Private Tales Unrequited Reunion

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
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The eclipse had been a waking nightmare around the world. Monsters. Magic. Mayhem. All the things mundane folks were horrified by skulking about in the menacing dark. All of it knocking upon the door before bursting in after a soft "go away" was murmured.

Roland needed away from it after the Allirian mess. All coasts were targeted in some form or fashion. The inky waves unwanted reminders of things that day. So he had taken a job far inland. A job that saw him traveling back to where he had been right before the terrors of the depths. Into woods that held common threats of beasts and bandits. Normal and real. Things he needed right now.

The traveling took a bit longer than normal as he avoided deeper waters even from rivers. A month had past since the eclipse. A month for his nerves to settle and for the night terrors to soften. He had become more comfortable is not fully secure in the idea of boat travel upon the rivers once more.

This was the state Roland and Princess were in when he opened the door of the inn isolated deep within the woods nearer the Spine than the sea. One of countless others that had been built for long distance travelers all over the world. One with a warm hearth, high walls, and plenty of beds available. This one, known as the Withered Oak due to the tree in its courtyard, was near empty of guests. Only a few locals that logged or mined nearby for a meal and drink, a down on their luck bard, and some random travelers that could be merchants or adventurers.

The sellsword walked over to the counter tended by a middle aged woman. He requested a pint. Beer, ale, or stout. Whatever was available. And also cream and water for his Princess who had barely poked her head out of his pack long enough to scout the room. Coins exchange and his requests provided. He found his way to a table to sit down and wait.

This was the place his client had said to find them at. All he could do now was spend time till they found him.

Briar White
 
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The eclipse had been an utter joy for Briar. Twelve deaths of men at the hands of her own Clan on the very first night, and many more sacrifices to follow until Crobhear lake was dark with the blood of the Witches' enemies. Even after the brief fight with the knights, she was still coming down from her high. She knew the High Mother was satisfied with this year's blood. She had to have been, to bless Briar in such an amazing way.

She was pregnant.

After pressure from her aunt and two years of wanting, she was finally pregnant. She had yet to tell her aunt but she suspected her coven already knew (no thanks to Penny). And, even though she was meeting Roland once more today (albeit in disguise), she had no intention of telling him it was his. It would be her fun little secret, and hopefully, he would never have to know. She would carry the baby to term in her clan and give birth to a daughter and he would be none the wiser.

Roland was smarter than Briar had initially given him credit for, and so she made sure her disguise was thorough. Where naturally her hips were curvy and full, she made her figure thin and tall. Her brown hair had been darkened to a black, and her blue eyes were now green. It was all thanks to a poor girl she had taken the soul of- Briar had found her nearly half-starved to death and ended her life with a surprising amount of mercy- it had been quick and discreet. Mostly because Briar couldn't exactly take her appearance if she was slashed to pieces.

She walked into the tavern wearing the dead girl's face, shadowed by a hood. She was rather pleased with herself for orchestrating the whole thing; she had seen Roland near by Wood Clan territory a couple days ago and thought she'd lure him to this lonely little tavern for a bit of fun. She had come under the guise of being a "contact", someone with information to sell him about some made up bandits or thieves of some sort. She was surprised he had fallen for it, but glad anyway.

As soon as she walked in, she saw him, sitting at the bar, a pint in hand. She slid into a seat beside him, her smirk hidden by her hood. "Hello," she said, her voice soft and smooth like silk.

Roland Grayson
 
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The sellsword passively watched the room from his seat as he nursed his pint of stout. Was expecting ale but stout worked very well too. Princess had taken to the table and was enjoying her cream and water as well. A few eyes on the pair. An obvious reaction to how good looking they were. Never once was it ever because an armed individual in a tavern had a cat with him that he was idly petting in public.

A woman eventually joined him and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up when she spoke. There was something about it that he couldn't place. A sudden fight or flight sensation. But he didn't know this woman. A tall, lanky gal with dark hair and green eyes. Definitely didn't know anyone like that.

For a brief moment he thought he saw a different figure. Curvy in all the right ways. Lovely brown hair and beautiful blue eyes. A familiar glow about all of her. In a blink it, she, was gone and it was just the willow woman before him.

