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Post by pancakes on Jun 29, 2009 23:02:33 GMT -5
Hattie skilfully manoeuvred her way through the crowded streets, humming cheerfully. Whenever a trip to the marketplace was required -especially at the busiest time of day- her father always sent her, as she had long ago mastered the area. Like an improvised dance, Hattie swiftly sidestepped a large, harried looking man, and then twirled out of the path of two errant children running from their mother. Smiling as she observed all the different people going about their day-to-day business, Hattie wondered how she would look to an outsider.
Probably like a girl who needs to get her head out of the clouds, if I asked Mom, she thought, suppressing a snort of laughter. After all, if Mom knew I was taking the long route just to people-watch, she’d surely yell at me to get my head back on earth and get to the job I was told to do.
This thought made her cheerfulness sober up, and she quickly went in the direction of the blacksmith’s, where she was to pick up some mended tools for her father. Winding her way between busy streets and back alleys, Hattie finally had the blacksmith’s street in view. Increasing her speed, she finally reached the road, and whipped around the corner. With a yelp of surprise Hattie got knocked backwards as she ran into something very solid. Slightly stunned from the fall, she looked up from her spot on the ground and realized it was actually a person she had run into.
"I’m so sorry about that! I-I didn’t expect somethi- err, someone to be there!” Hattie stammered, blushing furiously. “Well, I guess that’s obvious, or else I wouldn’t have run into you…” Hattie trailed off, her blush deepening as she realized how dumb she sounded. Inwardly cringing, she nervously peered up at the stranger, trying to decipher if they were angry.
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Shaher
New Roleplayer
Fallen
Posts: 37
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Post by Shaher on Jul 2, 2009 3:17:30 GMT -5
Shaher took a stumbled step to the side as something small and fast ran headlong into him. He had been making his way to the blacksmith for repairs when he had suddenly been assaulted by this...small girl human. "You'd do well to mind your step, child. Worse things then death await the unwary on this blood-stained ground, and you may just be looking at him" Shaher said to the girl once her fruitless stammering had ended. He gave the girl a glare and continued his short walk to the blacksmith so that his shattered blade might be repaired.
Inside, he struck up a deal with the burly man standing by a forge. "Simple task, even for you, good sir. See the metal, its cracked. You fix it, many moneys" he said in a childish, mocking voice. The man did not respond, rather snatching up the weapon with a snarl before taking it to a large bench to examine the extent of the damage. Shaher waited where he stood for the man to return, he'd need to know how much it would cost before he could go out mugging. Didn't want to return with less coinage then was needed. The endless drone of voice from outside played on his ears as his senses picked up the slight steps of a female entering the building.
Tag Hattie
{OOC: ^^ Hello!}
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Post by pancakes on Jul 3, 2009 7:07:07 GMT -5
Shakily getting to her feet, Hattie stared at the dark-haired man in disbelief and slight fear. Before she could say anything back (not that she was sure what to say to that), the stranger was on the move again. Much to her dismay, he went straight into the blacksmith’s, leaving her to racing thoughts. Oh no, now what do I do? I can’t just not pick up Father’s tools, but I really don’t want to be near that man. Threatening me for bumping into him, honestly! Or was it a threat? It was kind of warning-y I suppose…in a “do this again and I’ll kill you” kind of way…no, I shouldn’t think like that! He was just simply warning me to watch my step in a dramatic way.
For obvious reasons this mental-reassurance did very little to make her feel better. Hattie determinedly walked up to the blacksmith’s door before pausing outside to try and steady her nerves. She felt her palms grow hot, and took many deep breaths before she calmed enough for her palms to return to normal temperature. The idea of setting the blacksmith’s shop on fire just because she was nervous caused her to forcefully calm down and walk into the building, where she immediately spotted the man. Determinedly looking anywhere but at the man, Hattie was disappointed to see that the blacksmith was at work with what she presumed to be the stranger’s weapon. Not wanting to interrupt while the blacksmith was focused on his work, Hattie was left standing awkwardly and rather unsure of what to do.
((Hello! Thank you for responding! n_n))
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Shaher
New Roleplayer
Fallen
Posts: 37
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Post by Shaher on Jul 3, 2009 23:51:09 GMT -5
Shaher scowled inwardly, the girl had business here too. He could smell fear in the air which gave him some satisfaction and her determination not to show it almost caused a smile to creep across his face. Nevertheless he stood solemly in place while the blacksmith examined his blade. With a frown, the man returned. "I don't know what you did to this but it's destroyed. I can show you a fair range of new weapo..." the man began before SHaher reached across the bench and grabbed him by the scruff og his neck, drawing him into the air, the mans limbs flailing uselessly. "Listen very carefully as I'll say this once. You will fix the sword, no questions, no excuses. I do not want any of your petty human merchandise made my a drunkard in a vain attempt to scavange enough coin for his next ale. My sword is unique, and you will either mend it or the bones in each and every centimetre of your body if you refuse. Do I make myself clear?" he said, putting the man down once more, the blacksmith gasping for breath as the pressure on his throat was releived. "I'll do what I can" he wheezed, his eyes wide with fright. "Good" Shaher said with a satisfied grunt before walking to the nearest wall and slumping against the wooden surface, his arms crossed as he patiently waited for the man to complete the weapon.
