Open Chronicles Notice Board: Forest Monster
- Thread starter Velaeri
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A roleplay open for anyone to join
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Last night, after sundown.
Ziggy loved foraging at night. The chill wind and almost suffocating quietness of woods plunged into darkness were one of the few things that the so-called Witch could appreciate by itself, all alone. On their mind, they were like a fairy out of legends, floating through roots and low branches, dancing around bushes and jumping from rock to rock, whimsical movements from someone who was sure there were no particularly dangerous predators lurking around.Despite this nightly dance, Ziggy's mind was alert, eyes darting from one side to the other, a small magical enchantment allowing them to see in the low light conditions. They were here for one plant in particular: A particularly rare plant called Philosopher's Bane, supposedly created by a unhinged genius alchemist from Elbion, the few texts that exist on it claim to be from apprentices of said Alchemist and describe a plant that was originally named Philosopher's Grass, whose properties combined the positive properties of a myriad different herbs used in the confection of reinvigorating potions, healing potions AND disease-curing potions. Such marvelous herb would be the dream of any village healer or alchemist, but there was a simple reason it's name had been changed and knowledge about it had faded into obscurity: No one knows how to actually use it, or is sure if it does anything that the texts claim it is able to do. Such challenge motivated Ziggy to look for it.
But deep inside, Ziggy knew their motivation was another altogether: There were certain mushrooms that never got harvested by locals, for reasons that the changeling could not figure out, and thus grew undisturbed. Said mushrooms were delicious, plump, filling and fun in ways that facilitated long journeys on the road. Also good to make tea with. The witch stopped near a particularly large tree, kneeling to harvest a few of these mushrooms, and with a stroke of massive luck, Ziggy escaped death.
Claws as long as swords ripped through the trunk at the height were Ziggy's head was moments ago, forcing the Witch to jump back and land on a roll, skin prickled and slashed by a thorny bush they barreled through. There was barely any time for Ziggy to take in the appearance of a massive, taller-and-larger-than-a-bear creature of moss and barely covered bones of some sort, it's eyes glowing with malevolence and intent.
"Look, I'm leaving your territ-" The claw came down, forcing Ziggy to dodge once again. This time the Witch landed already pulling a rather large scroll from it's cover, quickly unfurling it, letters facing the incoming creature.
"You know what-" The letters glowed, conditions triggering the stored spell. "NO."
Present day, near midday.
Ziggy, now Angela, let out a long sigh, lamenting all the money wasted last night on that single scroll spell. It was a good reminder for her that reading bulletin boards and checking for rumors in Inns was a rather important part of keeping safe before going into places during the night. Nothing that could be done, though, except hope that she could make some of the money back by trading with whatever adventurers came around looking for this bounty.
And thus, she set up shop near the center square of that village, opening up part of her carriage and setting down thick tapestry on the ground . Herbs were strewn all around, together with some trinkets and small toys to attract kids and force parents to follow them and end up browsing the goods. The more important things, such as scrolls and potions, were still inside the carriage, far from curious eyes and handsy hands.
She wasn't worried about adventurers ignoring her and her wares, for she had "stuck" a note on the bottom of the bounty in the notice board, which read as follows:
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The evening prior, nearing sunset
Being out of Elbion proper and on his way elsewhere relieved him only slightly, as it seems that for every Elbionite that treats him well, three more want to cut his meager purse and throat. Nasty business. He shakes off the feeling and continues walking the packed dirt path towards the village of Rowan, thoughts bouncing.
What, truly, did Rector Eiruin Dadithas and The Highest expect of him, want of him? He had been walking the paths of Arethil for six months now, unbound by the limits of Vinbagnys, and found far more in the way of strife, than the consideration and kinship he had expected. Frustrating, to say the least. He plucks a leaf from a low-hanging branch and takes a whiff of the stem. Too old.
He tosses the leaf down and continues on, sighing. Kicking lightly to stir up the dust. Perhaps Elbion had soured Arethil for him. Rowan had to hold something better.
Then a loud crunch and a low hiss sounds to his right. He stops dead in his tracks, listening intently.
What was that?
Another crunch, and another.
He glances to the right, keeping still, and sees the brush shudder violently.
He books it, running along the path in the rapidly waning sunlight with his teeth gritted.