A smile crossed his lips. "Greetings miss. Here for my company or the little Princess' favor? A warning though. We both have specific requirements."

Roland gave the woman a flirty wink. Best to start the little game and get his persona cemented in her head. Not like he was going anywhere till the client showed up. A bit of friendly chatting and teasing would help pass the time.

Princess had different thoughts. The most white cat pinned her ears back and growled. A hiss then she swiftly buried herself back into her castle that her human called his travel pack.

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For a moment Briar wondered if perhaps her disguise was not thorough enough; she noticed recognition flit across Roland's features briefly, but then it was gone.

Just like last time, he flirted with her shamelessly. But, unlike last time, she was not as coy. Her smile was bland and dry as she pulled down her hood. When the woman behind the bar asked what she wanted to drink, she turned her down. She didn't need anything to drink. Not yet.

She turned her head fully to Roland. It seemed as though nothing about him had changed. Save for his company. A cat that was apparently his sat on the counter, drinking a bowl of what looked like milk. He called the cat Princess, a rather foolish name for such a beautiful, fearsome creature. Perhaps not as fearsome as it's larger relatives like the mountain lion or cougar, but still fearsome. Princess proved her fearsome nature by hissing and leaping into Roland's travel bag.

Briar gave no reaction other than a raised brow.

"Yours," she replied, and it was a challenge to keep her voice dry and bland. "But I have my own requirements as well. I am the client you are waiting for," she continued simply.

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The response to his flirting got a raised brow from Roland at first. The moment she stated that she was his client though it went back down. Made sense now why she had said it the way she had. He kept up the smirk and the energy but was already shifting to a more serious mindset.

"Ah my client finally arrives. What sort of job do you have for me today? Perhaps something requiring lots of hand work."

That one was very bad. He actually felt ashamed of how just plain bad it was. Not corny bad just bad bad. The sellsword committed and kept up the act with a wink after, but he had lost points with himself for that one.

Princess was nowhere to be seen. She had completely buried herself into her safe spot in her pack home.

Briar White
 
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Briar physically cringed at Roland's last comment. She knew he was bad at the flirty comments but it had been in an endearing sort of way. That one had just been plain awful.

"Unfortunately, there is some hand work," she said, her voice still dry. "There are a few thieves who roam the the road through this forest, and it leads to this inn. They have the unfortunate habit of killing the travelers who come through here, which limit the customers this poor tavern receives. I had received reports of your work dealing with bandits and thieves and the like and thought you a good fit for the job," she said.

But the joke was on Roland- Briar herself was the thieves, or rather thief. She had stolen trinkets from people travelling down the road and then killed them only barely refraining from taking their soul. At least their whole soul. When a soul left a body, dead or alive, it was noticeable, and anyone who wasn't dense would notice the signs of magic about the body, and Briar wanted her thieves to be regular humans.

"Do you agree to take this job?" she continued.

Roland Grayson
 
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The shift to more of his work mode than his work persona had finally finished. The smirk was less present than before. He was sitting straighter. More focus in his eyes. His energies had changed for those more aware of such things. Roland was ready to discuss business rather than "business."

"Thieves and bandits killing along the roads? Is a job that interests me.... But what kind of pay and rewards would be in it for me?"

The sellsword had eliminated them before in the area free of charge, but those were different circumstances. He had a personal grudge against that group and he felt it was an unspoken addition to a job he had already been paid for. Despite his roguish mask he never left a contract unfinished unless the morals of it were too wrong for his taste.

He also knew it was never a good idea to agree to work before hearing some key details. Pay was one of them. Too little or too much for the kind of job it was told some important things. A good gauge on how trustworthy or wealthy an individual was. Too much often being the worst sign and too little more a sign of a lack of resources (which he could work with) rather than a sign of ignorance or over frugality.

What would this woman be offering for his work? Would it be worth it for him or something he best walk away from at the start?

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Briar pretended to think and consider her options. "100 gold. 50 now and 50 after you've done it," she replied. It was fair and reasonably priced; Roland would be a fool to turn the offer down.

"If you agree, you'll need to 'sign' a contract, in a way," she added nonchalantly, hiding her eagerness well. This was almost too easy.

