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  1. #11
    Legend

    EXP: 59,606, Level: 10
    Level completed: 51%, EXP required for next Level: 5,394
    Level completed: 51%,
    EXP required for next Level: 5,394


    Stare's Avatar

    GP
    150

    Name
    Avis Tsakaka
    Age
    16
    Race
    Kenku / Tengu
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone
    Stare found herself nodding, her great beak gently bobbing up and down almost as soon as the red-haired stranger girl began to speak.

    "Yes," she agreed whole-heartedly. "I do need to find him."

    Brer was a sweetheart when it came down to the core of him, yet he was still a warrior. A man who loved his epic romance stories and would talk for a long time on how he longed to gain such for himself. Usually, however, he was quiet, grunting only a few words when in conversation, however when one got him in conversation about something he was passionate about then suddenly he would become a gossiping fishwife - eyes wide and full of excitement. It was odd to see the huge man with a war-hammer, a club or a halberd making such animated gestures, but then Stare was not exactly normal herself. Together they made a suitably odd pair.

    There was a shimmer in her eyes as she thought about him and she relaxed as she considered the happiness of having such a friend. Gently she leaned back in her seat and surveyed the brown liquid with the cream foam in her glass, thinking of a grimy beach but one from her home. Her chest rose and fell as she considered what her life was, how she had come from such a place to here now, searching for the man who had been her guard when she was nothing more than a sex slave. Slowly she blinked.

    "If you want to help, I will give a reward, whatever you say. More eyes are better than none."

    She tilted her head as she surveyed the girl. "I am Stare. Well I am called that, anyway. So I am that. What is-"

    Just then, the door crashed open. Or rather it was slammed open as three huge dwarves and a tiny human strode in, armed to the bone with knuckle dusters. As they walked their shirts of light mail rang out, clanging with large ornaments that hung around their necks - skulls and coins and beads. It was a shock, and indeed the entire bar fell to quiet as they walked in, leaving the door to groan in pain behind them. They headed straight for the bar, where the man who had first served Stare and the red-head. The barman shot Stare a sudden look, knowing.

    And he nodded quickly to the men before pulling on a massively fake smile.

    "Gentlemen, how can I help?"

    Stare blinked a moment. Her eyes glanced over to the dwarves and men as she took in what they were and what they looked liked. Their skulls decorations. Their matching clothing. They were ...

    Crumbs. A gang. The gang.
    Crows: Old nursery rhyme "One for sorrow, Two for mirth, Three for a funeral, Four for birth, Five for heaven, Six for hell, Seven for the devil, his own self."

  2. #12
    Nuclear Rage

    EXP: 64,948, Level: 10
    Level completed: 99%, EXP required for next Level: 52
    Level completed: 99%,
    EXP required for next Level: 52


    Flamebird's Avatar

    GP
    1,898

    Name
    Felicity Rhyolite
    Age
    19
    Race
    Neanderthal/ Human Hybrid
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone

    View Profile
    Oh look, a gang.

    The gruff, bulky dwarves cleared the path for one, small man. Wait, no, he was too small to be human… Yes, his unusually large, hairy bare feet and curled hair confirmed quite the odd creature. This small male, who wore glasses and a jacket with a lavish skull symbol, was a halfling.

    Felicity never met a halfling before. She had heard they were free spirited, merry folk who preferred to take a nap and lazily fish more than anything else. Yet, here one was, a gang leader. Felicity guessed she shouldn’t judge a race by stereotypes.

    The blond halfling pulled a pipe from his mouth, releasing smoke fumes from his chapped lips, “Quit the chatter, Matthew. You know what we want.”

    The bartender, Matthew, scowled. He turned and walked towards the back. Felicity felt her heart pounding as she hastily observed the scene. It was odd, but everyone seemed surprisingly calm. Not many patrons showed any concern, at least visible. They just watched with impatience as the dwarvern henchmen scowled. Soon enough, Matthew came back with three heaping sacks of glittering coin. “Three fourths of my income, all yours.”

    Words from earlier echoed in Felicity’s mind. ”Because I’m too sensitive for drama, this will be on the house.”

    Everything clicked.

    As the dwarves started to collect their easily looted gains, it made sense. The more sensitive bartender gave them anything they wanted in exchange for a lack of trouble.

    The halfling let out another puff of smoke, “Thank you. Just so you know, our protection has been halved.”

    Alarm shot through the innkeeper's eyes, “What?”

    The halfling clenched the pipe in his mouth, scowling, “One of your patrons gave our men a little too much trouble the other night. So half of your protection is keeping him as our guest.” Through tinted glasses, he glared with a low growl, “Do you have a problem with that?”

    He silently shook his head, like a disciplined toddler.

    The halfling sneered, a crooked smile forming, “Good. Always a pleasure doing business with you,” He turned and started to walk out, smirking, “Coward.”

    As Matthew lowered his head, shamed, Felicity clenched her fists. Her teeth gritted as the unfolding situation burned her. Her chest flared, hot flames expanding as her reckless temper got the best of her. The tavern keep may have been a coward, but she was not.

    She stood up, stomping her foot. She put a hand on her sword's hilt as she let out a powerful, raw, roar. “Hey!”

    Almost at the front door, the smoking halfling stopped and turned his head. The sunlight bounced off his glasses, his long neck collar and pipe covered his bottom face. This made his expression completely unreadable. Felicity’s tightened free fist was raised, eye dilated, as she boomed, “You think you can get away with that on my watch?”

