Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 21, 2024 4:01:52 GMT -8
|
Post by Deleted on Sept 14, 2015 15:27:20 GMT -8
Wendy turned back to Raena, pointing to Roxanne as she entered the stall.
"Should we....try and....you know..." She said, thinking about to when she attacked the potion keeper.
|
|
Undercity
Established
Roleplay posts: 18 
Player's online availability : Lol.
Registered: Sept 10, 2015 17:10:37 GMT -8
|
Post by Undercity on Sept 14, 2015 15:38:16 GMT -8
The man would stand into Roxanne's way as soon as she tried to enter.
"Excuse me miss, but unless you have an appointment with the boss I am going to have to ask you to leave."
The line was delivered ironically with a sneer. The viking woman just screamed surface, as for her companions...
"And what the fuck is a Praetor doing down here? At least try to hide yourself. Insulting, really."
The giant of a man shook his head back and forth. His last line was delivered with a wink.
"The chick with the flamberge and the drow can come in though. I can dig your style."
|
|
Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 21, 2024 4:01:52 GMT -8
|
Post by Deleted on Sept 14, 2015 15:46:01 GMT -8
Wendy leered at Roxanne and smugly grinned, walking backwards into the building so Roxanne could see it.
|
|
Roxanne Fletcher
Main Character
Roleplay posts: 816 
Age: 22
Physical Description: Roxanne is tall with white hair and a narrow, athletic build. She has a pleasant face and only a couple of scars.
Clothes and Equipment: Heavy armor, Elven bow (stolen), and a longsword.
Player's online availability : Early mornings and late evenings
Registered: Aug 2, 2015 8:58:10 GMT -8
|
Post by Roxanne Fletcher on Sept 14, 2015 16:33:56 GMT -8
Roxanne glares at the drow and turns back to the bouncer.
"Come on, I don't want this to get ugly. What's in there, anyway? What sort of business is it?"
|
|
Raena Fletcher
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 152
Age: 26
Physical Description: Standing at a height of six feet one inch, Raena Fletcher is a tall, very well-built young woman. Her skin is fairly pale, yet has a slight lively glow, and she has pale blue eyes that speak of a world weariness far beyond her age. Her snow white hair is always cut at about shoulder-length, silky and flowing and always well-kept despite her otherwise Spartan nature. She has full, though never painted lips, hardly ever seeming to turn up in a smile anymore. She has a long, deep scar running up from the bottom of her left jawline to the middle of her left cheek, marring her otherwise unblemished skin. Beneath her right eye, a tattoo in the shape of a fleur de lis has been inked. It looks almost ritual in nature, but its origins are as yet unknown.
================================
Clothes and Equipment: Over her travels, Raena has collected many pieces of heavy armour from her fallen foes and allies alike, melting it down and reforging it into a suit of plate maille unique to her and incredibly sturdy and heavy. The suit is stained forest green with bronze trim, a design embezzled in bronze on both pauldrons, one of a fleur de lis and the other a diving raven. Her bronze gorget has been shaped into the shape of a skull. In addition, a tattered orange-brown cloak wraps around her figure, obscuring her form in battle as well as adding an element of humility to her otherwise splendid armour. She does not tend to wear a helmet into battle, preferring the widest field of view as she can get.
As for armament, she tends to use a heavy enchanted two-handed flamberge sheathed upon her back as her primary weapon, with a short gladius and buckler as a backup. Finally, she carries a set of throwing knives within her cloak, and she's fairly proficient at aiming with them.
Outside of battle, she tends to wear simple linen clothing, preferring function and comfort over form. She hardly ever wears shoes outside her armour, either, having developed well-callused and strong feet to match her hands as a result.
Registered: Sept 7, 2015 16:22:46 GMT -8
|
Post by Raena Fletcher on Sept 14, 2015 16:58:20 GMT -8
"Roxanne, stay out here, and do not kill anyone or cause us undue attention. I will come back unscathed, do not worry. I have dealt with worse than a shady Undercity den," Raena murmurs aside to her cousin, before nodding to the bouncer with a touch of a smile. "Much appreciated," she states, before she follows Wendy's lead and enters the den. She looks around, taking in the sights. It would seem as if that mole claw sigil means something; many of the people within wear it somewhere upon their skin, always somewhere visible. She wonders at its significance.