She had a plan all set up- a bloody trail behind her, but it didn't bother her. Not too much, anyway.

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The amount of gold might be too little or too much. So far he had no idea what kind of situation he would walk into. That amount of gold made it difficult to predict what was happening. The best he could hope for was this person just really wanted a small group dead and the worst was this person was sending him after an entire gang on the cheap for their part.

While he mulled over the payment he remained unconcerned about the contract as of yet. It was standard and something he would always demand for his own end as well. Clients had a nasty habit of trying to cheat you or try to get rid of you if you lacked any sort of proof they had used your services.

"Before I agree, roughly how many people are you sending me after? Any other information on them as well?"

Question was asked. Time for Roland to listen closely so he could decide if this would ultimately be worth risking his head and time on.

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"From the few survivors, I've gathered that there are two or three thieves, who pride themselves on their... animalistic way of fighting. So if you know any sort of higher technique I'm sure you'll be fine."

Briar was replying to his questions on the fly, making something up that best fit the situation. And if she was being perfectly honest with herself, she was doing a great job at it. Roland was walking straight into her hands.

"Any more questions?" Her voice was bored, almost daring him to ask more questions. She would have answers.

Though she had to give the man credit for at least attempting to make sure this was a trustworthy job that he could handle.

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So far the job was sounding reasonable enough if a bit demanding. That was not so unusual as clients tended to try to squeeze every copper for all it was worth when it came to jobs. Two to three untrained robbers wouldn't be too hard for the promised pay. Their effect on the local trade and traffic would also inspire a bit of a higher demand to see them gone quickly as well.

There was no other questions that came to mind. A mostly standard job for a slightly higher than average pay. A good reason to justify coming back out to such a remote area of the world.

But there was always a need to keep up his persona to some degree while in public.

A smirk crossed his lips. "Last question. Do you come with the 100 coin reward too?"

He gave her a wink and leaned towards her ever so slightly. A real scummy mix of words and actions. Wasn't a great idea to potentially lose future clients, but he needed to get the impression of him more back to his persona. Showing too much of his serious side might cause problems after all.

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Briar sat there at the bar as Roland mulled it over. When he eventually spoke up, it was not in acceptance of the job, as she had expected and hoped, but rather another attempt at flirting.

"You wish," she said dryly, doing her best not to smile or laugh out loud. He would soon discover that she was in fact the job and the reward.

"Are you taking the job or not? I can easily find someone else to do it for cheaper," she continued. The last half of her statement was a lie, but Roland didn't need to know that.

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Her reaction to his remark was expected. Who wanted their hired hand for such a violent job to be sitting there and making suggestive remarks at them of such a carnal nature? So that comment from her was fine. What wasn't fine was the following remarks.

Roland frowned slightly for a brief second upon hearing what his potential client had to say before his smirk returned back to his lips.

That was the kind of person he hated working for the most. Jobs from the ones who held the option of going to someone cheaper always ended poorly. The comment was almost always a bluff and a form of manipulation. This was feeling the same.

Roland tapped the top of the table a couple times before saying, "Well guess I'll have to decline. Wouldn't want you to pay more than you need to. Extra coin might prove vital. Sorry I took up your time."

He gave her an apologetic smile then made a bit of a waving motion to indicate he was finished. Then he went back to focusing on his beer.

Well this job was a bust. Going to need to find a new one or might see if an official bounty was out on those thieves and bandits yet.

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Shit.

Luckily Briar kept the dry expression on her borrowed face, not revealing the brief panic that overtook her. It was stifled quickly, and she silently cursed her hormones.

"It was sarcasm," she said flatly, blinking at him. "I apologize for my... dry sense of humor," she added after a moment of silence, never taking her false green eyes off of him. "There is no one else here to take the job and I truly don't mind paying you what I said I would."

She paused a moment, as if thinking, before letting out a tiny, falsely dramatic sigh. "I could even add myself to the reward if that would... entice you."

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The mention of sarcasm and sort of apology was noted. Disregarded and disbelieved as well. It was in fact a bluff it would seem when she made her threat of hiring someone else. It would seem she was trying to force him into the job. Not something she would have needed to do as he was likely to take it if she hadn't made that move.