Don't trip, don't trip, don't trip-
He hears a set of thuds behind him and feels a breeze stir his cloak, and the brush rattles on the other side of the path before falling still. He doesn't bother looking.
The next day
Sleeping inside a building with closed doors and windows after last night's spook was near heaven, in spite of the pallet on the floor. Still, even without the noises in the woods, he wouldn't have balked. He was glad the owner even had five feet of floor for his price.
"Thank you, sir. Zydaos and Venos bless you and your tavern." he had told the man that morning, leaving a leaflet detailing The Highest in the man's hand along with the coin, and made his way onto the streets.
Now, at noon, he stood in front of the notice board, tacking up his own notice and scouring for tasks he can complete.
"Mm, missing dog, cow for sale..."
The notice from Baron Radost catches his eye, and a chill slides down his spine.
Is that what I heard last night?
He must look into this. And where better to check first than with the alchemist mentioned in the scrawl at the bottom of the notice. On his way across the market, he makes purchase of some dried meat and fruit, and approaches the cart, keeping just off of the tapestry. He clasps his fingers together in front of himself and bows.
"Good day, madam. Have I heard correctly that you have witnessed the monster?"
Being out of Elbion proper and on his way elsewhere relieved him only slightly, as it seems that for every Elbionite that treats him well, three more want to cut his meager purse and throat. Nasty business. He shakes off the feeling and continues walking the packed dirt path towards the village of Rowan, thoughts bouncing.
What, truly, did Rector Eiruin Dadithas and The Highest expect of him, want of him? He had been walking the paths of Arethil for six months now, unbound by the limits of Vinbagnys, and found far more in the way of strife, than the consideration and kinship he had expected. Frustrating, to say the least. He plucks a leaf from a low-hanging branch and takes a whiff of the stem. Too old.
He tosses the leaf down and continues on, sighing. Kicking lightly to stir up the dust. Perhaps Elbion had soured Arethil for him. Rowan had to hold something better.
Then a loud crunch and a low hiss sounds to his right. He stops dead in his tracks, listening intently.
What was that?
Another crunch, and another.
He glances to the right, keeping still, and sees the brush shudder violently.
He books it, running along the path in the rapidly waning sunlight with his teeth gritted.
Don't trip, don't trip, don't trip-
He hears a set of thuds behind him and feels a breeze stir his cloak, and the brush rattles on the other side of the path before falling still. He doesn't bother looking.
The next day
Sleeping inside a building with closed doors and windows after last night's spook was near heaven, in spite of the pallet on the floor. Still, even without the noises in the woods, he wouldn't have balked. He was glad the owner even had five feet of floor for his price.
"Thank you, sir. Zydaos and Venos bless you and your tavern." he had told the man that morning, leaving a leaflet detailing The Highest in the man's hand along with the coin, and made his way onto the streets.
Now, at noon, he stood in front of the notice board, tacking up his own notice and scouring for tasks he can complete.
"Mm, missing dog, cow for sale..."
The notice from Baron Radost catches his eye, and a chill slides down his spine.
Is that what I heard last night?
He must look into this. And where better to check first than with the alchemist mentioned in the scrawl at the bottom of the notice. On his way across the market, he makes purchase of some dried meat and fruit, and approaches the cart, keeping just off of the tapestry. He clasps his fingers together in front of himself and bows.
"Good day, madam. Have I heard correctly that you have witnessed the monster?"
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- Messages
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The day had gone by as usual; Curious kids forcing their parents to part with few hard earned coins or to barter with resources that Angela found convenient, such as food and salted, dried meat. The village's healer came in to stock up on "Elbion-quality" healing salves, a couple potions for emergencies and medicinal herbs that could not be easily found in the region. Some merchants had come to either place or retrieve their orders, making up the bulk of that day's profits. The last group in particular loved her Mage Candles, simple candles composed of wax and basic underpowered runes and wrapped on cheap scroll paper or the large leaves of a certain plant. They burned with a bright white flame, and lasted much longer than normal candles, going on for days and days.
As she waited, Angela had set up a small wooden chair and a delicate, tall and slender living wood table, barely large enough to fit a tome she was reading and a small tea set in porcelain white. Everything in the scene was deliberate, from the table made of rare wood that few would recognize to her long flowing black dress, full of sewn pockets that made it look like a small noble's garments and utilitarian at the same time. It gave off the impression of someone stumbling upon the comfortable abode of a forest witch, with said beautiful and mysterious resident having her afternoon tea in the porch.