Putting thoughts of curiosity out of her mind for now, she focuses on the mission, her eyes turning back to Wendy as she puts a hand on the Drow's shoulder and says, softly so as to hide her words from anyone else. "We need to keep our heads down. I am certain asking for information regarding this scum is garnering enough attention as it is; we need to act as naturally as possible," she cautions.
|
|
Undercity
Established
Roleplay posts: 18
Player's online availability : Lol.
Registered: Sept 10, 2015 17:10:37 GMT -8
|
Post by Undercity on Sept 14, 2015 17:06:19 GMT -8
"Calm yourself lady. I wouldn't want to put another body in the sewer. The last one still hasn't been cleaned out. And come on, how new are you here?"
The man laughed, heartily. A brutal looking mace was in his right hand. When had he drawn it?
"This is Raol's place. You know, the syndicate head. He's the fourth council member, leader of The Dwellers. Big news, basically. In other words. A drug den."
As Wendy entered the room, she would be greeted by a thin man covered in tattoos. Across his face were the words. "Try me.", with an attacked winky face. On his left cheek was a mole-claw tattoo. He looked remarkably happy.
"Helloooooo Missssss! Wanna TRY SoMeeeee? *Wink*. WELCOME TO THE CRYSTAL PALACE, AHAHAHAHA."
He did a dramatic little twirl, falling down onto a plush looking cushion. The floor was covered in them, along with people in various stages of drug-inflicted euphoria. He tried rising again, but fell. Giggling, stooped to one knee in front of Wendy as a compromise.
"Would YOU?"
In his hand was a remarkably unhygienic looking needle. The tip was rusted a bit, and the whole thing looked wide enough to be used as a decent weapon. Inside was a goopy green and yellow slurry with bubbles floating in it. Across the bar a few men relaxed upright on padded benches, smoking cigars of some kind. They were gathered around one man: an obese asianic male human with a long braided mustache and bushy eyebrows.
|
|
Roxanne Fletcher
Main Character
Roleplay posts: 816
Age: 22
Physical Description: Roxanne is tall with white hair and a narrow, athletic build. She has a pleasant face and only a couple of scars.
Clothes and Equipment: Heavy armor, Elven bow (stolen), and a longsword.
Player's online availability : Early mornings and late evenings
Registered: Aug 2, 2015 8:58:10 GMT -8
|
Post by Roxanne Fletcher on Sept 14, 2015 17:21:08 GMT -8
"Hmmph. Say, where would I find Banter? I wanna do business with him. I'm looking for someone, and I'm willing to pay for info leading to his capture or execution."
Roxanne sits down on a crate and waits for her cousin and the drow to come out.
|
|
Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 21, 2024 4:01:52 GMT -8
|
Post by Deleted on Sept 14, 2015 17:30:29 GMT -8
Wendamari looked around at the room before saying anything, a look of confusion on her face.
"Uh....Not right now...." She said, worried to set the man off somehow.
|
|
Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 21, 2024 4:01:52 GMT -8
|
Post by Deleted on Sept 14, 2015 17:30:43 GMT -8
Takans responded, "It meant to be an insult. A noble was killed andthe murderer fled to these sewers. You harboring him breaks the agreements the king has made us Praetors honnor by not flushing these sewers out. I DEMAND TO SEE THE RAT KING NOW! AND DON'T ACT LIKE YOU CAN'T CONTACT HIM! The King has told me plenty about how this shit hole functions. I know he knows I'm here and WHY!" Normally calm and collect the Praetor had lost his cool. The Undercity was the opposite of everything Raynold beleived to be Aaedan. A member of his family was killed and the murder has hid away in this place. The stresses of the situation, were foreign to the man who lived on the battlefield. If he had his way the Legion under his command would clean this place out and bar up every entrance allowing only matainence crews to enter the wretched holes that the people here lived in.
|
|
Raena Fletcher
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 152
Age: 26
Physical Description: Standing at a height of six feet one inch, Raena Fletcher is a tall, very well-built young woman. Her skin is fairly pale, yet has a slight lively glow, and she has pale blue eyes that speak of a world weariness far beyond her age. Her snow white hair is always cut at about shoulder-length, silky and flowing and always well-kept despite her otherwise Spartan nature. She has full, though never painted lips, hardly ever seeming to turn up in a smile anymore. She has a long, deep scar running up from the bottom of her left jawline to the middle of her left cheek, marring her otherwise unblemished skin. Beneath her right eye, a tattoo in the shape of a fleur de lis has been inked. It looks almost ritual in nature, but its origins are as yet unknown.
