Private Tales Reckoning

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer

Mako

Reckoner
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Character Biography
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I always hate these little villages. Mako thought to himself with a slight frown as he hopped off the small cart and offered the old farmer a wave, his other hand coming up to flip him a coin.

"You be careful now son, folk like you are considered bad luck in these villages."​

That warning was exactly why he hated these places. Mako had grown up in a village like this one, small, insular. Every outsider was regarded as suspicious and anyone different was seen as a threat. If he'd had a choice he never would have made his way here, but the clues he'd stumbled upon in Alliria had practically screamed this towns name.

Ignoring, unfortunately, was not an option.

Not if he wanted to get rid of this fucking itching in the center of his back.

It was the first time in two years that he'd ever actually experienced anything from the tattoo. Radic had warned him about it, had told him the rules. If he ever felt it, a compulsion, a pain, anything, he had to follow it. Even if it broke a mission, even if it meant putting crewmembers(aside from Radic himself of course) in danger.

The Reckoners had to have their revenge.

In this case that vengeance would be wrought for a man named Charos Tremere. A man whose name had been enough to send a shiver through most Merchant Lord's spines. He had been a freelance enforcer of sorts, working for the highest bidder and putting his considerable muscle to whatever project he was pointed at.

Mako hadn't known him personally, but that didn't matter much. He had been the closest to Charos when he'd died, and that meant the task fell to him. At least for now.

He'd found only one clue on his fellow Reckoners body, a clue that had lead him here to this tiny little village. He couldn't imagine it was anything but a hide out, a way to escape and getaway from the retribution that was to come. Mako frowned for a moment, looking at the bloodied slip of paper that he'd kept in his coat pocket to remind himself of the name

It read simply; Erik Grayson.

Deft fingers folded the slip of paper and placed it back in his coat pocket, the rogue silently stepping towards the Inn has his blade clattered slightly on his back.
 
  • Nervous
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The inn was aptly named 'The Inn' owing to the fact that it was the only inn in the little village, and because it was the only inn in the little village, every villager frequented it's tavern most nights. Tonight was no different, and old Griff was playing a lively tune as others around him clapped and stamped along. It was a pleasant atmosphere, and a recent delivery of ale barrels and wine casks made it all the merrier.

Emilie had been here only a few weeks, but she found she quickly knew every villager by name, and found that she adapted rather easily to the quiet life. It'd been six weeks since they'd travelled here from Alliria, six weeks since they'd been told to run and hide and never return home. Since then she, her father and younger brother had been here, and Emilie had been working in the tavern to pay for their room and board. Her father had taken a carpentry job, and her brother helped him around the shop. It was much quieter than what she was used to, but they'd made do.

As the tavern door opened, Emilie was in full gossip with the other barmaid, Sissy about the farmer's son Tomasz who had kissed her the night prior despite courting the baker's son Rickon!... It was about as much scandal as there was around here, and Em did her best to look utterly aghast. The buzz around them seemed to have died down however, and the two girls followed everyone else's gazes toward the stranger in the doorway. Even the lute had stopped playing...She'd never get used to this.

Em cleared her throat loudly to break the silence and Griff slowly started playing again, albeit quieter than before. Gods forbid he not hear who this man was and what his business was here. The two barmaids exchanged girlish smirks. It wasn't often handsome strangers passed through, and she was quite certain it'd be the talk of the village for the next week at least.

"What can I get you?" Emilie called as she deposited drinks on a table closer to the door. "You lookin' for a room, or just lookin' to get fed and watered?.." she asked with a friendly smile as she wiped her hands on her apron.
 
  • Sip
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Mako looked at the girl, cocking his head with a smile.

As he gazed at her the Mark on his back itched slightly more, though why he wasn't exactly sure. He looked around the room for a brief moment, as if wondering if the man he was supposed to kill was here. After a second his attention returned back to Emilie.

Despite what many assumed growing up, he wasn't deaf. It had taken him longer to learn what people meant, but he'd managed to figure out eventually. Listening was easy enough, it had been reading and writing that had presented the most challenge.

