The Lone Highwayman

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Revan
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The Lone Highwayman

Post by Revan »

Hicks!

Standing over the pinnacles of north gate of Troll's Bane stood a man dressed in black staring between his Tricorne hat and the collar of his highwayman's coat. He waited patiently, motionless, for the sun to set so he could begin his work. The town was silent past the blabbering drunken guard outside the gate which suited him just fine. Months of traveling on the rocky waves of the open ocean finally brought him to his destination, Gobaith. Perhaps he could establish another successful guild for outcasts and wayward travelers.

His last outfit was doing exceedingly well, but he was smart knowing that moving around was safer. Not to mention traveling and discovering new havens for business was his true passion. What would Gobaith have to offer?

As the sun gave way to moon the stage was finally set and it was time to begin his work. Sliding his hands from the smooth stone he turned to the ladder and hopped down nimbly. Entering the city his swift footsteps lead him to the shadows, his home, his playground.


((closed rp, unless by invite))
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Joxia Doral
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Post by Joxia Doral »

As Joxia moved about town taking care of a few minor but necessary tasks more than once she thought had the feeling of being watched and that there was an obscure movement in the shadows. She almost bumped into the shadowy figure upon leaving the guard room at the east gate and mumbled a brief a hello as she passed, hardly pausing to take much notice of him.
When the Archduchess stepped out of the tavern into the night she halted after a couple of steps upon seeing the inky figure silhouetted in the path ahead and her instincts told her to be wary as she mustered a smile asking if there was anything she could do for him. A short distance away one her recruits walked by driving the figure into the shadows after he'd answered that she might help him.
She took a couple of steps closer to him keeping a brave face when he politely demanded coin in exchange for leaving the people of Trolls Bane in peace. Looking him over more carefully she noted the hilts of several daggers protruding under his finely made coat and she rested a hand casually on the hilt of her own sword which he took notice of, voicing that he might have actually met a worthy challenge.
She laughed and set her chin defiantly taking him up on his challenge for a 'friendly' duel and after giving him a short stiff bow she met his daggers with her swords the sound of the metals clashing ringing through the crisp air of the quiet sleeping town only for a couple of minutes, when she had to yield to his skill and step away from the fight, much to her chargrin.
Admitting her defeat, she told him that maybe they could work out an agreeable arrangement as she sheathed her swords, looking away for only an instant. When she looked back to where he had stood he was gone, but his voice came from the shadow, "until then keep your blade sharp." And then he was gone.
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Revan
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Post by Revan »

Several days after his rendezvous with the Archduchess, Joxia, the nameless highwayman continued to keep a low profile. So far most of the people he came across were compliant with his cordial personality. With each passing day he found himself liking the island more and more. It wouldn't be too long until bigger and better opportunities presented themselves. One such opportunity came after a long night, just before day break, from any elven mage in search of several rare artifacts offering 800 silver coins for one of them. Coin was not his own motivation, however, and looking into the matter a bit longer was a high priority.

His first priority still remained on finding individuals who enjoyed a bit more thrill and risk in their life. So far that pursuit only lead to moralists and innocent commoners. His only prospect did not look too keen on joining up, but only time would tell. Until then the night was all he could look forward to. Perhaps Ronagan would bless him with some nimble fingered prospects soon.
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Aurelius
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Post by Aurelius »

Walking into the largest city of the Isle, he couldn't help to notice how small it looked compared to the great cities of the continent. People were scarce and hardly any market to speak of. It bespoke of some backwater village that time forgot. Oooh, how he hated those villagers of his memory, and their moral, goodly ways. Men of ambition and power were often relegated to Guard duties or worse, serving some self-appointed nobles clean their boots! Never!

As he wandered through the town, he noticed several people moving, but others, content to watch as he was. Leaning against a wall, he barely noticed as one man, light for his size, padded across the street from one shadow to the other. "There's a man of ambition!" he mumbled, "He can't be from here" and chuckled a little.

Unbeknownst to him, the stealthy man was able to hear the mumble due to his keen sense of hearing the reflection from the wall.
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Revan
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Post by Revan »

As the daggers dug and slashed into the orc's flesh by some divine miracle the poison coated on each did not siphon into his blood stream. Still the shear swiftness and skill he used caused the orc to fall back and retreat almost instantly. Withdrawing his attack he quickly sheathed the daggers just above the six others strapped around his ribcage. This was only a warning strike for an orc that decided to ignore his words.

He felt his breath hastened and the adrenaline surging through his veins as he agilely moved away from depot of the workshop. Over his shoulder he could hear the crowd who witnessed the attack outraged. He couldn't count the number of times he performed similar feats, but there was no difference in the thrill and excitement of it all. Each time felt like the first time: the danger, the thrill, and the power. Judging by the sounds coming from over his shoulder no one was approaching him.He had made his attack now it was time to make his point.

Since it was just a warning he took out an antidote potion and tossed it to the orc by some slim chance he did get poisoned. The orc refused the potion and kicked it away. Then he called out,
"I did nuting wrongs!"

Some elf amongst the crowd spoke out too. "There is no place in this town for criminals like you."

Hearing the orc's and elf's words it was now time for him to speak. As he spoke a Gynkese accent could be denoted though it was slightly muffled by the pronounced collar of his trench coat. "Shut up, the orc had his chance."