================================
Clothes and Equipment: Over her travels, Raena has collected many pieces of heavy armour from her fallen foes and allies alike, melting it down and reforging it into a suit of plate maille unique to her and incredibly sturdy and heavy. The suit is stained forest green with bronze trim, a design embezzled in bronze on both pauldrons, one of a fleur de lis and the other a diving raven. Her bronze gorget has been shaped into the shape of a skull. In addition, a tattered orange-brown cloak wraps around her figure, obscuring her form in battle as well as adding an element of humility to her otherwise splendid armour. She does not tend to wear a helmet into battle, preferring the widest field of view as she can get.
As for armament, she tends to use a heavy enchanted two-handed flamberge sheathed upon her back as her primary weapon, with a short gladius and buckler as a backup. Finally, she carries a set of throwing knives within her cloak, and she's fairly proficient at aiming with them.
Outside of battle, she tends to wear simple linen clothing, preferring function and comfort over form. She hardly ever wears shoes outside her armour, either, having developed well-callused and strong feet to match her hands as a result.
Registered: Sept 7, 2015 16:22:46 GMT -8
|
Post by Raena Fletcher on Sept 14, 2015 17:34:54 GMT -8
Raena steps in front of Wendy and spreads her stance, blocking the smaller woman entirely with her own large figure. Luckily, the man's needle won't be able to pierce her armour; even her throat is covered by the skull-shaped gorget. "Step. Back," she growls, a very threatening tone to her voice as she brushes aside her cloak, revealing the sheathed gladius, her hand upon its hilt, ready to strike at a moment's notice.
|
|
Undercity
Established
Roleplay posts: 18
Player's online availability : Lol.
Registered: Sept 10, 2015 17:10:37 GMT -8
|
Post by Undercity on Sept 14, 2015 17:50:45 GMT -8
A pin could drop in the room, and no one could hear it after the Praetor's outburst. It is hard to judge how one should react.
Thoughts would filter through the patron's minds:
Who was this idiot!
Is that a bloody Praetor?
Is this a joke?
Man that cushion looks like a cloud made of love and dreams.
Holy shit this guy. Incredible.
It was the druggie who broke the silence.
"HAHAHAHAHA WHAT THE SHIT. DUDE WHAT. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"
He fell over, dropping the needle onto the floor. He has utterly ignored Raena's confrontation.
A slowclap began, the patrons grinning. They thought it was a joke.
Raol put on his most serious face.
"Sir, my apologies. Step into my back office. Jezik, fetch this man a drink. Not the slosh, the good stuff we got from-"
He gave a wink to the man.
"Our benefactors in the city above."
Outside, the bouncer stepped aside to let the Praetor in. After the man has gone in he would motion over to Roxanne.
"I've changed my mind. You and the comedian can come in any time."
|
|
Roxanne Fletcher
Main Character
Roleplay posts: 816
Age: 22
Physical Description: Roxanne is tall with white hair and a narrow, athletic build. She has a pleasant face and only a couple of scars.
Clothes and Equipment: Heavy armor, Elven bow (stolen), and a longsword.
Player's online availability : Early mornings and late evenings
Registered: Aug 2, 2015 8:58:10 GMT -8
|
Post by Roxanne Fletcher on Sept 14, 2015 17:54:51 GMT -8
"Hmmph."
Roxy walks in, through the door, and coughs from the smell of the drugs.
"Ugh...I never got into this slop. Too hard, too dirty."
She leans away from a druggie with distaste. She walks up to Wendy with a smug look on her face.
"Oh, hi there. Fancy seeing you here."
|
|
Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 21, 2024 4:01:52 GMT -8
|
Post by Deleted on Sept 14, 2015 17:59:20 GMT -8
"I'm surprised you didn't get in before. I figured you'd come here all the time." Wendy snarked just as quickly.
|
|
Raena Fletcher
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 152
Age: 26
Physical Description: Standing at a height of six feet one inch, Raena Fletcher is a tall, very well-built young woman. Her skin is fairly pale, yet has a slight lively glow, and she has pale blue eyes that speak of a world weariness far beyond her age. Her snow white hair is always cut at about shoulder-length, silky and flowing and always well-kept despite her otherwise Spartan nature. She has full, though never painted lips, hardly ever seeming to turn up in a smile anymore. She has a long, deep scar running up from the bottom of her left jawline to the middle of her left cheek, marring her otherwise unblemished skin. Beneath her right eye, a tattoo in the shape of a fleur de lis has been inked. It looks almost ritual in nature, but its origins are as yet unknown.