Even then he'd poured near enough every ounce of his energy into it once Radic had began to teach him. It was the first way they'd actually been able to communicate, the first way he'd ever been able to properly 'speak' to someone.

Now of course he had the signs, but only a handful of people knew those. Most of them being on the Crew of the Raven.

As the girl asked him for a drink the Rogue motioned towards her, then towards himself. Then he made a walking motion and pointed over towards one of the tables. Then he made as though he were picking up an invisible cup, drinking from it.

Each motion was deliberate, slow, and obviously practiced.

Over the years Mako had walked into hundreds of Inns, and asking for a drink hadn't always been simple. He would see if this girl could pick that up.
 
  • Sip
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Emilie's head tilted as she watched him mime with his hands, her fingers curling a stray tress of copper hair behind her ear as she wondered what in the Gods' name was happening.. Oh...Either he didn't speak the common tongue, or he couldn't speak.

Me...him...walk...table...drink... She thought silently to herself, her gaze narrowing. Was he inviting her for a drink? Suddenly her cheeks flushed, and she grinned, about to say yes as casually as she could before Griff barked out at her.

"Em! Another round lass!" She looked at the table where Griff and his guffawing friends sat slamming their empty tankards on the sticky table..

"Aye you can wait!" she yelled back at them, and suddenly remembered that she was a barmaid. "Oh!" she blinked, laughing awkwardly under her breath as she looked back to the stranger, flustered and sheepish. "Aye, I'll bring you a drink.." she nodded and cleared her throat before returning to the bar, avoiding Sissy's gaze as she looked fit to burst with laughter.
 
  • Haha
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Mako watched the girl go for a moment, his eyes flickering down to her swaying hips and a tad below before he looked back up.

Eyes briefly glanced around the room.

How the fuck am I supposed to find the guy who killed Charos if I don't even know what he looks like. The Rogue thought with a grimace as he pushed through the slight crowd and wound his way towards one of the only tables that remained empty.

He wished that Radic had told him more about the mark, wished that he knew what he was actually looking for. The only thing he'd managed to dig out was that Charos had been dealing with a certain crime boss in Alliria. That man had sent the now dead Reckoner on an errand involving this 'Erik Grayson' whom had apparently fled to this village.

Finding that out had taken some...conversations with the man's neighbors, but a few broken bones and some missing fingers had given him the answers he'd needed.

Still, he couldn't entirely sure if this Erik fellow was actually the murderer, but it was his best bet. Besides, the Mark had gotten less itchy since he'd gotten closer to this place, so he had to at least be on the right path.
 
  • Thoughtful
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"Hush." Emilie snapped as she glanced over her shoulder at the man. Sissy was gibbering on about him in her ear.

'Did you see that smile? .. Maybe he's single... Wonder who he is... I wouldn't mind getting to know him a little better if you know what I mean.. Gods, those eyes.'

"Sissy." Emilie had to physically drag the woman's attention back to her by the chin. "Take that tray to Griff's table." she gestured toward it as she lifted the large tankard of ale for the stranger, smirking at Sissy's over exaggerated huff at her back.

"There you go." she smiled as she set the ale down in front of him. "Anythin' else I can get you?.." she asked, her hand self consciously rubbing over the thick scar on the side of her neck as she tried not to fluster any more over Sissy's words.. Those eyes indeed.
 
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As he waited for his ale Mako looked around the room.

Already he could see a few of the people watching him. Some were watching him closely, others just passing glances. A few looked at his sword in particular, either weary of the weapon or the man carrying it all together. The Rogue tried not to pay them any mind, mostly because these types tended to be mostly blowhards and fools.

Best not to indulge them with even a passing glance.

When his ale came he looked up at the girl, smiling slightly and glancing down at the cup for a moment before he looked back to her. He mouthed 'Thank you'

Then he quickly pointed at himself for a moment. A second later he pulled his jacket and shirt to the side just a bit. On his shoulder blade was tattooed his name in a simple script, as though it had been written by a child.

He then let the cloth flow back into place and pointed at her.
 