    The dwarves all seemed… confused. As they glanced at each other with confused expressions, the halfling raised a lazy hand and pulled the pipe from his mouth. A puff of smoke flew around his face as he muttered something under his breath. Then, he spoke in a voice that hinted that he was… bored?

    “Who are you again?”

    Felicity sharply drew her sword. The delyn blade shimmered as dust floated around it. The child hissed as her eyes alone spat enough venom to kill. She did not even take the time to reply. Instead, she darted forward. She lunged her sword at the nearest dwarf. She attacked.

    One would think that the fight was unfair for her, yet she quickly proved her skill. Her bladesmanship was violent, quick to the point, and effective. Brutally, she used the half swording techniques the apply blunt damage to the dwarves. Kicks and punches were thrown in as she used her superior reach to evade and conquer. It was within mere seconds that she stood around a pile of bruised, broken, but alive dwarves. As they moaned, the unmoved halfling sighed, “Seriously?”

    Felicity hastily walked up to the mobster, untainted blade tip pointed at his face.

    The ring leader scoffed, a smirk formed over his mouth. “Honestly, those guys are horrible. I just brought them because they look tough and I didn’t expect trouble.” He shot a warning glance at Matthew, who hid his face from the halfling. Seemingly exhausted, the gangster scowled, “It is pathetic though, they got beat up by a little girl with improper form, poor fine motor movement, and obvious temper issues.”

    Felicity barked, “D-don’t insult me, slime!”

    The halfling merely shrugged, smirking as he raised a golden ring with a cyan gem in the air, “And come on, lass, we both know you would not actually use that blade on me. You do not have what it takes to kill, do you not?”

    Her eyes widened, a silent gasp escaped her.

    The halfling smirked, “That is what I thought.”

    The ring began to glow. Even the darkest corners of the shaded bar were illuminated by the glowing light. Felicity had to step back, cover her eyes, as the mobster shouted proudly.

    “Besides, even if you tried, nobody could beat Hunter Thornbush in a fight. Nobody!”

    The light reached blinding proportions before… darkness again.

    Felicity squinted, barely able to take in the visuals of the shocked mine as she attempted to track the gang leader again. The smell of beer and whiskey, vomit and urine, hit her hard. All unpleasant scents to her. The numerous murmurs and hasty escapes of patrons flooded her ears as she felt the wind of a sea of people racing past her. Yet, even as the door opened and most left the building, Felicity could already figure out one thing.

    This Hunter Thornbush had escaped.
    Last edited by Flamebird; 06-23-2018 at 06:05 AM.
    "I can't be proud of anything. I am ashamed of everything."

    "I gave my heart, my allegiance, all my energy for this and got nothing but ashes in return. What on earth did I do to deserve being chewed and spit out like this? Time and time again, it's all the same."


    Felicity Playlist.

  3. #13
    Legend

    EXP: 59,606, Level: 10
    Level completed: 51%, EXP required for next Level: 5,394
    Level completed: 51%,
    EXP required for next Level: 5,394


    Stare's Avatar

    GP
    150

    Name
    Avis Tsakaka
    Age
    16
    Race
    Kenku / Tengu
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone
    Stare watched with some amusement as her new apparent friend took down all six or seven of the dwarves in successive, seemingly easy blows. Leaning back she observed with the impressive attitude of a lordling, feeling very much like a Vitruvion as she relaxed there, ale in hand as others did her work.

    Naturally her earhole shad caught the words.

    "One of your patrons gave our men a little too much trouble the other night. So half of your protection is keeping him as our guest."

    By their description, dress and style they had already singled themselves out as Brer's kidnappers. Now the sentence confirmed that these were the men Stare was looking for. As Felicity strode towards the last one - that disgusting little imp of a halfling who seemed their leader - the kenku swung off the bench, landing her clawed feet on the ground. She gripped the floorboards with small cuts into the wood, then stood up, raising her beak. Slowly, as she started to walk over she pulled her titanium, clawed gauntlet that was attached to her corded belt and began to tug it on.

    It was then the halfling suddenly chortled - then vanished in a flash of light. Stare blinked past it, her eyes only momentarily suffering as an effect as all others around her groaned. He hailed himself as 'Hunter Thornbush' before he left, and she hissed darkly as the redhead claimed back her sight and sanity. The kenku made the rest of her way over, her wings bristling with apprehension and anger, shoulders hunched as if she stalked prey. Her eyes swept wide, and suddenly gone was her feelings of grandeur and pleasure.

    "You alright?" she grunted as she caught the barbarian-like warrior. Catching her shoulder with her non-gauntleted hand she helped the girl to steady before swinging her eyes over to the barman.

    "You. So that man ... Hunter Thornberry or whatever. He runs your tavern?"

    "We - we do not have any trouble from anyone else."

    Stare still held onto the redhead but raised herself higher. "Where does he live?"

    The barman's eyes widened and he shook a little. "I - I cannot ..."

    "If you tell me, then we will rid you of the entire gang," Stare said, "what is more, if my search gains the safety of my friend, I will guarantee you protection for a much smaller price, from a group of highly trained mercenaries." She paused, "plus cheap services from the Grand Celestial Brewery."

    The barman blinked, "the - the large brewery out of town. How can you-?"

    "I work for the man who owns it," she explained quickly. "Now, can you tell us where to go?"
    Crows: Old nursery rhyme "One for sorrow, Two for mirth, Three for a funeral, Four for birth, Five for heaven, Six for hell, Seven for the devil, his own self."

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