================================
Clothes and Equipment: Over her travels, Raena has collected many pieces of heavy armour from her fallen foes and allies alike, melting it down and reforging it into a suit of plate maille unique to her and incredibly sturdy and heavy. The suit is stained forest green with bronze trim, a design embezzled in bronze on both pauldrons, one of a fleur de lis and the other a diving raven. Her bronze gorget has been shaped into the shape of a skull. In addition, a tattered orange-brown cloak wraps around her figure, obscuring her form in battle as well as adding an element of humility to her otherwise splendid armour. She does not tend to wear a helmet into battle, preferring the widest field of view as she can get.
As for armament, she tends to use a heavy enchanted two-handed flamberge sheathed upon her back as her primary weapon, with a short gladius and buckler as a backup. Finally, she carries a set of throwing knives within her cloak, and she's fairly proficient at aiming with them.
Outside of battle, she tends to wear simple linen clothing, preferring function and comfort over form. She hardly ever wears shoes outside her armour, either, having developed well-callused and strong feet to match her hands as a result.
Registered: Sept 7, 2015 16:22:46 GMT -8
|
Post by Raena Fletcher on Sept 14, 2015 18:01:34 GMT -8
Raena turns around to face the two, glaring them both down. "Focus on the objective, not your personal squabbles," she urges, sounding more like an order than a suggestion. For now, however, she is simply happy the other two were able to make it inside without bloodshed. She would hate to have this contract botched immediately after it started.
|
|
Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 21, 2024 4:01:52 GMT -8
|
Post by Deleted on Sept 14, 2015 18:11:27 GMT -8
Raynold expected this actually. He knew the poor souls on drugs would think it a joke and the others were too stupid to realize the truth of the King allowing them to live in the sewers. He entered and proceded to enter the office he was invited to. He would refuse the drink however.
|
|
Undercity
Established
Roleplay posts: 18
Player's online availability : Lol.
Registered: Sept 10, 2015 17:10:37 GMT -8
|
Post by Undercity on Sept 14, 2015 18:25:55 GMT -8
The backroom would be opened to the Praetor, and anyone who he allowed to accompany him. The fat ronin took a seat on a carved oak chair that was likely once the personal throne of some lordling. It served a different purpose now. Like the club the backroom was a vibrant, bright mess of a place. Curtains in bright orange and green had been hung from the ceiling, hiding the bare stone behind. The carpet was remarkably intricate- it belonged in the halls of a duke, not some vagabond! Broken mirrors had been left leaning on the walls. The whole place was a pale simulacrum of noble luxury, some would say a mockery.
"So, you want an audience with the Rat King? About some murderer? Well, you happen to be VERY lucky. The Rat King doesn't do demanded audiences. But apparently he liked what he saw back there, and has agreed to meet with you on the third level if you agree to abandon your weapons with us. You can have them sent up by a courier if you wish, or collect them here once you surface. Up to you entirely. Since you are a guest, we promise no ill will come to them, and that any man who attempts to steal or otherwise compromise them will be dealt with according to The King's Justice."
Oddly absent was referral to which king Raol was referring to.
|
|
Roxanne Fletcher
Main Character
Roleplay posts: 816
Age: 22
Physical Description: Roxanne is tall with white hair and a narrow, athletic build. She has a pleasant face and only a couple of scars.
Clothes and Equipment: Heavy armor, Elven bow (stolen), and a longsword.
Player's online availability : Early mornings and late evenings
Registered: Aug 2, 2015 8:58:10 GMT -8
|
Post by Roxanne Fletcher on Sept 14, 2015 18:44:39 GMT -8
Roxanne nods.
"Fair enough."
She unbuckles her sword and bow and puts them down. She can handle herself just fine without them, and she never gets too attached to her weapons. One sword is as sharp as another.
"Now, which way is the third level?"
|
|
Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 21, 2024 4:01:52 GMT -8
|
Post by Deleted on Sept 14, 2015 18:49:57 GMT -8
Raynold squinted his eyes at the man through his helm. He unseathed his sword. For a moment he seemed to be dreaming of killing the man. He offered it to the man. Raynold had to swallow alot of pride to do this. "If I don't get this back, or I find it damaged, or find what you return to be a fake. Regardless of the Jorech's wishes, The Sword of Aaedan will burn these sewers out and kill everyone we can." After the man would take his blade he would draw a dagger and offer it with much less resistance. Little did they know however where the hidden blades built into his custom armor. With a motion he could bring the blades out. In his mind he considered them armor. Against any trickery that may unfold.