Should he accept it after the apology and mention of adding herself to the reward?

Roland began to take a deliberately long drink from his mug. His eyes focused on the bottom of it, but he knew she would be aware he was taking so long on purpose. Seemed smart enough to notice such a thing at least. He didn't need the addition as his comment was a jest as part of his persona, but some coin and dealing with the thieves still was something he wished for.

Once the mug was drained he tapped it with an audible, hollow ring. His gaze went over to her.

"Alright, I accept. Because you threw yourself in as part of the reward." He gave her a smirk. "But first, contract. Won't work without one signed."

He made a mental note to go over every word of the thing before he signed it. If she was bold enough to pull that earlier tactic on him then she was bold enough to try and slip something into the fine print.

Briar White
 
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Briar pretended not to be relieved when Roland finally agreed to take the job. He mentioned a contract, and it was even harder not to grin as she turned to face him fully.

"The contract for this job is not a piece of paper you sign with a quill... it is more permanent." she said, letting a faint smile color her pale features.

The tavern was emptying around them. The woman behind the bar had disappeared into a back room, and the rest of the dining and drinking room was empty as the door shut behind the last man to leave.

Briar extended a pale, long-fingered hand. "Your hand, please,"

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Something was off. Something was very off.

Roland glanced about the place and noticed they were all alone. Everyone was gone. Why? Then her words were also unsettling. More permanent than a written contract and it was a handshake? That was suspicious and foreboding in itself. Combined with the lack of people and he was suddenly feeling very serious right now.

No more reason to use a persona.

His face grew stern as the smirk dropped away. His eyes focused on the woman before him. His posture straight and taught like a crossbow ready to fire. His target the woman before him.

"What is going on here? Don't remember pissing anyone off around here, so don't think there is a bounty out on my head."

Who was this woman and why did he swear she seemed a bit hazy right now? It was like he was trying to stare at the horizon while the sun was setting.

Briar White
 
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Briar sighed through stolen lips as she contemplated Roland. He was rather paranoid, though she couldn't exactly blame him.

Quicker than a viper, her hand jerked out and gripped his wrist, her thumbing pressing into the veins on the underside until she could not only feel the quickened pulse of his heart but also the trembling of his soul.

In an instant Briar would let go of him, and her features blurred. Green eyes shifted to blue, lanky black hair shifted to a fluffy brown, and her figure rounded out, until she was once more in her natural form.

She wore a necklace of cloth taken from the girl's clothes and on it hung a small glass orb. It faded slowly from the same green as the dead girl's eyes to a dull gray.

Briar's mouth stretched into a grin.

"Hello, Roland,"

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What followed his questioning was nothing then suddenly much. She had been quiet and taken aback. Thoughts clearly in her head even with no real sign of them being there. Then she suddenly shot her hand out. He had no time to react before she had his wrist.

The sellsword was about to pull away but a sudden sensation rushed into him. One he had no words to describe as it was so unfamiliar and new. All he knew was it wasn't anything good for him that was going on.

But then she let go of him as suddenly as she had grabbed him. An outsider might say no time at all had past. For him it had felt like minutes.

His eyes went from anger to shock as the woman before him suddenly changed. No longer herself but someone else. Someone familiar and near the opposite of the previous woman. A snarl formed on his lips as he pushed back in his chair ready to stand.

"Briar."

Roland didn't know what the best thing for him to do next was. A witch was now before him with the biggest grin on her face. She had lured him here intentionally and with purpose. The thought of what that purpose might be nearly got his stomach churning.

"What do you want with me witch?"

Nothing good would come from this woman getting what she wanted.

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Briar had done a nifty little spell on Roland and what happened next, she didn't particularly care. Even if he ran out the door now, she would not mind- she had done a sort of tracking spell on him- she would sense and feel when his soul was near. Already, she could feel the brief bit of fear before it was overshadowed with anger.

Poor, silly, little man, she thought smugly, reclining in her chair as he pushed back in his, trying uselessly to put distance between them.

"You're a right fool, you know that?" she said, completely ignoring his question. Her voice was very nearly sing-song and her grin never faltered.