Angela was taking mental tally of her stock, going through what she needed and wondering whether it was worth to stay for another night in that village, when another potential client arrived, a man in colorful but well-worn clothes and a sword at his hip.
"Good day, my fellow traveler." Cynical green eyes seemed to study the man from his boots to the top of his hat, a ease smug on her lips as she methodically closed her tome and set it aside, looking away to move the tea set towards the center of the small table and serving herself some of the aromatic beverage.
"Indeed, I have stumbled upon this creature when out, taking care of business of mine. I suspect I may have trespassed it's territory, if it has such thing." Still deliberately, Angela sat back blonde locks flowing around her as if blown by ghostly wind. A tea cup in her hands.
"May I offer you some tea? You can come in and sit down, it's annoying to talk business while standing under the sun, no?" With a hand, she pointed towards a small wooden seat that one could swear was not present there before, but could be passed as just the wood blending in with the rest of the scene.
"And once you have sat down, you may tell me what are your plans towards this creature, so I may better help you and explain what of my services will be of use." She took a sip from her tea before once again looking at the other man. "And how much they will cost."
As she waited, Angela had set up a small wooden chair and a delicate, tall and slender living wood table, barely large enough to fit a tome she was reading and a small tea set in porcelain white. Everything in the scene was deliberate, from the table made of rare wood that few would recognize to her long flowing black dress, full of sewn pockets that made it look like a small noble's garments and utilitarian at the same time. It gave off the impression of someone stumbling upon the comfortable abode of a forest witch, with said beautiful and mysterious resident having her afternoon tea in the porch.
Angela was taking mental tally of her stock, going through what she needed and wondering whether it was worth to stay for another night in that village, when another potential client arrived, a man in colorful but well-worn clothes and a sword at his hip.
"Good day, my fellow traveler." Cynical green eyes seemed to study the man from his boots to the top of his hat, a ease smug on her lips as she methodically closed her tome and set it aside, looking away to move the tea set towards the center of the small table and serving herself some of the aromatic beverage.
"Indeed, I have stumbled upon this creature when out, taking care of business of mine. I suspect I may have trespassed it's territory, if it has such thing." Still deliberately, Angela sat back blonde locks flowing around her as if blown by ghostly wind. A tea cup in her hands.
"May I offer you some tea? You can come in and sit down, it's annoying to talk business while standing under the sun, no?" With a hand, she pointed towards a small wooden seat that one could swear was not present there before, but could be passed as just the wood blending in with the rest of the scene.
"And once you have sat down, you may tell me what are your plans towards this creature, so I may better help you and explain what of my services will be of use." She took a sip from her tea before once again looking at the other man. "And how much they will cost."
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The feeling emanating from the carriage and it's inhabitant sends an undiscernable sensation through him, and he cocks his head slightly at the invitation. As he steps lightly onto the tapestries and approaches the little stool, a slight crease forms between his eyebrows, confusion melding with concern at her mention of having met the beast.
"A frightening experience, if what I hear is true. I would enjoy some tea, and to sit, thank you."
He leaves out his own suspected encounter, and jostles his necklace with his fingers, eyes cast down to the tea set, lips moving silently, before he looks up to properly study the alchemist, dressed in her finery and appearing unfettered from the gust of wind that disturbs his own draped and fringed clothes. He wonders more than once in the span of only a few moments how much of the scene before him is crafted for precise advertisement, before she speaks again;
"And once you have sat down, you may tell me what are your plans towards this creature, so I may better help you and explain what of my services will be of use."
He nods as he sits, hands clasped politely in his lap, thumbs rubbing together slowly and methodically as he watches her sip her tea in a way that piques his concern again. His heart sinks at her following statement;
"And how much they will cost."
He clenches his jaw to prevent his expression from betraying his dismay, and he takes a moment to prepare his next words, deepening his voice slightly.
"I can promise no more pay than an equal share of the reward money for stopping the beast and preventing further loss of life. I have little in the way of wealth."
He glances around at the various wares in his immediate surroundings, and draws his eyebrows together again.
