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  1. #1
    The Thayne Tantalus

    EXP: 106,923, Level: 14
    Level completed: 20%, EXP required for next Level: 12,077
    Level completed: 20%,
    EXP required for next Level: 12,077


    Duffy's Avatar

    GP
    652

    Name
    Lysander Anall
    Age
    Unknown
    Race
    Thayne
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone

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    To Heaven's Cataract (November Event Thread)

    “This isn’t happening…”

    Duffy clenched his fists. The candles in the room flickered, as though a chill breeze rolled through the study or a ghost haunted him. The east and west walls were crammed with books, piled haphazard wherever they could fit. The soft light of the dozen half spent wicks sent demons scrabbling up the dusty shelves and pirouetting over the cracked plaster moulding on the ceiling.

    “It really is.” Lilith folded her arms across her chest and leant against the rotting frame of the study door. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her spinning head as reality clashed full force into the troupe’s late evening celebrations.

    “Say it again, then. Just to be sure.” The bard looked to his sister expectant, wavering on booted feet and trying not to down the rest of the whiskey in the cut crystal glass in his trembling hands.

    “Somebody that looks suspiciously like you just killed Queen Valeena. In her own bed.”

    Duffy knew Lilith would never lie to him. She did not have the gall to try a practical joke, either. Her face told the bard that she was being truthful, and that only made him worry more.

    “Well, we both know it wasn’t me. So, who or what the fuck did it?” He sputtered. “Wait. The Queen is dead?” His world exploded in a combination of blurred vision and a tingling sensation in his stomach.

    “Arden has his suspicions. But we have a bigger problem.”

    “Bigger than matricide?”

    “There’s a battalion of city guards and Knights Brae searching the city for you.”

    “Ah.” He drained his glass.

    “We have to do something about this, tonight.”

    “Oh, don’t worry, I wasn’t planning on staying in with a good book.”

    Lilith pushed away from the door and pointed to one of the shelves. Duffy followed the gesture and raised an eyebrow, missing the point through fatigue and inebriation. The claustrophobic environment leant ill forebodings to the growing sense of disaster.

    “What am I looking at?”

    “I recommend Treatise on Law in the Free Isles.”

    “Oh. You’re so bloody funny. Why don’t you put that sharp wit to good use and lend me a sharp blade instead?” Duffy wandered to the desk at the heart of his study and gingerly picked up the black hilted katana resting on an ornate stand.

    “Ruby and I have damage control to tend to. There’s a quarry of do-good-ers already roaming the palace grounds at the behest of the king. The ransom for the murderer…for you, is quite enticing.” She pulled a tanto from her belt to taunt him, and let the purple haze of the spirit trapped within snip away at the last tattered threads of his heart strings.

    “There’s no I in team, huh?” He sheathed his blade on his hip and ushered the assassin out into the landing. “Fine. If you hear anything you’ll know where to find me.”

    Lilith clucked and walked to the top of the grand staircase leading down to the black and white marble tiles of the Winchester House ballroom. She rested a hand on the polished wooden orb atop the banister.

    “Oh, and where’s that brother dearest?” Her eye glinted with mischief.

    “Putting my bastard head on the block.” He smirked weakly and disappeared in a whorl of blue ribbons and a faint rush of drums.

    Lilith pranced down the stairs, hobnails thundering and heart racing. She sheathed her blade and raced out into the night air of Scara Brae, the race to reveal the truth of the matter afoot.

  2. #2
    Member

    EXP: 2,105, Level: 2
    Level completed: 4%, EXP required for next Level: 2,895
    Level completed: 4%,
    EXP required for next Level: 2,895


    Erik's Avatar

    GP
    1,037

    Name
    Erik Dranglein
    Location
    Corone
    There was a thick, heavy tension in the air of the bar. Everyone inside the room was on edge - something was coming, but no one had any idea what it could be. The only person who seemed to be completely ignoring the taut atmosphere was a man sitting against one of the walls. Leaning against the wall behind him was a massive bow, currently unstrung, with a large quiver case beside it. From the back of his seat hung a sword and shield, loose on their straps. No one could see his face though - the hood of his pale blue robes was drawn up over his head, so all anyone could tell of the man was that he was quite tall. As he slipped the frothy ale in his tankard, he seemed oblivious to the tension in the air.

