Erithryel
New
Roleplay posts: 5
Age: 20
Physical Description: Most of the time, Erithryel's long, dark hair cover her face and her torso. She stands just over 5 feet, with the slim body of a dancer. Her face and body mean that whenever she moves in a crowd, she inevitably attracts stares from men and women alike.
Clothes and Equipment: Erithryel wears a flowing cloth dress and elbow length gloves when she is in public or especially performing. The dress has a few enchantments to it that repel dirt and grim and generally prevent wear and tear. She also wears a leather collar around her neck, a reminder as her time as a slave forced to dance by a travelling band of Velthi. She carries her collection of instruments that include her tambourine and pipes as well as a drum that has a secret sleeve holding a dagger, along with one she keeps under her skirts.
Player's online availability : Evenings most days
Registered: Sept 18, 2017 15:39:17 GMT -8
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Post by Erithryel on Sept 19, 2017 15:32:51 GMT -8
With a sigh, she looked down at her bare feet and empty purse. This man and his troop seemed very well equipped, and already she was a bit terrified of his presence. Before, her masters had always stayed well away from any hussars or other military, as the Velthi where not well regarded.
"If you please, mi'lord, could I bother you for a loan of some coin to buy a mount? I promise to pay it back as soon as I can, and I promise to get something not too dear."
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Sir Stigs
Established
Roleplay posts: 12
Age: ?
Physical Description:
4' 11" ? lbs ? Hair ? Eyes
Sir Stigs is stout, iron-clad, head to toe in full plate with nigh an inch of exposure to the outside world. A majority of visage into the walking sentinel is from his narrowly open visor. Sir Stigs sees what is around him through this slightly curved, void black slit in the front of his helmet. Even those who are keen eyed struggle to make out any sort of eyes or form through the slit. In fact, they're not entirely sure there really is one true shape within. His armor appears to be worn from battling the elements, and perhaps other, more sentient forces. A red sash is tied about his waist, intricately knotted to hold a short sword tight to his left hip. He wears the pale, golden tan sigil of what appears to be a spearhead cutting through air upon his breastplate. The logo is rounded, mostly due to Sir Stig's tree trunk of a torso. And above all, much taller than he, is the pike that skims the clouds upon his back.
Clothes and Equipment:
Much the same as his physical description, as virtually nothing is exposed to the outside world.
Registered: Sept 18, 2017 16:35:32 GMT -8
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Post by Sir Stigs on Sept 19, 2017 19:14:56 GMT -8
Kazimir JankowskiAs the fellow would begin to bend to one knee, Sir Stigs leaned ever so slightly forward, beginning to reach his gauntlets forward. Had he an injury? Why would he fall? Then a thought, no, instinct brought his chin upward. Ah, the regal stranger was merely sparking conversation. Sir Stigs supposed there were benefits to looking up. On occasion. The mind wandered. Was the equestrian being condescending by his eye-level gesture? He pondered for a moment whether or not if he should be offended in this particular moment. He remembered the leaf on the wind from his travels. His memories flew through the air; Sir Stigs cared little. The stranger, now seeming a friend, smiled and opened his mouth to say many words. How many of those words were lost on Sir Stigs' armor, and then furthermore by his mind, even Sir Stigs did not know. Friend. North Village. Child. Safety. Threat. These words were powerful. They filled his chest with a funny, light feeling. Another road to follow, how pleasant. Pony. ....PONY. It was a pony Sir Stigs had ridden, of course. Where was that four-legged... what was that word... Friend. Sir Stigs' shoulders slouched. He did wish for a pony, but not just any. His own. Sir Stigs took a deep breath in and regained his composure. He looked to the horse's legs, then to his own, several times over. He nodded with vigor. He paused in this moment to allow the woman who had approached them to speak. You would note Sir Stigs turn his head in contemplation as she said the word "mi'lords". When she had said her piece, Sir Stigs nodded knowingly after some time and turned his frame back to the tall fellow. "No need. I can keep up as I am Milords." ErithryelWith a plated finger scratching the bottom of his helmet, it took a moment for Sir Stigs to decipher the woman's greeting. She must have been speaking to the taller member of their improvised group. Sir Stigs knew now the fellow's name: Milords. Very good. Sir Stigs would do little to interact with the woman without further instigation, preferring a weak, side-to-side wave, his cuff's armor creaking against his gauntlet.
