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The Story Thus Far (Crews' Email RP that kinda died)

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The Story Thus Far (Crews' Email RP that kinda died)

Post  WoTmaster on Wed Oct 14, 2009 3:26 pm

The chill wind blew through the town. It had traveled the distance down the mountain where the peaks were still packed with snow. The roads had recently cleared allowing people leave the confines of fire-warmed homes. Inns and taverns filled with those passing through on their way to make a fortune.

Delthith despised venturing into town. In fact he would have rather avoided large civilizations and the people they contained. However, his supplies were low. While he wore a sword at his side, half of it remained buried in the chest of an ogre. His bow had long since been shattered, his leather shredded, and the heels on his boots were falling off.

Sighing he pulled his cloak a little further over his dark skin and stepped across the street. Light filtered into the night from between the doors of the Raving Rooster. Delthith gritted his teeth as he stepped into the talk and laughter of the tavern.

Bodies filled the taproom, moving among each other as if waves on a sea. Few looked toward the door, but payed Delthith little heed, another visitor from the road. He slid his way into the room along one wall, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. Why did he do this to himself? He didn't want to be here, but now that he was, the warm fire, spiced food, and cold drink were hard to pass up. It was the same every time.

He looked around in the hopes of an open table in a dark corner. While the room was dimly lit, there were but a few seats free at occupied tables. Delthith shook his head. He was a ranger, master of the outdoors, yet controlled by a few basic comforts. Moving to the first open place he noticed several varied travelers sitting together. Leaning towards a woman at the table he spoke, "Space is rare in here tonight, might I share your table for a bit?"
_______

Her sapphire blue eyes shifted subtley beneath the rim of an audacious black, feathered hat. Aside from her usual traveling companion, the woman had rarely, if ever, seen a dark elf walk willingly into a crowded tavern. This piqued her insatiable curiosity... Besides, the poor sod who had offered to buy her drinks had passed out on the bar five shots ago, and she easily grew bored. Leaving the tab with the unfortunate man, she rose from her seat and strode confidently over to the newcomer.

The stunning woman stood at least six feet tall, with long, flaming red hair that swirled past her shoulders. She wore black cotton breeches that hugged every curve, a white jacket made of fine silk, and a black and white sash that sat just above her hips. The diamond-bladed rapier that hung at her side was displayed for all to see, as if challenging those less savory characters to just try and steal it from her.

Bowing slightly, she addressed the dark elf with a flashing smile. "Greetings friend, I can't tell you how happy I am to see someone of interest walk into this wearisome place! It seems you may be in need of a hot meal and some good company...or is that a good meal and some hot company... Hmm... Either way, I'm happy to oblige!" She winked at him and chuckled at her own joke.

"You may call me Deserata."
_______

The room was starting to spin already. It wasn't even midnight yet, How disappointing. Fortunantely Arlin's companions didn't blend in with the crowd. As he made his way to the table without spilling either of his ales, he wondered what town they were in this time. Didn't really matter he decided. There all the same, and they all had a chance for fun.

Though sadly nobody had even "tried" to steal his sword today.

Sitting down in the chair next to Deserata, he looked over the stranger. "Kietrich.... What ARE you wearing?"
_______

Kelindiar, "forgotten ones", in his own tongue. Lalinal, "the lost", in elven, when they do mention them. Most others call them dark elves, for lack of a better name. It was rare for his kind to be seen among other races, rarer for them to be accepted by them.

Delthith tried to find his voice. Taken somewhat aback by the forward woman and her seemingly confused companion, he wondered if this were a ploy to scare him out of town. He considered their words quickly and hoped it wasn't the case.

"I am sorry, my name is Delthith, and I am in need of a hot meal, and perhaps some good company."

He sat at the table with the two and caught the attention of a serving maid. He leaned in close to her, speaking loud enough to be heard over the general noise of the tavern. As she left to gather his food, the ranger turned back to examine his company.

In a crowd of hundreds, these two would stand out. It wasn't their dress alone, though they both appeared to enjoy fine fabrics. It was their presence. An air about them that anyone who cared to take the time to look could see, and feel. He didin't doubt that both could command a room with a smile.