"However, I may be of a small service, at least until I go on my way again. I am more than capable of foraging and prepping plants."
Ziggy Steele
"A frightening experience, if what I hear is true. I would enjoy some tea, and to sit, thank you."
He leaves out his own suspected encounter, and jostles his necklace with his fingers, eyes cast down to the tea set, lips moving silently, before he looks up to properly study the alchemist, dressed in her finery and appearing unfettered from the gust of wind that disturbs his own draped and fringed clothes. He wonders more than once in the span of only a few moments how much of the scene before him is crafted for precise advertisement, before she speaks again;
"And once you have sat down, you may tell me what are your plans towards this creature, so I may better help you and explain what of my services will be of use."
He nods as he sits, hands clasped politely in his lap, thumbs rubbing together slowly and methodically as he watches her sip her tea in a way that piques his concern again. His heart sinks at her following statement;
"And how much they will cost."
He clenches his jaw to prevent his expression from betraying his dismay, and he takes a moment to prepare his next words, deepening his voice slightly.
"I can promise no more pay than an equal share of the reward money for stopping the beast and preventing further loss of life. I have little in the way of wealth."
He glances around at the various wares in his immediate surroundings, and draws his eyebrows together again.
"However, I may be of a small service, at least until I go on my way again. I am more than capable of foraging and prepping plants."
Ziggy Steele
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As he sat down, Angela placed his tea cup and served the aromatic tea at just the right amount to welcome a guest, manners straight from a king's court and unbecoming of a 'mere' peddler. There was nothing unsafe about the tea at all; it was a exquisitely crafted beverage that combined the aromas and citric freshness of certain fruits . . . With the almost unbearable harsh bitterness of owlleaf, a favorite of guards, sailors and warriors everywhere who needed an extra pick-me-up through long night shifts. The stimulant was usually safe in such doses as the one present in that tea, posing no danger whatsoever outside of the sheer bitterness it has.
She looked on, slightly smug, as he explained himself and stated his case.
At this point, she wasn't even attempting to hide her smugness, looking on at the man with a expression that came close to mocking him, but just close. Internally, though, she let out a long sigh, 'Adventurers. Thinking everyone is as ready to sit on death's lap.' She thought on, face not betraying any of her thoughts.
Without any commentary, she took another sip of her tea, eyes looking from the man to the tea cup she had served to him, then back to him. She would wait until he would start sipping, before carrying on with her answers.
"I would have to teach you the truly proper ways of cultivating ingredients for me, and then I would have to reveal which of the locations have the rare ingredients I tend to need." Another sip, eyes fluttering close for a moment as she enjoyed her own brew, definitely not secretly addicted to owlleaf after decades of sleepless nights.
"I don't want to." She put her cup down.
"Before we carry on, though, whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with? As you have guessed, I am Angela, a mere alchemist and peddler hailing from Elbion." Methodically, she served herself more tea.
"And as you can see, I am no fighter. If you thought I would follow you into the forest and hunt down that monster, please disabuse yourself of such notion." It didn't even sound like a request, order or demand. The way she spoke it came out as someone simply stating a fact that everyone knows.
"At best, I could offer you potions and certain types of... Scrolls, to better increase your odds of coming back alive. But then, what guarantees would I have that I would get the payment for my investment?" She looked to the side, observing the people going on with their lives.
Teacup in her hands, she took a sip, eyes moving to stare at the man's. "Anything more would require you to pay up a quantity much larger than you seem to have. So tell me, what will you do?"
OOC: Come be smugged at, Raul Renaut
She looked on, slightly smug, as he explained himself and stated his case.
At this point, she wasn't even attempting to hide her smugness, looking on at the man with a expression that came close to mocking him, but just close. Internally, though, she let out a long sigh, 'Adventurers. Thinking everyone is as ready to sit on death's lap.' She thought on, face not betraying any of her thoughts.
Without any commentary, she took another sip of her tea, eyes looking from the man to the tea cup she had served to him, then back to him. She would wait until he would start sipping, before carrying on with her answers.
"I would have to teach you the truly proper ways of cultivating ingredients for me, and then I would have to reveal which of the locations have the rare ingredients I tend to need." Another sip, eyes fluttering close for a moment as she enjoyed her own brew, definitely not secretly addicted to owlleaf after decades of sleepless nights.