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Erithryel
New
Roleplay posts: 5
Age: 20
Physical Description: Most of the time, Erithryel's long, dark hair cover her face and her torso. She stands just over 5 feet, with the slim body of a dancer. Her face and body mean that whenever she moves in a crowd, she inevitably attracts stares from men and women alike.
Clothes and Equipment: Erithryel wears a flowing cloth dress and elbow length gloves when she is in public or especially performing. The dress has a few enchantments to it that repel dirt and grim and generally prevent wear and tear. She also wears a leather collar around her neck, a reminder as her time as a slave forced to dance by a travelling band of Velthi. She carries her collection of instruments that include her tambourine and pipes as well as a drum that has a secret sleeve holding a dagger, along with one she keeps under her skirts.
Player's online availability : Evenings most days
Registered: Sept 18, 2017 15:39:17 GMT -8
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Post by Erithryel on Sept 19, 2017 20:58:26 GMT -8
Sir StigsErithryel doesn't really know what to make of the little man standing next to her. Not only is it uncommon for her to see someone smaller than herself, but his entire demeanor seemed a bit off, like he wasn't used to interacting with people. That was something she knew all too well, so maybe he was better for it. With an almost sad smile, she returned his wave. They both wait while the hussar contemplates the pair. Even though he said we were welcome, she can't help but think he will reject her if she asks too much of him.
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Kazimir Jankowski
Established
Roleplay posts: 17
Age: 30
Physical Description: An average man, standing at 6'0 and weighing 165 lbs. Kazimir has dark brown eyes that match his dark brown hair and beard.
**********
Clothes and Equipment: Noble set of Lidwo Hussar armor, a staple of the Liwdo military (see signature).
Kazimir also carries a szabla, or sabre, to be used on horseback. Like most Lidwo cavalrymen he wields a lance.
**********
Registered: Sept 17, 2017 3:52:45 GMT -8
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Post by Kazimir Jankowski on Sept 20, 2017 13:03:14 GMT -8
"No need to buy a mount," Kazimir would tell Erithryel, "I will let you use one of the hussar's horses. Anyone that you wish. Will that suffice?" Kazimir would not mind that she was Velthi; for one he had no idea what a Velthi was, but also because he was tolerant of other cultures, religions, and societies. The 20 year old lady would hear only a hospitable and friendly tone from Kazimir's voice. She struck him curious and perhaps he'd have more time to conversate with her later. The other fellow, Sir Stigs, was also an intriguing individual. Where had he come from? What lie beneath all of that armor? And why on earth would he not want a mount? Whatever the case Kazimir decided he would have ample time to get to know him on their trip. "Here," Kazimir would hand Erithryel a few coins - enough to buy some shoes should she want some. "Come and meet me by the hussar's quarters when you are ready. By the way, my name is Kazimir Jankowski." Kazimir would say his farewells and turn to head for the hussar's quarters. Six of the Jankowski Winged Hussars waited waited, one of them Krzysztof (his captain of the guard), all mounted and armored. Three other horses were nearby, one for each party member. Kazimir pulled himself up on his own horse and nestled his body into a comfortable riding position. He'd communicate with Krzysztof until Sir Stigs and Erithryel were ready to go. ( Erithryel ) ( Sir Stigs )
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Sir Stigs
Established
Roleplay posts: 12
Age: ?