He savored the aroma of his meal as it was placed before him. He began to eat, all the while watching the two for their reactions.
_______

A dark cloaked figure watched the happenings in the tavern from the shadows. It was much the same as every other tavern he had been in of late. Sometimes he wondered why he even bothered... but in truth he knew why. Loneliness. It had been a very long time since he had held real intelligent conversation with anyone. Sure he had the companionship of Cloy, but he was more a pet. No matter how much he enjoyed the beast's company, he was still that, a beast.

He stood by the wall, under cover of shadow. He stood 6 foot 5 and was hardly inconspicuous at that height. Covered head to toe in a dark midnight blue cloak, even his face was hidden in shadows.

He watched the odd elf walk across the room and converse with the woman seated at the table. One of his kind usually didn't show their skin in a publicly crowded room like this. It would be interesting to see how this played out. At worst the whole room could end up charging the poor fellow an running him from town. At best he could sit and enjoy a meal. How would that dark elf be received? The cloaked figure pondered and watched carefully.

Perhaps now that his previous job was completed he might get that intelligent conversation after all.
_______

Arlin looked at the bedraggled elf with curiosity. "Keitrich what are you tal.... &*@#&@ It's another one!" Suddenly realizing this was a completly different dark elf to the one he was used to traveling with.

"Sorry, Thought you were someone else! Names Arlin." Reconsidering his mistake he quickly added "Should have known right off. Your much more gabby." And Smiled sliding one of his Ales to the newcomer.
_______

Keeping her eyes on the dark elf, Deserata picked up the ale in front of Arlin and took a sizable swallow before setting back down in front of him.

Her easy smile and carefree attitude toward the newcomer, disguised the taut muscles ready to spring into motion at any sign that he may have more malicious intentions in this place. The swordswoman held no special love for the Raving Rooster or its patrons, but it would be a cold day before some slaughter-happy elf came to interrupt HER night. Well...it was a bit chilly...

Deserata casually fingered the onyx hilt of her rapier as she spoke. "You'll forgive our surprise, Delthith, but we were expecting another of your kin to meet us here tonight. You wouldn't happen to have run into him out in the wilds would you have?"
_______

Grabbing the ale, Delthith stared at the strange man briefly, then took a long drink.

"Thanks, it has been some time since I had a good drink."

He relaxed, somewhat. He was relieved that the pair did not let his outward appearance cloud their initial judgement as so many others would. The Kelindiar tended to avoid most other races. As such, his kind were oft viewed unfavorably, and thus, some tended to react the same way back.

The fact that they knew another of his kind, this Keitrich, was interesting. It also made him nervous. While all dark elves were grouped together as a single race by others, they were infact made up of several different clans, completely different from each other. Most were at least cordial to each other, but some had very different views of the world.

"No, I'm sorry, I haven't seen another of my kin for some time." He decided to probe a little more. "Have you been traveling with this friend long?"
_______

"Good drink?!? You still haven't. How long have you been in the wilds?"

Arlin looked down his half empty mug and sighed. He had planned on having two mugs, now he's only got half of one. Ahhh well. It may not be good, but it was cheap. He flagged over one of the better looking wenches.

"Kietrich? I don't know, he was around before I joined up." Then with a little more thought added "of course most elves have been"

"Tell us about yourself. Since you walk freely amongst others I'll assume you must be a "good" elf, and not the kind that will kill us all!" The swashbuckler leaned back in his chair, ready to kick the table into the newcomer if he didn't like the answer.
_______

"Shouldn't trust anyone who thinks this swill could pass for a good drink", she thought as she drained the last of the swill from Arlin's mug.

They'd been travelling together far too long for Deserata not to notice her companion shift advantageously in his seat. If it came to it, she was pretty sure the two of them could bring this dark fellow down before he was able to hurt anyone. Unless he had allies within the tavern... She scanned the crowd carefully, trying to pick out anyone who may be taking more than a casual interest in the conversation.
_______

Frowning at the ale, "I'll agree with you, I've had better made from tree moss. Still, it warms my toes, and I could be without it. It will do."

"As for myself, there is little to tell. I mearly travel, looking for work when I need it." Feeling that was a safe enough answer he took another bite off his plate, all the while watching the duo out of the corner of his eye. He must really learn to relax more, he thought to himself. In a crowded tavern there wasn't much that could happen. However, sometimes all it took was one wrong move or a bad word, and the entire place would be at arms.