{OOC: No problem. ^^ Thanks for making the post in the first place. =p}
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Post by pancakes on Jul 4, 2009 10:30:03 GMT -5
Hattie jumped back, letting out a startled yelp when the dark-haired man suddenly grabbed the blacksmith and lifted him in the air. Her eyes were wide with shock, both at the man’s actions and his words. Compared to this, what he said to her seemed like a friendly greeting, and it left her unsure of what to do. She was torn between going to the blacksmith’s aid, and getting as far from the shop as possible. Before she could come to any conclusions, the blacksmith was back on his feet and scurrying to his repair tools, clearly wanting to fix the weapon and get the man out of his shop as fast as possible.
Watching the blacksmith still trembling and white-faced, Hattie felt a bubble of outrage float its way through her fear. The blacksmith was a good man whose drinking habits did not warrant that kind of treatment. He had always been good to her family, and she couldn’t stand to feel as if she had done nothing for someone who had always done what he could for them. So, pulling her courage together, Hattie strode over to the man. Once she was in front of him, she realized she had no clue what to say, especially to a man who was rather dodgy.
“Y-you,” Hattie swallowed nervously, trying to get her voice to stop trembling, “I don’t think you had any right to behave that way! Just because what he said displeased you doesn’t mean you should attack him, with your hands or words! I-I…you just…you should be ashamed of yourself!”
Hattie’s face was now red, though more from embarrassment than anger, her pathetic attempt at a rant leaving her standing stupidly in front of the man.
I cannot believe I just gave a lecture to a grown man that sounded like it was meant for my little siblings! Hattie thought, her embarrassment growing. No, even shoddier than what I’d give to my siblings! I should have just kept my mouth shut…or I should have just turned around and gone home as soon as I bumped into this man…
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Shaher
New Roleplayer
Fallen
Posts: 37
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Post by Shaher on Jul 10, 2009 23:45:55 GMT -5
Shaher stared at the girl in bewilderment. There were few that would approach him, let alone attack his actions so verbally. He grunted in her direction before pushing himself off the wall. He stalked over to the blacksmith, gave him an awkward glance and pulled a satchel from the depths of his armor. Grabbing a hand full of gold coins from the bag, he tossed them on the counter before looking back at the girl once more. Replacing the satchel, he walked back to the wall and slumped against the wood once more. "For your courage" he said simply, thinking it wise enough to assume that if she tried it again, she'd find herself for worse to say the least.
After a few moments of silence, he sighed heavily and walked out the door of the blacksmiths workshop, nudging his way through the crowd across to a steaming cart displaying a wide range of animal limbs, dripping with fat and smelling of foreign spices and sauces. Grabbing a large leg of what his nose told him was deer, he tore a strip of flesh from the bone before throwing currency in the mans face as he protested loudly. Making his way back to the blacksmith, meat in hand, he considered threatening the burly man into hurrying his work before thinking better of it. He would prefer his weapon be of higher quality then the mans usual work, rushed and weak.
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Post by pancakes on Jul 22, 2009 10:19:41 GMT -5
It was Hattie’s turn to stare in bewilderment when the stranger gave the blacksmith money for her ‘courage.’ Her mind was stuck somewhere between “did he honestly just say that to me?” and “what do I say to that?” Whether or not he was as dangerous as he seemed, he was incredibly overconfident, and she wasn’t sure how to handle it. Normally the only overconfident people she had to face were extremely drunk, and it was easy to laugh off their behaviour right in front of them, knowing they’d regret it come morning. The idea of laughing at this man seemed quite unwise to Hattie.
Nervously glancing at the man, she flinched when he once again lifted off from the wall; but, to her relief and slight confusion, he walked to and out the door of the workshop. As soon as his footsteps sounds weren’t distinct to the others, Hattie went over to the door and peered around the frame, just in time to see his back disappear in the crowd. Sighing with relief, she went back to her spot on the wall and hoped he would take his time.
How can one man induce this much stress? Hattie though wearily. I’m sure if I calm down I’ll realize I just blew the whole thing out of proportion, but that’s easier said than done. If anything, something’s probably going to be set on fire before this whole ordeal is over with.
((Sorry about the wait! Between working and going to cottages I haven't had the time or energy to rp.))