"I don't want to." She put her cup down.
"Before we carry on, though, whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with? As you have guessed, I am Angela, a mere alchemist and peddler hailing from Elbion." Methodically, she served herself more tea.
"And as you can see, I am no fighter. If you thought I would follow you into the forest and hunt down that monster, please disabuse yourself of such notion." It didn't even sound like a request, order or demand. The way she spoke it came out as someone simply stating a fact that everyone knows.
"At best, I could offer you potions and certain types of... Scrolls, to better increase your odds of coming back alive. But then, what guarantees would I have that I would get the payment for my investment?" She looked to the side, observing the people going on with their lives.
Teacup in her hands, she took a sip, eyes moving to stare at the man's. "Anything more would require you to pay up a quantity much larger than you seem to have. So tell me, what will you do?"
OOC: Come be smugged at, Raul Renaut
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He bows his head at the proffered tea, lightly smelling of it as he carefully picks the cup up with the tips of his fingers. The delicate porcelain warms his fingers, and he takes a moment to appreciate the lovely set. The look she gives him makes him squint in return.
I'm not an idiot.
"Thank you, madam."
He takes a sip, almost instantly balking at the bitter sting of it, eyes wide. He clenches his jaw and swallows a few times to clear his mouth.
"What a... Taste."
He clears his throat again and falls silent, swirling the contents of the cup under his nose in lieu of another sip as he listens to her speak.
"I would have to teach you the truly proper ways of cultivating ingredients for me, and then I would have to reveal which of the locations have the rare ingredients I tend to need."
He frowns slightly as she sips her tea with close-eyed rapture, and he dances the fingers of his left hand across his necklace again.
Different strokes, I suppose.
"I don't want to." She says as she sets her cup down, and Raul inhales deeply in preparation for a quick response, but she beats him to the punch;
"Before we carry on, though, whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with? As you have guessed, I am Angela, a mere alchemist and peddler hailing from Elbion."
The careful, calculating way she pours more tea for herself sets off a small twinge in his brain, wondering yet again how much of this is a ploy to market goods. It would be quite Elbionite of her. He shakes himself from this thought and politely takes another sip of the bitter tea, disliking the furry sensation of tannin on his tongue.
"Zydaos bless you, Angela." He pauses and swirls the tea, letting the name of one of his deities rest there before introducing himself in a similar fashion; "I am Raul Renaut, a mere monk hailing from the Monastery that resides at the center of Vinbagnys."
He listens intently as Angela explains her own position, keeping himself on guard for any surprises. Thankfully, she says nothing outlandish or unreasonable. Not everyone was so willing to risk life and limb. He takes a deep breath, keeping his voice lowered.
"I shouldn't expect you to follow me into the woods, but I don't believe I can wield my saber and your scrolls or potions at the same time. If you came with me as a safety net... I am not one to let others come to permanent harm. The mending of wounds is a forte."
He finishes the cup of tea in spite of himself and carefully replaces the cup upright on it's saucer. He rubs his hands together slowly, trying to ignore the burn behind his eyes and the alarming sensation of his heart tilting at windmills somewhere between his lungs.
"In terms of investment, there is risk in everything. If you can't follow, describe the beast, and tell me where you found it. I can make do."
Ziggy Steele OOC: You've given him the jitters!
I'm not an idiot.
"Thank you, madam."
He takes a sip, almost instantly balking at the bitter sting of it, eyes wide. He clenches his jaw and swallows a few times to clear his mouth.
"What a... Taste."
He clears his throat again and falls silent, swirling the contents of the cup under his nose in lieu of another sip as he listens to her speak.
"I would have to teach you the truly proper ways of cultivating ingredients for me, and then I would have to reveal which of the locations have the rare ingredients I tend to need."
He frowns slightly as she sips her tea with close-eyed rapture, and he dances the fingers of his left hand across his necklace again.
Different strokes, I suppose.
"I don't want to." She says as she sets her cup down, and Raul inhales deeply in preparation for a quick response, but she beats him to the punch;
"Before we carry on, though, whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with? As you have guessed, I am Angela, a mere alchemist and peddler hailing from Elbion."