Physical Description:
4' 11" ? lbs ? Hair ? Eyes
Sir Stigs is stout, iron-clad, head to toe in full plate with nigh an inch of exposure to the outside world. A majority of visage into the walking sentinel is from his narrowly open visor. Sir Stigs sees what is around him through this slightly curved, void black slit in the front of his helmet. Even those who are keen eyed struggle to make out any sort of eyes or form through the slit. In fact, they're not entirely sure there really is one true shape within. His armor appears to be worn from battling the elements, and perhaps other, more sentient forces. A red sash is tied about his waist, intricately knotted to hold a short sword tight to his left hip. He wears the pale, golden tan sigil of what appears to be a spearhead cutting through air upon his breastplate. The logo is rounded, mostly due to Sir Stig's tree trunk of a torso. And above all, much taller than he, is the pike that skims the clouds upon his back.
Clothes and Equipment:
Much the same as his physical description, as virtually nothing is exposed to the outside world.
Registered: Sept 18, 2017 16:35:32 GMT -8
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Post by Sir Stigs on Sept 20, 2017 14:31:30 GMT -8
Kazimir Jankowski Sir Stigs waddled behind the hussars, watching the hooves of their horses. Their heavy trot reminded him of his own weight. Though, they carried it so much differently. Four legs synchronously worked together to create a melody Sir Stigs would never be capable of. And that hypnotic sound, that clip-clop, how rhythmic. Their song with the stone swelled a calming energy within him. He enjoyed their choir for some time as they made their way through the streets of the capital. While watching the ground, he saw all sorts of colors and shapes: the red rooftops still in view, flashing neon colors of cloth being paraded, the brazen grays and smoky blacks caked onto hanging meats. He found peace within his stride. He even began to tap a mundane beat against his armored stomach, banging with his two index fingers. In an unknown moment of the song, they had reached the quarters. Before they had settled, Sir Stigs remembered Milords had mentioned a second, and even a third name: Kazimir Jankowski. How odd to have three names, Sir Stigs had only heard of those that might have two. He internally debated whether to refer to his new groupmate as Milords Kazimir Jankowski... Kazimir Milords Jankowski... Sir Stigs' head spun. He clasped his helmet tightly to stop it. He remained undecided. To dissuade his mind from the topic, Sir Stigs returned his attention to the gallant horses so musical. Three of no rider, three of empty saddle. He considered hopping on if but for a moment. No, he was no composer. And it wasn't his pony. His pony exactly, or nothing. He would wait, arms by his side and still, for a considerable pause of conversation between Kazimir and his captain to say his piece. He would not interrupt. Given the chance, he would speak. "I am ready." He would then point to the horses. "I will lead her if needed, but I will not ride."
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Erithryel
New
Roleplay posts: 5
Age: 20
Physical Description: Most of the time, Erithryel's long, dark hair cover her face and her torso. She stands just over 5 feet, with the slim body of a dancer. Her face and body mean that whenever she moves in a crowd, she inevitably attracts stares from men and women alike.
Clothes and Equipment: Erithryel wears a flowing cloth dress and elbow length gloves when she is in public or especially performing. The dress has a few enchantments to it that repel dirt and grim and generally prevent wear and tear. She also wears a leather collar around her neck, a reminder as her time as a slave forced to dance by a travelling band of Velthi. She carries her collection of instruments that include her tambourine and pipes as well as a drum that has a secret sleeve holding a dagger, along with one she keeps under her skirts.
Player's online availability : Evenings most days
Registered: Sept 18, 2017 15:39:17 GMT -8
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Post by Erithryel on Sept 20, 2017 14:54:20 GMT -8
As if not believing her fortune and fearing that the give might be retracted at any time, she rushed off towards the market. There, she's very careful to stock up on only the things she needed, particularly provisions for the journey and a pair of sandles. Thanks to her enchanted dress, she never really worried about being cold.
Her purchases complete, she returned to the hussar. Bowing low, she said,
"Thank you, mi'lord for the help. I am ready to depart whenever you are. I hope I will be able to repay your kindness during this journey."
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 17, 2024 2:57:56 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Sept 23, 2017 5:37:49 GMT -8
A new face, a new kingdom. Considering that he'd been run off from a land bridge before ever arriving to one location, and then finding little to no actual encounters in the place called Isra - Adamar was hoping to find something more within this new territory. A gentle hand rest on the neck of the Shire tugging along a worn, wooden cart as the two continued to walk along. What was to be found here?