  • Wonder
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Thank you…

So he did understand her, he just had no voice. She returned a small smile and dipped her chin. “You’re welcome..” Em shrugged, and her head tilted curiously as she watched him.

“Ma-ko. You’re Mako?” She asked, her brows lifting with a smile at the clever tattoo. She tapped unnecessarily on her own chest.
“I’m Emilie. Nice to meet you Mako.” She smiled warmly.

“Just wave if you need anythin' else..” she nodded and turned to head over to some impatient patrons.
 
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  • Thoughtful
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He nodded his head when she asked if his name was Mako.

As she said her name he mouthed it, and then nodded to her before leaning back in his seat. He shifted against the heavy wood behind him, scratching at the mark on his back. He frowned slightly as the sensation didn't even ease a bit.

It was as though a thousand insects were constantly crawling beneath his skin, urging him, pressing continuously. Mako absolute despised the sensation, and as Emilie stepped away the sensation almost seemed to get worse.

A frown touched his lips.

Could she have? No.

If she was the one who killed Charos then either she had some very powerful magic, or the man had underestimated her a good bit. His eyes followed her as she moved through the room, not staring, but not subtle either.

A fact which a man at the table besides him noticed.

"Oi! What you doin starin?"​

Mako turned towards him, blinking slightly as the brutish man shifted in his seat so he could better face the outsider.

"We don't be doin none of that in our little town."​

Had he been able to speak, Mako would have pointed out the half dozen men he'd seen pawing at the serving girls since he'd actually been here.

Unfortunately, no words passed from his tongue.

"Answer me! What you think you're too good to talk to me?"​
 
  • Nervous
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The more they drank, the louder they got, and the louder they got, the more they had to shout over one another. Emilie had picked up the few skills necessary to pacify a tavern full of rowdy men and deftly hurry several drinks through the bustle at once. One had grabbed at her on her first evening working here, and she'd pinned his hand to the table with a steak knife, so she didn't have to worry about the side of things neither. Sissy, it seemed, didn't mind being grabbed at now and then.

She was heading back to the bar with a tray of empty tankards when she heard Ranald's voice rise aggressively above the rest and she turned with a sigh to see who the grizzly man was yelling at. "Leave him be, Ranald! He doesn't say much, just drink up an' get home to your wife lest I tell her you drank more than your allowance." her slender brow quirked and she winked at the man. Ranald's wife was even more grizzly than he was, he had every right to look as worried as he did.
 
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The man looked at Emilie for a moment, then at Mako.

There was a low growl in his throat, as if he were some sort of dog making a threat. His eyes spoke of violence. It was a look that Mako had seen most of his life, a man barely held back. A moment passed, a second where the Rogue thought he might get into a fight.

Then Ranald stood up from his bench and turned his back to Mako.

It was a mistake that not many would have made, not back in Alliria. Turning your back on someone you'd threatened was never a smart idea, but he supposed in a village like this they did not expect such things. Moron.

Mako thought to himself.

"Whatever, best be gettin home anyhow. Best not be seeing you in the morning, boy."​

Ranald said as he turned to Mako and waggled his finger.

The Rogue looked up at him, then just shrugged his shoulders. The motion earned him a scowl, but no other words as the hulk of a man stalked off.
 
  • Nervous
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Emilie deposited the empty tankards and distributed fresh drinks across the tavern, exchanging friendly banter with each patron she came into contact with. She was sharp as a blade and ready for the cheek of any drunken man, and she enjoyed putting each of them in their place.

She grinned as she put another tankard down in front of Mako. "On the house. Sorry about him, he's a grumpy old shit. Takes them a couple days to warm to strangers." she mused. "Are you travellin' through the night, or will you be needin' a room?" she asked, her hand on her hip as she ran the back of her wrist across her brow.
 
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A shrug rolled over his shoulders as the girl explained Randal's motivations, his face telling that he was not unused to such treatment.

The itching eased once more as Emilie stepped towards him, coming down to just a slight tingle as she stood in front of him.

A frown touched his face for a brief moment as he considered. Radic had said little about the actual magic surrounding the Reckoners mark, but he was certain it would have stopped altogether if she had been the one to commit the crime.