The careful, calculating way she pours more tea for herself sets off a small twinge in his brain, wondering yet again how much of this is a ploy to market goods. It would be quite Elbionite of her. He shakes himself from this thought and politely takes another sip of the bitter tea, disliking the furry sensation of tannin on his tongue.
"Zydaos bless you, Angela." He pauses and swirls the tea, letting the name of one of his deities rest there before introducing himself in a similar fashion; "I am Raul Renaut, a mere monk hailing from the Monastery that resides at the center of Vinbagnys."
He listens intently as Angela explains her own position, keeping himself on guard for any surprises. Thankfully, she says nothing outlandish or unreasonable. Not everyone was so willing to risk life and limb. He takes a deep breath, keeping his voice lowered.
"I shouldn't expect you to follow me into the woods, but I don't believe I can wield my saber and your scrolls or potions at the same time. If you came with me as a safety net... I am not one to let others come to permanent harm. The mending of wounds is a forte."
He finishes the cup of tea in spite of himself and carefully replaces the cup upright on it's saucer. He rubs his hands together slowly, trying to ignore the burn behind his eyes and the alarming sensation of his heart tilting at windmills somewhere between his lungs.
"In terms of investment, there is risk in everything. If you can't follow, describe the beast, and tell me where you found it. I can make do."
Ziggy Steele OOC: You've given him the jitters!
A green palm planted itself on the notice board, black lips and untidy teeth wrestled with a cigar that spread ash down to the pavement as the owner of the tobacco inhaled deeply. It set a cherry to a bright red, a red that made his bloody right eye ashamed to carry the colour. He spoke to himself in a mixture of common tongue and slang words of his orc heritage in between pulls of his cigar. His eyes looked at each sentence slowly, piecing it together as if it were some labyrinth with a mighty minotaur ready to crush his skull at the end of it. His left hand alternated between drawing the cigar from his mouth and tapping his fingers against the head of his axe which hung upon his back. A habit which often unnerved those around him, and with this knowledge, he had adopted it firmly into his repository of gestures to illicit violence before violence.
“Krivvy this then,” Damagutz said through grin and cigar toke, “oh chummy of danger and bigboss of threat. Any of courage it says, well that's just kravnich, mm. Mm. But what about money, what about the loot. Ah, krivvy true, handsome it says.”
His palm pawed at the notice board, as if he was drunk. In truth, he had consumed a great number of pints the last few days, and consumed a great deal of food that left his breath stinking of seared meat and ale. He shifted his weight upon the notice board as if it would somehow glean him more information for being so pressed upon. He continued to read and voice his thoughts aloud.
“Handsome says it! To any man the prize is handsome. Might not be for green skins to bear teeth at. But tabs must be foisted off, some which barrel drunk double quick and long belched out must provide coin to seal that deal, or face excommunication from the Badger's Claw. And I do not wish to hunt another pub door to swing each way at day and night, yes. Bringing heads upon a platter, proof of the deed done deadly like. Yes, this fetches. This fetches me to quarry a quarrel with viciousness and cutting and all the good bits of a bloody sauce like.”
He gave a final pull of his cigar and threw the stub to the ground and breathed out the smoke as he spoke. His throat burned from the intensity of his smoking, his voice raspy now, and he felt his regenerative powers trigger ever so slightly at his deliberate merry making with smoke.
“To cavinchin' and cavorchin' I go through wood then. Yeah, that's the cut of it. But, something extra to add to this ticket to beasties I see, before I be discarded from meaning all purposeful seeming. A note. From, ah, well. I aint the first to be last. Krivvy that true. But I bet by this lovely hand scratch that they not done the deed yet, this monster be still have it neck tied to trunk. But to take down the sign to kill the competition. There's the rub.”
He tapped against his axe. Counted to three. Produced another cigar. Lit it with a match and set himself to smiling again at the thought discarded for reasonable behaviour.
“I be thinking not. Think I'll just kill the competition meself if they aren't too favourable to sharin' the jewels that come raining down for Damagutz for slicing thought jelly from beastie bone cup. If beastie has any thought jelly to be cambal. Hah. Must do. Else why would this bounty be asking for such a bone cup presented on dish. Go on do I then, onto woods and fighting and cutting and slaying. To find a tracker, yes, find a tracker, to make this all the more,” Damagutz said, and inhaled deeply of smoke, held it, and broadly smiling now as he released did he breathe word with sophisticated affectation and accent, “yielding.”