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Post by Tripartite Kingdom of Lidwo on Sept 24, 2017 14:54:29 GMT -8
@amadeus
The hulking scholar that was to go with Amadeus dismissed most of his security. It wouldn’t do to have so many men coming in, even if they could be promptly dealt with. Sergei opened the big double doors completely and let them marvel at “politics,” or bearded men hitting each other with scrolls and throwing inkwells, screaming, and a depressed mediator sitting in his booth with tired red eyes. After letting Amadeus and his mercenary marvel for a bit, he lead them down an ornate corridor with paintings of the rare few members of the parliament who actually did something useful. It was of course pure coincidence that these men typically died under mysterious circumstances after doing these works.
When they reached a certain room Sergei stopped, looked around and rattled the handle of the door. It was locked. Quite the impediment if you want to get in. He looked at Amadeus and helplessly said “Locked.”
@adamarwysaren
As Adamar walked along there wouldn’t be much in the land, a walking family had a child point at the ears before father slapped the hand and told his daughter to be polite. Eventually however, he’d see a few horses going by as fast as possible with the men wearing masks, not caring if anything got in their way. Behind them would be a single Winged Hussar riding fast, he’d raise two of his hand crossbows and fire taking one man alive and another badly injured with the bolt passing right through as fell, and then hopped off away. While the soldier was reloading one of the miscreants lifted a large crossbow of his own and fired at the Hussar with his own weapon. The man fell off the horse as the bolt went into his gut. He’d fall right beside Adamar, and with the bolt still in him would try to crawl towards the men. Eventually however, he’d hit the ground with his face and wheeze a little in a small pool of his own blood.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 17, 2024 2:57:56 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Sept 24, 2017 21:38:11 GMT -8
He found it enlightening to meet the traveling family - and the child only made him smile. He was quick to assure the man that he took no offense and that he didn't mind, as children were very open in their inquiries. He was used to it... and even wiggled his pointed ears with a silly smile on his face just to try and make the little girl giggle before they continued on their way and he upon his own.
The masked riders made him a little leery, and an urgent tug on the Shire's bridle helped pull her a little ways off the road to avoid their path. What was going on? He watched them storm by, and then his head whipped around to see the one rider of a different caliber tearing after them - and opening fire with two smaller crossbow units.
He'd just happened upon an encounter of possibly a soldier and ill men. And I thought I was coming into retirement, he thought.
The action was swift, and before he could make a motion to do anything about it the Winged Hussar was knocked clean from his horse with a heavier bolt in his gut. Urgency surged Adamar and he scrambled to the fallen warrior's side - more worried about his life than his die-hard pursuit of the vagabonds. They weren't worth his life. His first concern was trying to stop his bleeding... and determine whether removal of the bolt was wise.
That is, if the masked men didn't return to finish the job. If they sought to turn about and come back, Adamar was prepared to stand over the man and try to persuade them to leave and spare them both.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 17, 2024 2:57:56 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Sept 25, 2017 10:13:27 GMT -8
Amadeus didn't expect to be greeted with such a sight. Wise men were screaming at each other, hitting one another and throwing inkwells around. It was total chaos. No wonder other Kingdoms didn't employ "sejms". This system originated from Lidwo and made bad impression on Amadeus, as it probably did on other people. On the wall hanged portraits of the most outstanding parliamentary deputies, most likely assassinated. This screamed one word: corruption! He was led by Sergei to a room he didn't recognize. Perhaps those were Andriev's chambers. Unfortunately, the door was locked. "Then I assume, Sergei, that you know how to pick locks? Or maybe you know another way in?" He glared at Nehmed with a slight grin. "We could always ask my friend here to force the door open, if it can go unnoticed."