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Post by Kinetic Asparagus on Jul 23, 2009 16:23:08 GMT -5
((Is this still open? I'd love to pop in here, you both write really well. If not, I'll delete this post later. ;D))
Alaric trudged through the marketplace with a heavy step and a hammering head. He wasn't entirely sure what he had been doing the night previously, but had found three separate socks in one of his boots, none of them his, and had woken up with that silly stuff women put on their lips all over his left forearm but nowhere else. If it had been a good night, he certainly couldn't remember it.
He glanced up at the sky, with its mocking sun relentlessly penetrating his thick, dark clothing - and consequently turning him into a walking oven. Thankfully a relatively clean oven: Alaric could stand the stench of mud, he could stand the caked feeling of dirt clinging to his arms and legs and face, he didn't really mind when his hair was matted beyond repair... but he couldn't tolerate it when he felt... sticky. Therefore, he was fairly hygienic in summer.
He'd been "working" all day yesterday and had acquired quite the hoard, enough to warrant a day off. He didn't really quite know what to do with himself, until - after some aimless wandering - he realised that Aodh was in need of a shoeing at some point in the near future. Making up his mind, Alaric's stride lengthened as he strode purposefully over to the blacksmith's little workshop in the middle of Tamasha.
He ducked through the door and into the blacksmith's. He knew the man by name, Tarkir; he'd done a few special "jobs" for him and quite a few more legitimate ones. Nothing extortionate and nothing particularly exciting, but when Alaric was bored he sometimes popped by to do things in return for mundane necessities. Fresh water, food, a comfortable bed for the night... although he couldn't exactly call Tarkir his friend, he was his most regular employer of the very few he'd ever had.
Even if they'd never met before Alaric's life, he'd have been sharp enough to recognise that something was amiss. Tarkir was sheet white underneath his sweaty, blackened face, and visibly trembling as he hammered away at a blade which was clearly broken beyond non-magic repair. The noise only intensified Alaric's headache, and his bad mood along with it.
It was a few seconds before he noticed there was another person in the room. A girl, probably around his own age in biological years, but appeared strangely childlike in stance. She had none of the self-assurance of adulthood which Alaric had virtually been born with, as far as he could tell. Unusual, in a place like Tamasha. Alaric almost felt a tinge of jealousy, before it turned into something more akin to pity.
She was also rather pretty, he realised, running his eyes over her face properly.
He turned his attentions back to Tarkir, who had by now noticed the nineteen-year-old standing just inside the door. He didn't pay him much attention, but continued working at a frantic pace.
Alaric decided to wait. Patience wasn't exactly one of his virtues - if he had any - but he could recognise a creature in distress a mile away. He leaned against the wall without a word to anybody in the room.
((I feel like I'm taking too many liberties, tell me if you're not happy xD))
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Shaher
New Roleplayer
Fallen
Posts: 37
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Post by Shaher on Jul 23, 2009 18:23:26 GMT -5
Shaher watched as a man of sickening appearance entered the blacksmith, almost repulsed by his smell, Shaher sighed deeply before entering the musty workroom. Wincing as the smell assaulted his senses, Shaher snarled inwardly, giving the man a glare before glancing at the blacksmiths progress. The sword was almost taking shape, but he could tell it would never be as strong as it once was, it was times like this he almost wished he had taken the liberty of learning his brethren's ancestral arts of swordcraft. But that would not matter, if the sword could take shape and hold it enough for a mortal battle, he could find...someone or something to re-craft its strength. He hoped. The girl was staring vacantly into space, her face a mask of morbid confusion. The possibly homeless man wreaking of alcohol and what could be sulfur or bog water was staring vacantly at the girl, undoubtedly he was one of the undesirable's of the society. But that didn't explain his presence. Losing his patience rapidly, Shaher absently tightened the plates of his armor. Tag All{OOC: Don't mind me...new dudey guy. I'm evil. ^^ }
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Post by Kinetic Asparagus on Jul 24, 2009 14:11:20 GMT -5
It was no surprise that Tarkir was shaking. His face dropped the rest of its colour which it had regained since Alaric's entrance now that this admittedly formidable figure had apparently returned. It wasn't just the armour, or the hood, or the way he stood as though he would gladly crush every person in the room under his foot if he was able to do so. He had presence, effortless presence. Not a man you would speak or think of lightly. Alaric's eyes flitted over to the stranger for a second, scanning his features which were almost in profile now that he'd finished glaring around. He was fiddling with his armour, a gesture Alaric quickly analysed as a gesture of frustration and aggression; whether it was calculated or a subconscious urge which sparked it he didn't know. It was unlikely to be an act to draw attention to his defences as Alaric didn't exactly look as much of a threat - his longsword was well hidden. Tarkir sped up again, probably in an effort to get the man out of his workplace. In an attempt to diffuse the tension a little, Alaric softly murmured greetings to the blacksmith. Tarkir seemed no less nervous. "Shoes," Alaric said, a little louder. "Aodh needs shoes. Preferably this afternoon, if you have the time." He didn't speak in the common tongue but the dialect of his motherland, Keremin. It was a bit of a weak attempt to make Tarkir more at ease, by excluding the armoured man, but it did seem to have a slight effect for an instant. Of course, it was wholly dependent on their company not knowing the obscure speech. ((Sorry, weak post, very weak. I do apologise. ))
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Post by pancakes on Jul 27, 2009 11:16:33 GMT -5
Hattie’s head shot up when she heard someone enter the room, somewhat dreading it was the return of the menacing man. To her relief it was a different man; she could tell right away that there was nothing to fear from him, although she did note that he looked a bit worse for wear.