"As for killing you all? I could ask the same of you. You haven't anything to worry about myself, though I don't know by what standards you classify good? My interest in this town is merely passing, that is all."

These two were an unusual pair. One liked to dance around a conversation, while the other went right for the throat. The way they played from each other made them seem as siblings, though something about them told him otherwise. In some respects he respect the direct question, though the connotation it carried was a little brash.

Rather than force any issues, Delthith decided to hurry his meal along.
_______

The dark cloaked figure watched the encounter unfolding with peaked interest. They seemed to be conversing pleasantly, at least outwardly. There was some curious changes in body language, subtle and not so subtle shifts. The woman and the man seemed to be long term acquaintences, traveling companions... The mere fact that they have not yet slit the dark elf's gullet shows promise that they are at least partially accepting of those typically considered... outsiders.

A glance out the window told him there were still a few hours of this night left. Best watch a little while yet. Perhaps soon he might try speaking with them. He was still wanting a real conversation and it has been so long. Best not to leave it too late tho. If things go well there would be no harm, but if they go poorly a cover of darkness would be helpful.
_______

"The Band of the Scimitars does not kill unless killing is warranted, I assure you."

She pursed her lips as she looked the dark elf over once again. "The state of your equipment and appetite tells me that you indeed are only here to recuperate for a bit. So please, no need to rush through your meal, that will only give you indigestion.

Summoning the nearest wench, Deserata slipped a gold piece into her palm and asked her to send the barkeep over to their table. She watched as her message was relayed to the man and then shot him an alluring half-smile when the wench pointed her out. The barkeep put down his filthy cloth and nearly tripped over a patron on his way over to the table. Beads of moisture were already forming along his hairline when he reached the red-haired woman.

"Laurond, thank you for coming so quickly! It seems my friends and I are in need of a more appropriate beverage for a first meeting." Deserata motioned the man closer and breathed a few words into his ear before pressing five platinum pieces into his hand. Without looking at the payment, the red-faced barkeep quickly turned and disappeared into a back room, emerging again after only a few seconds with a bottle of wine and three glasses.

Smiling brilliantly, Deserata let her hand brush gently across his as she took the bottle and glasses from him. "Thank you so much for your haste, Laurond."

Turning back Arlin and Delthith, she filled the glasses with the dark, red wine and slid a glass to each of them.

"I propose a toast," she stated as she raised her glass. "To old friends and new acquaintances! May the latter someday be the former and the former always be so."
______

"And to whatever it takes to get the good stuff served!" Arlin enthusiastically responded!

The dark elf had answered his question honestly, of that he was sure. He knew enough people who wanted to kill him, just for being him, that he could read body language pretty well. An assassin would a very different reaction if he though he was caught.

As he downed the first glass of wine he grimaced. "Well its definetly better.... Still I hope we get back to civilization sometime soon."
_______

The figure sat upon a small barrel covered with tiny black rooster markings just to the left of the Raving Rooster's entrance. His posture drooped like one who had consumed too much bad ale this night, though the fading purple cloak concealed any proof of drunkenness his face might give away. Strangers had passed him by all night long without a care as to his condition, believing him lost to the living world for one night at least, if they noted him at all.

Within the darkness of the cowl, however, two very alert eyes of deep crimson peered through the shifting tides of people moving about the tavern to the small gathering at a specific table. Black-gloved hands had glided inconspicuously to settle upon the hilts of scimitars beneath the folds of the cloak, the blades readied for action at a second's notice. He had never before drawn blades in defense of the swashbucklers' playful recklessness, but they had never taken company with one of his ilk before now. While he realized they undoubtedly felt the situation completely under their control, a dark elf hid emotion far easier than any other race due to the nature of their conspiratorial upbringing, and he would take no chances with the lives of his friends---especially those friends that never learned to take anything but chances with their lives.

If streams of blood were to be spilled this night, it would be dark elf blood decorating the floors and blades---be it his own or the other, certainly not his friends'.

Slowly, he let out a long exhale, calming himself. This night would drag onward into the wee hours as they always did with his two companions, and he would serve them now as ever he has . . . .

By waiting.
_______

Delthith allowed the slightest hint of a grin. Then raising his glass to the toast, he nodded to the other two. He moved the glass to his lips...