Perhaps she knew something.

It was a reach, in truth. The easy option would have been drawing his blade and running it through her belly, seeing what the mark did then, but...Mako didn't want to do that. Besides, his gut told him she hadn't killed Charos. It just didn't seem right. Why would someone who'd murdered a man like that be working in a place like this.

His head shook for a moment, and then he placed his palms together and tilted his head to the side as he laid them against his cheek.

The Rogue mimed a snoring noise, though of course no sound escaped his lips.
 
  • Bless
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The barmaid grinned at his creative ways of communicating with her and she chuckled quietly.. "Well alright then. I'll just see to this lot and get a room ready for you." she nodded and rolled her eyes at the men already yelling for her as she turned away.

"I hear ya, I hear ya!" she waved an arm. "Hush now or I'm cutting' you all off." she warned with a smirk, and settled them with more drinks whilst Sissy brought out plates of pies and fresh bread.

Em filled a jug with fresh water and lifted a few logs for a fire and headed upstairs to ready the last room. It was sparse, but clean, and she set the water jug next to the wash basin and threw the logs into the hearth and knelt to get a fire going.
 
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Mako stayed and drank.

He lingered in the tavern as the crowd began to thin. The moment Emilie walked away from him the itching began again, and a small frown flickered on his face as he stared into his cup of ale. He was convinced the girl at least knew something, had a sliver of information.

Why else would the mark react to her?

Quietly he wished Radic was here. That he could ask some questions, figure out a piece of this mystery. Frustration bloomed in his chest, his thoughts running away with a thousand possibilities before the other tavern girl stepped up towards him.

"I believe your room is ready, Mister. Emilie will have gotten it ready for you."​

Some of the few remaining patrons glanced towards the pair, but Mako simply nodded. He motioned to her, the hall, and then himself.

Sissy stared at him in confusion for a moment, but after a few seconds she seemed to catch on.

"Oh! Yes. Yes I can show you."​

The girl said with an emphatic nod as Mako stood, following her lead through the tavern room and down a hallway towards the back.
 
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Em lit the candle on the bedside table and turned down the bed sheets, the little room now suffused with a warm and comfortable light from fire and flame.

"Last one on the left there, handsome. Just knock twice if you need tucked in." Sissy winked playfully, gesturing to the room.

By the time Mako was at the door, Emilie was just leaving, satisfied that the room was comfortable enough. She held out the large, brass key to him. "There we go. Will you be havin' breakfast in the mornin'?"
 
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Mako looked down at Emilie for a brief moment, watching her and noting the sensation on his back easing up once more. The itch turned from an oppressive omnipresent thing to a slight tickle, something that could practically be ignored.

The Rogue wanted to sigh loudly, but managed to keep his face even.

She was a key to this somehow, whether killer or connected, it didn't matter. Briefly he considered, and then he nodded his head to her question as he reached out and grasped the key gently. As he slipped it free from her hand he mimed sleeping again, and then stuck out his fingers to indicate the number two.

A second after that he pulled a few coins free from his satchel, more than enough for two nights, and then slipped it into her palm before she could object.

Mako knew that he couldn't just grab her off the street and take her, nor could he do so in the midst of the tavern. A beautiful young woman being nabbed by a stranger? This place would rally a mob within the blink of an eye. He was good, but even he couldn't fight twenty or thirty armed men.

No. He had to be more careful.
 
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Em found her cheeks warm slightly under the mercy of those amber eyes of his, Sissy's little voice still whispering in the back of her mind. Gods if she could only gag the female. She smiled and gave a nod in understanding. "Two nights. Alright.." she cleared her throat, watching the exchange of key and coin and frowning slightly as he overpaid.

"Oh, that's at least three night's worth, here." she took a coin from her palm and offered it back to him.
 
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Mako should his head and then pointed towards her.

His hand came out and he pressed the coin back into her palm, folding it over into her hand before drawing back and stepping aside so that she could move into the hallway. He smiled, taking a polite bow and waving her forward.

He was going to do this carefully.