Much like a man who spent a bit too much of his night at the pub, she thought, a tiny grin flitting across her face.
This grins quick retreat was caused by the return of the strange man and his ominous aura. Her nervousness was increased when the man showed signs of agitation, which she assumed was due to the arrival of another person –if just the presence of her and the blacksmith caused him to be cold, she couldn’t imagine the presence of another person thrilling him.
When the new stranger spoke, it was with a language Hattie did not recognize, but she found to sound quite pleasant. It was both heavy and soft, making her imagine a small-town potluck with laughter and jokes being passed back and forth in this pleasant language. It seemed the blacksmith understood it, making her mind put him in with a group of men at this potluck, laughing good-heartedly with a large mug of mead in hand.
Glancing over at her original ‘company,’ she tried to read the man’s face for sign of recognition or confusion at the new man’s language, but could not pick up anything from his expression.
((It's fine, mine's weak too. >.< Thank you for joining! ))
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Shaher
New Roleplayer
Fallen
Posts: 37
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Post by Shaher on Jul 29, 2009 2:46:52 GMT -5
Shaher stood absent-mindedly, staring around the room. The sparks flying from his sword signaled it was almost done, but he would expect his weapon to be of some quality before he would leave the pale blacksmith in peace at last. Rolling his neck to relieve it of built up tension, his head collided with a wall lamp, tearing his hood asunder, exposing his face freely. Shaher growled in agitation, letting out a slight roar as he shielded his face, and consequentially hid his scars, by bring his cloak up with his free hand, the other in the process of refitting his shoulder plate. With a slight hiss escaping from his snarling lips, he tore a curtain from the wall and wrapped it around his head in a makeshift balaclava. "Enough of this, give me the blade and I will find another, must your incompetence know no bounds human?" he snarled, heaving himself over the counter and snatching the sword before knocking the blacksmith aside with the back of his hand. Stalking to the door, he stole a glance at the girl by the wall for a moment before tearing his eyes back to the street, walking into the midst of the crowd and making straight for the inn across the road. Inside, he ignored the polite woman at the check in desk and made his way to the roof, impatiently knocking aside a man on the stairs who got in his way. On the roof, he spread his concealed wings and took flight, soaring into the air on giant wings. {OOC: Sorry guys but I'm starting full time work and need to leave for now. }
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Post by Kinetic Asparagus on Jul 29, 2009 17:23:15 GMT -5
((Thanks for actually telling us rather than leaving us hanging =] I'm sure the OP wouldn't mind if you randomly popped back in at any moment if you have the opportunity =]))
The slight diffusion of the tension in the air didn't last long; it didn't have to. Alaric's eyes widened as the other man's hood was pulled from his face and a deep, angry gash right across his face was revealed. In the short space of time it was visible, Alaric noticed a number of things that weren't quite commonplace to a normal wound... to his eye it was dry, but it unhealed. It looked as though it was very new but there's no way it could have been... and he couldn't explain it to himself, no matter how he would try.
The backhand that the scarred stranger delivered to Tarkir was clearly very powerful; he fell backwards, his entire body falling to the floor in a thud. Uncharacteristically, Alaric went to help the blacksmith instead of pursuing his attacker. He didn't move fast enough to help break the fall, but he had him sitting against a wall in seconds... by which time the stranger had gone.
"Water. Ale if you can. Barrel out the back," he said shortly, common tongue this time, glancing up at the girl and motioning with his head, before having a quick check of Tarkir. He was still sheet white, but didn't seem to have hurt himself... Lucky for him, Alaric thought. He'd had bone trouble before... if he'd been injured, walking would have probably been out of the question.
At that moment, something extremely cold whipped past Alaric's ear, sending chills down his spine. He turned in its direction, hand on the hilt of his sword... but nothing. There was nothing and nobody there but himself and the girl.
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