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Post by Tripartite Kingdom of Lidwo on Sept 30, 2017 7:35:22 GMT -8
The Hussar turned to @adamarwysaren and harked out a bit of blood before pointing to the fleeing men, but then his hand feel and he groaned a little. If Adamar tried to pull on the bolt, he'd find that it had a slightly twisted shape on the tip, a bolt for murder. If he was an apothecary until now or was otherwise extremely experienced in such matters he could remove it, but otherwise he'd need aid from a professional. However, Adamar's fears were somewhat proven right as one of the fleeing men who wasn't injured rode back, and would return and stay on the periphery of vision of the elf, hoping he'd let his guard down for a moment or so.
@amadeus would have the giant before him look crestfallen and shake his head. "We need to get keys from Andriev, find him and steal them since none of us can pick lock." He stopped to think for a moment and then slowly brightened up. "It's too sturdy to break open, will have to smash. But we can stick knife in wall, make it look like assassination attempt. That will be suspicious but better than looking like someone was looking around for dirt. Nobody will think of us. But if we got caught... much worse."
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 17, 2024 2:57:56 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Oct 2, 2017 1:29:08 GMT -8
It was just as he was afraid of - he couldn't just take it out. This man was going to die if he didn't get him to help soon. But even worse was the fact that one came back, probably to ensure that the warrior didn't rise from the ground.
And his weapons and armor were tucked away out of sight in the cart. What could he do here?
He turned his head and watched the horseman as he circled, and lifted a hand with palm out - a gesture of not wanting to fight. But when he opened his mouth, a string of incomprehensible words came spilling out. It was an ancient tongue, somewhere from an Elf-kin easily but from which one was uncertain. But he continued to ramble in this speech, gesturing where he could. His hands came together once as if begging or praying for a moment. He gestured up either end of the road, and once to the man's horse. He pointed at the sky. He waved his hand at the wounded warrior.
With any luck, this might have the effect he was looking for. He just hoped the masked man would drop his guard enough and attempt to shoo him off like he was a lunatic - or just think he was stupid. That was always an upside to his heritage.
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Post by Tripartite Kingdom of Lidwo on Oct 7, 2017 13:27:52 GMT -8
The man kept on going around on his horse and went slightly slower at the 'gibbering.' He was confused, but kept his guard in partial composure. Looking at Adamar he pointed away and screamed "Go home!" in relatively good common. He was clearly going to stay, for he wanted to finish off the wounded civil servant but this elf didn't seem to be a threat. He waved both of his hands to the right and kept saying "Go home, leave!" and such things like that, so that he wouldn't be obstructed on the path to ending the Hussar.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 17, 2024 2:57:56 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Oct 7, 2017 22:51:08 GMT -8
Tripartite Kingdom of LidwoSilently he was relieved that it was working somewhat - the guy was likely to become more annoyed as Adamar continued. So he would, long enough to try and get a little closer. He just needed to be close enough to settled a hand on the neck of his mount. If it could... it would only take a second for the Elf to latch his palm at the mane and kick up from the ground to try and knock the masked man with both boot soles aimed for his chest and head in a single swoop - which would carry them both off the back of the animal on the other side from where he started. He just hoped the man wasn't as quick a fighter as himself.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 17, 2024 2:57:56 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Oct 7, 2017 23:49:45 GMT -8
Tripartite Kingdom of Lidwo The noble put his hand on the tall man's shoulder. "What's the worst that could happen?" Smiling, and not waiting for an answer, he added "Whatever it is, I'm sure we can talk our way out." He nodded towards his warrior "Try to smash the door, and try to keep it quiet. Looking at Sergei again, he said "I will talk to the deputies. Maybe I can divert their attention. Not that it isn't 'diverted' already." He chuckled.
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Post by Tripartite Kingdom of Lidwo on Oct 11, 2017 7:08:40 GMT -8
The move of @adamarwysaren was unexpected to say the least. The man wasn't anand most certainly not a professional fighter, but a quick and bloody dirty one. It was thus an obvious answer to him to grab the elf's right leg and bite his calf as hard as he possibly could; if whatever clothed his legs was thin then he would squeeze tighter with his teeth before pulling his mouth back. Meanwhile if the clothing was thicker he'd release the bite rather quickly since the pain would be only a mild shock while wasting his time and not getting real damage done. Whatever happened, the horse was a cheap screw and would bolt kicking up dust and mud on both the men, including the miscreant's eyes to make him recoil and momentarily rub them. Instinctively however, he'd try to crawl backwards to his dropped blade so he could gut Adamar and the soldier.