This village watched outsiders, but if he gave them no reason to suspect them then pulling all of this off might not be as hard as he expected. Things would just have to be taken step by step, even if it took him a few days.

A smile pulled at his lips as he waited for her, no urgency to the way he stood.
 
  • Ctuhlu senpai
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"Oh.." her eyes rose to him and she smiled brightly with a breath of a laugh in awkward realisation. "Well, thank you." she nodded politely, slipping the coin into the pocket of her apron and stepping passed him, her fingers drawing over her scarred neck once again.

"Well, goodnight. We'll see you for breakfast. The sausages are great!.." she chuckled and turned to rush down the hallway.

"The sausages are great?.." she muttered to herself in a groan and shook her head.
 
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For a brief moment Mako watched Emilie walk away, then he quickly slipped into the room. His eyes flickered over the inside of the small space. Well it's better than a hammock in the aft deck.

He thought to himself, reaching down to pull the lock closed and immediately grabbing the small chair in the corner of the room to jam it against the door.

No chances tonight.

With quick strides he crossed the room, unlatching the window and looking out it for a moment to see nothing but a dark alleyway. He smiled, and then quickly clambered out and onto the window sill. Hands quickly grasped after small gaps in the boards of the outside wall, and lithely he scaled the side of the Inn.

A graceful flip saw him land gently on the roof, his steps silent as he crawled to the apex and sat himself down within the dark shadows.

There he quietly waited, seeing if Emilie would step from the tavern.
 
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It took some time to convince the drunken patrons to leave, but one by one they each staggered home either warbling some song or continuing whatever debate they'd been having for hours already. Emilie's voice could be heard ushering them out and bidding them a stern goodnight until the tavern was empty and any remaining guests were in their rooms.

She and Sissy cleaned the tables and Marius, the barkeep washed and dried his cups and tankards, ready for a new day. There was something about the repetitive life that she found somewhat comforting, knowing what to expect with each new day that rarely ever changed. It'd been weeks now since they'd come here, and the more time passed, the more relaxed she felt. The more sure she felt that they'd gotten away.

Emilie's father and brother had taken to sleeping in the shop when their workload required it, and so she packed some bread, cooked meat and cheese into a basket. "I'll see you in the morning." she smiled at Sissy who waved her off as she stepped out into the warm night.
 
By the time Emilie took her leave Mako was practically lounging on the roof top.

He lay within the slight slant against the chimney, the brick being surprisingly comfortable. He was practically dozing off when he heard the girls voice through the crisp night air. His head shot up, eyes focusing through the dark as he spotted a slight figure moving through the streets.

Finally. Mako thought to himself as he quietly pulled himself up.

His feet stepped silently on the tiles, quickly moving towards the edge of the room and lowering himself down onto the ground when Emilie stepped just out of view. A few seconds later he trailed behind her, always sticking to the shadows, always clinging to the nearest wall.

The Rogue trailed after her, keeping his distance so that she was just barely in view.

Just as Radic had taught him.
 
  • Nervous
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Emilie had every reason to suspect that she was being followed and yet the little village had never been anything but peaceful and she had walked the streets alone at night many times. And so she had been lulled into a false sense of security and remained entirely sure that she and her family were safe here.

The streets were quiet as the village settled down for the night. The workshop was at the other side, along a lone, dark path next to the farm houses, and Em took her time, taking in the fresh air after a long day of smelling nothing but ale and men.
 
Trailing people was easy, but not in a place like this.

Mako had spent most of his time doing this sort of work in cities and harbors. Following someone in the streets filled with crows was simple, running along roof tops was even better? But this? This was an utter nightmare.

The Rogue was finding it harder and harder to spot a place to hide as Emilie went along, having to tuck himself behind tree trunks and fallen oaks the further they went away from the village center. By the time they reached that long dark path he'd all but run out of places to hide.

When he stepped off the trail he had to work hard at avoiding things on the forest floor, but even patient steps were not enough.

As she got close to the shop, the snap of a twig rang out behind her.

Mako looked down, and then unceremoniously threw himself onto the forest floor and flattened himself to the ground.
 
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