She faked a tired sigh. "But we made a deal just now, you and I," she went on. She tossed him a pouch of coins. "Fifty for before. And seeing as how I've already taken care of the thieves, you won't need the other fifty. But you can still have me if you want me."

She thought it highly unlikely that Roland had suddenly lost all dignity and would take her up on her offer. She fully expected him to run out the door.

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The sellsword frowned at everything the witch said and did. He felt furious. He felt insulted. He felt confused. He felt curious. He felt aroused. All these different swirling emotions springing up from one thing or another only to collide into each other and give each emotion more fuel for their respective fires.

Briar never had answered his question, which was why he was confused and partly angry. The insulting way she spoke to him and how she tossed the coins at him as if she got to decide if he took the deal and then was handing him out pity pay was the main reason for his anger and entirely his feeling insulted.

But the only conclusion he could come to for why she was doing all of this lay in her offering herself in reward still. There likely was no thieves or she had just used ones she had coincidentally killed as an excuse for the job. All he could make out was that she had brought him here as a sort of messed up booty call.

And that thought is why he was both curious and aroused.

Roland hated to admit it but she did have a way of getting his interest. Their previous experience together and his familiarity with what lay beneath her dress didn't help either. If he had the chance for a second time with her then he would be lying if he said he wouldn't take it.

Which was why he was currently conflicted how to respond exactly.

Roland didn't let his guard down. He picked up and tossed the coins back her way. His eyes locked onto her own as he did.

"Didn't agree to the job so not taking any pay. Also not some whore so won't accept it for that either."

Be defiant in all things or relent and accept something he knew he wanted on a primal level?

"So was that what this all was about Briar? A second lay with me? If you wanted that all you wanted then why not just come up and ask? Think I'll say no?"

Could he say no?

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Briar was having so much fun. She shrugged as he tossed the bag of coins back at her and she caught it nimbly.

She shrugged again at his question. "This was more fun," she said matter-of-factly, rather enjoying the slideshow of different emotions on Roland's face.

"I do think you'll say no, actually," she went on casually. "You hate me, don't you?"

She twirled a lock of dirt-brown hair around her finger, raising a brow over a blue eye as she stared Roland down as if she could see the contents of his soul.

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"I don't hate you. I just don't know or trust you."

Roland's response to her was as immediate as it was true. As frustrating as her playing these games was that wasn't enough to make him hate her. If he did hate her then he would have already left or stabbed her by now. His feelings for her were complicated given everything that the two had so far been through, but he was mostly neutral on the woman herself.

Her body he hated to admit to himself though was a weakness for him. Pretty face. Lovely curves. Absolutely beautiful eyes. And he already knew how compatible they were physically together. There was a reason he was having a bit of a time not letting his eyes roam off her own right now.

"So if you thought I'd say no, what is this about then Briar?"

The same question she had already ignored once. Gods she was going to make things difficult he could already tell.

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So he didn't hate her. That was already ten times better than what Briar had thought Roland's opinion of her was, and it pleased her.

Briar raised an eyebrow at Roland. "Can't a girl have some fun?" she drawled, crossing her arms over her stomach subconsciously.

She thought vaguely for a minute that it would be fun to see his reaction when she told him she was pregnant with his child, but he didn't have to know. Mother providing, the baby would be a girl and Roland would never have to know in the first place. He didn't want a bastard child? Fine. He wouldn't have one. At least not one that he would know about.

She was having too much teasing Roland. It's not that she hated him, just like he claimed he didn't hate her. She actually rather liked him. Besides, she had a reputation to keep

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The sellsword just sighed at her answer. This woman just had to make everything difficult. Briar was too fitting of a name as all she seemed to want to do was prick and prod him till he was covered in nothing but holes and scratches. In fact, he still had some marks on his back she had left him with the last time they were around each other.

"Depends on what that fun you are having is Briar. Doesn't seem to involve the kind of fun I'd want right now at least."

Why was she like this? Because she was a witch? Or was it because she was mainly a similar sounding word to witch only with a b. A capital B.

"So what now? Got your fun and going home or did you actually think of something?"

For now he figured putting her into a position of thinking and making choices was better than letting her do what she wanted unchallenged. Maybe she would see reason and stop this silly game.

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