Elsewhere, Sergei nodded happily to @amadeus before giving the door a light push which would from the lack of strain on the giant appear effortless. Yet the thing came right off of it's hinges and broke at several points. He entered quickly and starting looking through tables, and stuffing every other paper into his robes. "Nothing, nothing, useful, nothing, these two could be good...." he'd mutter, while looking throughout. The big man would pull a handle in the table and it would be stuck. He'd pull again, again, and once more before a side of the table cracked and fell to the side revealing that it was in fact all a means of hiding a safe. Jackpot.
As Sergei started to pull on it, the progress of getting it out was slow. While he did so, three men would go down the hallway all speaking to each other, arguing but cheerfully. Trouble was, they were headed right on-course for Amadeus and his co-conspirators. What to do, what to do....
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 17, 2024 2:57:56 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Oct 11, 2017 12:41:01 GMT -8
Nehmed was preparing his weapon when Sergei simply broke the door with a push. Nehmed raised a brow, but said nothing. He stood guard and watched over Sergei's progress. As Amadeus was about to go talk to the politicians, he immediately noticed the three men approaching in the general direction of his comrades. "Greetings, my friends!" He obstructed the corridor to stop them from continuing onwards. "Might I have the pleasure of knowing what were the three of you arguing about?" He said with a gentle, charismatic smile.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 17, 2024 2:57:56 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Oct 11, 2017 21:19:40 GMT -8
Tripartite Kingdom of LidwoAdamar was glad to at least get the man down on his level in the dirt, but that hard bite on his calf made him grunt with his teeth grit - despite the fact that the masked man was biting into firm muscle through the simple trousers, it still hurt! The horse's panic was a bit annoying, kicking up dust to make him squeeze his eyes shut against it. Blasted thing - more probable reason for this to be just a bandit or some two-bit attacker of sorts. But his ears twitched when he heard the man shuffling across the dirt, and he was scrambling after him too - more so while trying to get to his feet in the process. If he could get upright before the bandit could get a hand on his sword, he would have just a chance to lash a boot down atop his head in an attempt to stop him - knock him out if he was lucky. Despite old instincts to put him down in one fell swoop from his past art... something told him this man would mean more alive than dead, what with the group that fled.
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Post by Tripartite Kingdom of Lidwo on Oct 20, 2017 10:13:16 GMT -8
@amadeus would have the three men look curiously at him, before one of them shrugged, and muttering a word which in the local tongue meant "foreign idiot." Then he suddenly smiled and put his hands aside in a sort of introductory gesture. "We were discussing my foreign friend whether or not the government should have heavy funding for bridge building in the near future. You see, bridges are useful, good tourists can come, but at the same time it costs a lot to make them and... nasty things can use them together with the good. It's a tough issue, no?" He said, walking along and putting his hand around the foreigner's shoulders. He wasn't walking fast, and only taking a step every so often, yet slowly but surely they were going on to the door....
Elsewhere, the bandit was crawling back to the blade, but he got a mouthful of foot sending his teeth along a wave of blood through the air. Though he screamed, there was a moderately fast recovery. With the kick he only got a little closer to the blade which he grabbed, and sent in a diagonal swing. Most likely @adamarwysaren couldn't jump over it or duck, but he could possibly recoil which is exactly what the man wanted. Breathing space was exactly what he needed.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 17, 2024 2:57:56 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Oct 25, 2017 16:36:35 GMT -8
Indeed, he wasn't about to attempt to get around the sword that was in motion from this angle. That would put him at risk for serious injury - and he was merely retired, not stupid. Or dead.
What more could he do? Headed for his cart for his bow would put the warrior at risk of being attacked. So... he merely backed up to ensure he stood between the bastard tasting blood and the injured man.
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