    That tension was snapped when the door was thrown open violently - and armored knights car into the room, blades unsheathed and gleaming viciously in the light of the fie. All of the patrons shied away from this entrance, fear etched onto their features. The knights spread out, a few moving up the stairs and others into the back. They were searching for someone, or something.

    Into the bathroom came a more ornately dressed knight, filigree upon his helmet shining gold in the firelight. Dark eyes scanned the crowd. His eye fell upon the hooded man, and two of the knights moved to stand beside the figure that even now was quietly drinking his ale.

    "By decree of the King- Duffy Bracken is wanted for High Treason! He shall be captured and summarily executed - and those who help him shall endure similar judgment. Knights Brae, check our friend there." The two knights moved in unison, one grabbing the hooded man and the other ripping the hood off of the man's head. Brown hair spilled out as ale sloshed out of the tankard in his hand, and icy blue eyes shot to up to glare at the knight who had grabbed his shoulder.

    "Hmm. Brown hair, blue eyes - but you're not quite the right fit for our man. He's a bard, and you, you are clearly not. Hmph, a waste of our time." Despite apparently being cleared of suspicion, the knight kept his hand on the seated man's shoulder. "Let him go once we've searched the rest of the place. We will find the Queen-Killer."

    So the man sat, a heavy hand on his shoulder, as the sounds of ruckus filled the bar - the rest of the knights tearing up the other rooms of the bar. Every time he tried to take a drink of his ale, the knight holding his shoulder would jostle him, smiling cruelly as he kept making the ale spill.

    Finally, finally, the others returned to the main room of the bar coming back empty handed. This infuriated the officer, who let out a loud snarl before spinning on his heel and storming out of the bar. The other knights followed, filing after, and the tension in the room began to ease. That is, until a hand gripped the wrist of one knight, preventing him from leaving. He spun around to find himself staring into cold chips of ice.

    "You owe me an ale, neighbor." Erik's voice was a low rumble, laced with irritation. The knight scoffed and tried to slap the arm holding him off, only to freeze when he felt his gauntlet impact metal - and the grip on his other wrist didn't budge like. "Che. Is this how knights in this land act, neighbor? If so, I am deeply ashamed for all of you."

    "You - you insult me, cur! I'll have your hide for that!" Blue eyes regarded the knight for a moment before the robed man slowly nodded once.

    "At least you're swift enough to realize when insult is dealt to you. Very well then, we shall duel.
    But I warn you, far better than you have tried to take my hide."
    Erik released his grip and gathered up his weapons, slinging sword and sheathed across his back, mounting his quiver to the small of his back and strapping his shield to his left arm. The unstrung bow was picked up, and with slow, steady steps Erik strode outside.

    Outside, a small crowd had already formed, a mix of citizens, guards, and knights. The affronted knight was waving his arms, though he paused when he saw Erik calmly walking outside. The captain, the one the knight had been talking to looked quite bored as he approached Erik.

    "My subordinate tells me you accused him as a thief. Is this true?" One eyebrow raised as the robed man snorted.

    "Not at all. I said he owed me an ale,
    for the one he kept spilling. He refused, and I said I would be ashamed if all knights in this land acted as he did."
    The captain frowned and looked back to the knight, who now would not meet his gaze.

    "Very well. As the challenged party, do you have any requests for the duel?" it clearly looked like he didn't want to have this happen. Erik simply studied the captain and the other knights, before shrugging.

    "I would appreciate if anyone could lend me a mace for this fight." To his surprise, three different knights stepped out of the crowd, pulling maces clear of holsters and holding them up. It seemed like this lying knight wasn't particularly popular. Erik took a simple flanged mace from one of them, bowing his head. "My thanks, neighbor." with that, he slowly turned to face the ass knight, testing the balance of his borrowed weapon out.

    After I deal with this, I will need to see about finding out what is going on with this 'Queen-Killer'. I've already been mistaken for the man once. Erik narrowed his eyes and his gloved grip on the haft of the mace tightened with a creak of leather. The knight captain sighed and shook his head.

    "On my count then, the duel shall begin. One, two, three - Mark." The lying knight charged forward.

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