He did trudge through the city to find his new company. His stride was long and wide, and frequently his shoulders did barge into someone. His cigar smouldered as he hustled his frame forward.
His eyes took a while to see the shop from the carriage. But once he had done, he considered the owner.
“Politely, politely Damagutz, politely shall I go, and leave the butchering up to me, all fair in measure like. This one appreciates herbs, and that I just cannot be hating in my mivcha.”
He took the half burned cigar from his mouth and stubbed it upon the ground for later smoking, putting it within his jacket pocket with a deliberate gesture as if he was preserving a finer thing than was in his possession. He made out as if he was just passing the group as he overheard some words from the two sat at the table outside of the carriage.
"In terms of investment, there is risk in everything. If you can't follow, describe the beast, and tell me where you found it. I can make do."
Damagutz nodded his head from one side to the other, as if weighting up the options labelled 'polite' and 'cunning' as he got out of eyesight.
'Polite' won out.
He turned upon the spot and came back to the two talking. His eyes looked at the wares, and the to the two, and then back to the wares, and then back to the two talking. He allowed them time to finish their words to one another before clearing his throat.
“Come to offer a less risky option than venturing on your ownsomes I have,” Damagutz said, his tone cheerful and eager as he eyed up the proceedings, “your sort like need protection from such as I and mine, Damagutz, yes? May I join you, and have your ear like? Monster heads to be cutting awf, yes?” Damagutz said, his voice still coarse, but with good effort to make himself better understood.
“Is that a brew I smell? Come now, invite Damagutz in to this here thing, and we can sip and sup and saunter on to danger proper before any more do cut the cake of prize money for the deed yet done righteous like in the day. Before anyone else comes-a-creepin in to this," Damagutz said, pleasing his own ear if no-one else's with his manner of speech laid on thick.
“Krivvy this then,” Damagutz said through grin and cigar toke, “oh chummy of danger and bigboss of threat. Any of courage it says, well that's just kravnich, mm. Mm. But what about money, what about the loot. Ah, krivvy true, handsome it says.”
His palm pawed at the notice board, as if he was drunk. In truth, he had consumed a great number of pints the last few days, and consumed a great deal of food that left his breath stinking of seared meat and ale. He shifted his weight upon the notice board as if it would somehow glean him more information for being so pressed upon. He continued to read and voice his thoughts aloud.
“Handsome says it! To any man the prize is handsome. Might not be for green skins to bear teeth at. But tabs must be foisted off, some which barrel drunk double quick and long belched out must provide coin to seal that deal, or face excommunication from the Badger's Claw. And I do not wish to hunt another pub door to swing each way at day and night, yes. Bringing heads upon a platter, proof of the deed done deadly like. Yes, this fetches. This fetches me to quarry a quarrel with viciousness and cutting and all the good bits of a bloody sauce like.”
He gave a final pull of his cigar and threw the stub to the ground and breathed out the smoke as he spoke. His throat burned from the intensity of his smoking, his voice raspy now, and he felt his regenerative powers trigger ever so slightly at his deliberate merry making with smoke.
“To cavinchin' and cavorchin' I go through wood then. Yeah, that's the cut of it. But, something extra to add to this ticket to beasties I see, before I be discarded from meaning all purposeful seeming. A note. From, ah, well. I aint the first to be last. Krivvy that true. But I bet by this lovely hand scratch that they not done the deed yet, this monster be still have it neck tied to trunk. But to take down the sign to kill the competition. There's the rub.”
He tapped against his axe. Counted to three. Produced another cigar. Lit it with a match and set himself to smiling again at the thought discarded for reasonable behaviour.
“I be thinking not. Think I'll just kill the competition meself if they aren't too favourable to sharin' the jewels that come raining down for Damagutz for slicing thought jelly from beastie bone cup. If beastie has any thought jelly to be cambal. Hah. Must do. Else why would this bounty be asking for such a bone cup presented on dish. Go on do I then, onto woods and fighting and cutting and slaying. To find a tracker, yes, find a tracker, to make this all the more,” Damagutz said, and inhaled deeply of smoke, held it, and broadly smiling now as he released did he breathe word with sophisticated affectation and accent, “yielding.”