OOC) the "Sword of Aaedan" is a nickname for the Legion under Raynold's command.
|
|
Raena Fletcher
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 152
Age: 26
Physical Description: Standing at a height of six feet one inch, Raena Fletcher is a tall, very well-built young woman. Her skin is fairly pale, yet has a slight lively glow, and she has pale blue eyes that speak of a world weariness far beyond her age. Her snow white hair is always cut at about shoulder-length, silky and flowing and always well-kept despite her otherwise Spartan nature. She has full, though never painted lips, hardly ever seeming to turn up in a smile anymore. She has a long, deep scar running up from the bottom of her left jawline to the middle of her left cheek, marring her otherwise unblemished skin. Beneath her right eye, a tattoo in the shape of a fleur de lis has been inked. It looks almost ritual in nature, but its origins are as yet unknown.
================================
Clothes and Equipment: Over her travels, Raena has collected many pieces of heavy armour from her fallen foes and allies alike, melting it down and reforging it into a suit of plate maille unique to her and incredibly sturdy and heavy. The suit is stained forest green with bronze trim, a design embezzled in bronze on both pauldrons, one of a fleur de lis and the other a diving raven. Her bronze gorget has been shaped into the shape of a skull. In addition, a tattered orange-brown cloak wraps around her figure, obscuring her form in battle as well as adding an element of humility to her otherwise splendid armour. She does not tend to wear a helmet into battle, preferring the widest field of view as she can get.
As for armament, she tends to use a heavy enchanted two-handed flamberge sheathed upon her back as her primary weapon, with a short gladius and buckler as a backup. Finally, she carries a set of throwing knives within her cloak, and she's fairly proficient at aiming with them.
Outside of battle, she tends to wear simple linen clothing, preferring function and comfort over form. She hardly ever wears shoes outside her armour, either, having developed well-callused and strong feet to match her hands as a result.
Registered: Sept 7, 2015 16:22:46 GMT -8
|
Post by Raena Fletcher on Sept 14, 2015 18:53:17 GMT -8
Raena follows the Praetor in, looking about at the perversion of wealth with a flat expression. Within, she's absolutely disgusted at the "king's" greed, but she figures it's best to keep that under wraps. She stands with her arms behind her back as she listens to the syndicate boss' spiel. At the part about sacrificing her weapons, she mutters something under her breath. "Hlajeky ty o zofpsiolu ef qwepw sa weky swos qwepw tizs xy wekkyf," she murmurs, just low enough to be unheard. With a jolt of chest pain, to which she flinches noticeably, her gladius is engulfed in a pocket of Void, silently spirited away beneath her cloak.
After the Praetor sacrifices her weapons, Raena's up next, unbuckling the scabbard of her massive falchion and placing it on the table, before removing the throwing knives from her cloak and placing each one in a row, several dozen in all, then the buckler presumably meant to pair with them, and then reaching down into each greave and pulling two long, curved survival knives from their depths. Then, she removes her cloak and places it upon the table as well, to prove she conceals nothing else. It would seem that, on the surface, she's clean. "I share my cousin's curiosity," she states. "Which way do we go?" |
|
Undercity
Established
Roleplay posts: 18
Player's online availability : Lol.
Registered: Sept 10, 2015 17:10:37 GMT -8
|
Post by Undercity on Sept 14, 2015 19:03:33 GMT -8
Raol looked incredulous that the praetor had not taken off his armor. To those who had entered the room, one of Raol's guards would gesture to a ladder in the corner of the room.
"Down there."
Next to the ladder was a hatch that opened up into the floor. The associate trotted over, unlocking the hatch with an oversized iron key. The ladder would be lowered in next, fitting snugly.
Raol would reach over, grabbing an ornamental candle lamp off off the metal-sheet desk. The atrocity was chromed and bedazzled in an uproarious fashion. Passing it to Praetor, he would exclaim, "enjoy yourselves."
Once everyone had entered the door would close from above, followed by the click of a lock.
The ladder ended in a hallway. By the dim candlelight of the lantern the place was eerie and claustrophobic. The flooring was actually reasonably nice here, as well as the walls. Clean, sober and dreary. The Praetor would recognize it immediately. Catacombs. Had the Rat king sealed off part of the White City's catacombs, or had his vermin always crept about here? Kings were buried here. Nobles. Praetors. The group would quickly come to a junction, and then another. The place was a maze.
|
|