**********************************

With dramatic timing born of one in his profession, the door to the tavern burst open. A quick scan of the room revealed his target, one who he could never lose. The prize at the end of the road, the dove to his hawk, the foam on the perfect ale...he'd have to work on that one.

Short of stature (though taller than a dwarf, he proudly boasted), and with none of the elegance of an elf, his wild blond hair looked as if squirrels froliced in it. The clothes he wore were so brightly colored that people swore they could be heard. His smile beamed so greatly that light from the fire gleamed off his teeth.

Many tried to avert their eyes, but most failed to look away from the spectacle that was Jase Areson.

"DESERATA! My sweet! My heart! I have found you again, at last!"

The over use of his hands as he spoke was very important he believed. It aided in the emphasis of parts of speech as well as made it possible for those who were hard of hearing to keep up with the conversation.

Jase bound across the crowded room, a feat in itself. He dodged around a barmaid, rolled under a table, then threw himself upon the table, sliding to a stop in front of the swordswoman. Proping his chin on his hands he beamed lovingly at her.

"Miss me?"
_______

Arlin groaned loadly. Then he looked at Deserata. "See! I told you he'd get out of the sack. He got out when we triple knotted it last time. What made you think Double knotting would work THIS time?"
_______

Deserata caught the few drops of wine that had escaped her lips when the jester entered the Raving Rooster, before they stained her white, silk jacket.

"Double knotting it and then having it shipped to bloody Calimport!" She muttered under her breath so only Arlin could hear.

Realizing she wasn't NEARLY as drunk as she should be for this encounter, she poured herself another glass of the mediocre, but potent wine.

"Ah Jase! It's so...good...to see you again so soon," Deserata managed to smile through gritted teeth as she helped him off the table and onto a chair next to her.

It wasn't that she minded being the subject of his infatuation, it was just that he had to be so...public about it! The jester also, could command the attention of a room, a different kind of attention, yes, but attention none the less. The swashbuckler didn't appreciate additional rivals for this attention. Arlin was bad enough, but he wasn't exactly hard on the eyes and he held his liquor well, so she dealt with it.

Deserata ruffled his hair, causing a cloud of dust to explode from his head. "Well then, it seems we'll need another glass! Delthith, this is Jace..."
_______

The dark cloaked figure watched with interest as yet another human joined the group. Loud and boisterous this individual seemed to think the table was some other piece of furniture as he threw himself across it. Darthen paid close attention to the other's response to the newcomer. It seemed to be strained acceptance. "If only there were some magic potion that would make me appear as normal folks." he thought. The most recent attempt to approach people had brought screams of "Look out! A monster! Kill it!". He didn't want to risk the same again here. Perhaps if they leave the tavern...

Darthen walked ouside the tavern. There was someone in a faded purple cloak sitting on a barrel.

"Good evening. Mind if I share the night air with you?" Darthen asked in a low gravely voice.
_______

Delthith nearly fell over backwards out of his chair as the strange man dove across the table. Unsure whether to draw his blade or laugh, he looked questioningly at the other two. This Jase seemed to be aquianted with them, yet it seemed to be a strained relationship. Such an unusual dynamic among these people may be why they so willingly accept another one of dark skin.

------------------------------------------------

Jase melted under the touch of the redhead.

"Please, knots? You have to try something better than that. One time I escaped from a trunk that was chained and left floating in a rowboat. Lord Cuddleburn was so impressed that he sent me on a special diplomatic mission to the city of Nowhere. Nobody seemed to know where it was, so I went back to see if he got the name wrong. Funny thing, Lord Cuddleburn's kingdom wasn't there anymore! Just gone! It still saddens me to know that I wasn't there to protect it," a small sigh escaped his lips.

He looked to the newcomer. Jase narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brow. His eyes moved up and down the figure, carefully scrutinizing every inch. Discovering what he needed, his mood instantly changed.

"Please to meet you." Pulling out a playing card, he passed it over, "Adventurer, traveller, hero, LOVER, entertainer extrodinare." His smile beamed across the table.

--------------------------------------------------

Delthith accepted the card and attempted what he believed to be a genuine smile. Glancing down he saw that he held a blank card. He looked up to Deserata and Arlin. Seeing their expressions, he thought best to let any questions he had drop.
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