He did trudge through the city to find his new company. His stride was long and wide, and frequently his shoulders did barge into someone. His cigar smouldered as he hustled his frame forward.
His eyes took a while to see the shop from the carriage. But once he had done, he considered the owner.
“Politely, politely Damagutz, politely shall I go, and leave the butchering up to me, all fair in measure like. This one appreciates herbs, and that I just cannot be hating in my mivcha.”
He took the half burned cigar from his mouth and stubbed it upon the ground for later smoking, putting it within his jacket pocket with a deliberate gesture as if he was preserving a finer thing than was in his possession. He made out as if he was just passing the group as he overheard some words from the two sat at the table outside of the carriage.
"In terms of investment, there is risk in everything. If you can't follow, describe the beast, and tell me where you found it. I can make do."
Damagutz nodded his head from one side to the other, as if weighting up the options labelled 'polite' and 'cunning' as he got out of eyesight.
'Polite' won out.
He turned upon the spot and came back to the two talking. His eyes looked at the wares, and the to the two, and then back to the wares, and then back to the two talking. He allowed them time to finish their words to one another before clearing his throat.
“Come to offer a less risky option than venturing on your ownsomes I have,” Damagutz said, his tone cheerful and eager as he eyed up the proceedings, “your sort like need protection from such as I and mine, Damagutz, yes? May I join you, and have your ear like? Monster heads to be cutting awf, yes?” Damagutz said, his voice still coarse, but with good effort to make himself better understood.
“Is that a brew I smell? Come now, invite Damagutz in to this here thing, and we can sip and sup and saunter on to danger proper before any more do cut the cake of prize money for the deed yet done righteous like in the day. Before anyone else comes-a-creepin in to this," Damagutz said, pleasing his own ear if no-one else's with his manner of speech laid on thick.
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"-And if you cannot agree to that, I will-"
Heavy footsteps approach, and just as quickly; “Come to offer a less risky option than venturing on your ownsomes I have,” said the rough, heavily accented voice, “your sort like need protection from such as I and mine, Damagutz, yes? May I join you, and have your ear like? Monster heads to be cutting awf, yes?”
Raul turns to take a look up at the man as he opens his mouth; "We are ha-"
A- well, an unholy noise leaves Raul's mouth, mouth ajar and fingers flying to wrap tightly around his necklace, and feeling around fruitlessly for a moment at his hip for his blade. He doesn't find it, and his heart finds itself lodged somewhere within his pelvis, hammering away as though he'd had twelve of Angela's bitter teas. The orc- Damagutz, presumably -continues on.
“Is that a brew I smell? Come now, invite Damagutz in to this here thing, and we can sip and sup and saunter on to danger proper before any more do cut the cake of prize money for the deed yet done righteous like in the day. Before anyone else comes-a-creepin in to this,"
Raul looks to Angela for... Something, anything. An explanation, perhaps.
Damagutz Ziggy Steele Don't know if Ziggy still wants to be a part of this, or if they're even still active, but I'll at least give it a nudge if you'd like to continue, Tophat
Heavy footsteps approach, and just as quickly; “Come to offer a less risky option than venturing on your ownsomes I have,” said the rough, heavily accented voice, “your sort like need protection from such as I and mine, Damagutz, yes? May I join you, and have your ear like? Monster heads to be cutting awf, yes?”
Raul turns to take a look up at the man as he opens his mouth; "We are ha-"
A- well, an unholy noise leaves Raul's mouth, mouth ajar and fingers flying to wrap tightly around his necklace, and feeling around fruitlessly for a moment at his hip for his blade. He doesn't find it, and his heart finds itself lodged somewhere within his pelvis, hammering away as though he'd had twelve of Angela's bitter teas. The orc- Damagutz, presumably -continues on.
“Is that a brew I smell? Come now, invite Damagutz in to this here thing, and we can sip and sup and saunter on to danger proper before any more do cut the cake of prize money for the deed yet done righteous like in the day. Before anyone else comes-a-creepin in to this,"
Raul looks to Angela for... Something, anything. An explanation, perhaps.
Damagutz Ziggy Steele Don't know if Ziggy still wants to be a part of this, or if they're even still active, but I'll at least give it a nudge if you'd like to continue, Tophat