Ignoring the crowds' mutterings he continued to speak to drive his point home. "Next I see-ya orc best remember. Fair warning ta all...when ya travel the streets be weary."

His spill was done it was time to leave and without a moments hesitation he descended back into the shadows his task complete.
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Kamilar
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Post by Kamilar »

Turning her steps homeward for the first time in what must be months, the dark-haired elfess blends into the early dawn landscape as she picks her way through the now unfamiliar trees. Her step is slow and hesitant, betraying an uncharacteristic fear, as she approaches the large house.

Pausing as she rounds the corner, watching a dark figure lurking in the shadows by the front door, she seems almost relieved by the distraction. Silently she says to herself, "I have to stop him from getting in the house," and strides forward trying to draw him away somehow.
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Larien.
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Post by Larien. »

The elfess finally let a wince trace over her face as she stepped away from the men, kneeling down to wash over the many cuts from the daggers on her arms and body. Though the cuts stung as she washed them, her mind was far away from that fight, instead circling with ideas of how to get what she needed. Eight hundred silvers could feed and armor her little band for months, and gods know the jobs weren't flowing in like she'd like.

She rose quickly from the stream, her hand slipping into her bag and bringing out a small, dirty parchment. She quickly scribbled down a note, called her bird and set it to the air. She'd need help getting this item and he was the one she thought of first. Her thirst for power, strength, and blood was stronger than ever, but perhaps this highwayman was right and she was going about it the wrong way. The elfess watched the bird until it was out of sight, then slipped away noiselessly from the town, her feet leading her to her own safe haven in the forest.
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Aurelius
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Post by Aurelius »

"Show me what you got" she said.

Outside the East Gate, they fought, each trying to guage the other's strength. Back and fro they battled, until, Max was finally knocked back.

"Ugh!"

Suddenly a figure emerged from the shadows, with a gleam in his eyes and daggers aimed at Max's throat. Bending backwards, he defended himself against the immiment attack, sweeping a kick at the man to knock him off balance.

Recovering, the man attacked again, and Max barely had time to fight off the attack before being knocked back again, collapsing on the ground.

The man stayed, and threw him a healing potion, chuckling in a Gynkese accent. Confused, Max accepted it and noticed a familiar gleam in the man's eyes; one of ambition and cunning. Emotionless orbs which saw all, yet not distracted by it.

The Elfess charged the man at that point, battling with fury, before being thrown back herself. The strange man had stayed his final coup' de grace, and only wished to talk.

Max realized this man was a master of the blades, that he was ambitious and could teach him all he could know. Against his lesser natures, at that point, Max bowed to the man, and begged him for guidance. The man nodded his assent. "One must follow before he can lead", Max consoled himself with that thought and accepted to be trained by this 'Master'.

Together, the three of them talked of many things, intrigues, plans and dreams. The elfess was suspicious and prideful for a while, but as they talked, she began to see that they were of the same cloth. The three finally came to an understanding and plan for the future.

Max recieved his training, and hope that this would not be the last he met of the strange man, his Master in the Blades. His will and purpose were intertwined with this man, and as a means to an end, Max couldn't do better. A good choice for a man of ambition, someday to be King by his own hand. Max smiled as he walked away from Bane.
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Drathe
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Post by Drathe »

The day was slowly breaking, the blotted inky sky giving way to distant streaks of pink and blue. The air was fresh, grass tipped with early morning due. Drathe strode on, eyes down on his boots as they stained with the wet of ground. It was by the tree, just down from the Golems their paths crossed. A man in a well fitted black coat and tricorn hat stopping smoothly in his tracks. From what he could see he had a look of cunning about him, a sure and easy pride, like an eagle.

A little talk was exchanged. The man, dark against the ever brightening sky was hard to understand, accent thick, voice muffled by the collar of his coat. Drathe’s hand eased casually over a sword pommel. This man before him, man of black seemed confident in his calm approach, standing firm with easy grace. If there was to be trouble, better he play it on his terms if he could sway it so.

Drathe flicked a silver coin out to the man, a wager being cast out as he did. The silver coin would be the un-named mans if un-bested in a duel, else he doubled it at his loss. A well practiced, warm and easy smile painted his face, hiding the surprise at the unknown mans speed of reflex, coin snatched from the air and played with. This might not have been the best wager Drathe had ever played.

So they fought. Drathe’s hopes of victory slipping away fast, outmatched by his foe’s dexterity. An opening had Drathe shove at the man, forcing him away. He took breath as his opponent held his ground. With a swallow, Drathe surged forward again only to be tripped and tossed to the ground, head thunking into the damp grassy earth. A bottle was offered to the dazed and defeated, handed out with talk of sprit. It was then an offer was given, a fair and simply one at that. But would Drathe take to it?
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psdononymous
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Post by psdononymous »

The woman pulled the large, seldom used black cloak from the chest and put it on, pulling the hood up her features are immediately hidden in depth of its shadows. She pulled the door open slipping out into the night the parchment she had written earlier clutched tightly in her grasp as slipped silently from shadow to shadow getting by a small cluster of people completely unnoticed. She strained to see into the other dark recesses around her half hoping to see him there. Finally and uneventfully she reached the designated spot to leave her message.
Friend,
would like to speak with you about three who could be helpful to your cause. If you are interested, let me know.
~-~J

Leaving the parchment for him to find she slipped away returning by a different path than the one she used to come by.
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