The Sentinels: Sleeping Giants

Lord Regal

The West Team
Sheriff
The Chasind followed Drake, claiming he'd repay the alchemist. "If you feel indebted to pay me back I won't stop you, but don't feel as though it'll make a difference to me. The metalsmith pays me well enough for the enchanted weapons and armor he requests, even if he insists on using those idiotic glyphs." He shook his head, clearly frustrated by this issue. After that he said nothing, not inclined to talk.

He approached the ramshackle setup he called home and stepped inside, motioning for the Chasind to come after him. The inside was quite bare, just a desk, a workbench, two chairs, and a bed. One wall had a large map, clearly drawn by a skilled mapmaker and sold to the man at a high price, covered with scriblings and circles. The alchemist carefully put his staff next to the axe at the foot of his bed, then went over to the map. "One second..." he muttered. "Heard something in the market today...need to get it written down." He grabbed a quill and ink, dipped the tip in, and wrote briefly on a section of the map, circling an area and crossing a different circle out. Glancing at his guest, the alchemist chuckled darkly. "The ones who don't speak in a crowded area aren't necessarily ignoring the people. Most are looser with their tongues when the people around them are clearly not listening. Makes it easier to hear something you weren't supposed to."

Drake then sighed and approached the work bench, adjusting his helmet. "Ok...what kind of enchantment do you want? Since they're arrowheads, defensive and buff enchantments won't accomplish anything. That means offensive. Give me some options, and I'll do what I can." He hesitated, then added, "You might as well give me your name while you're at it. It's not like we can hold a civilized conversation without those."
 

English Bill

Brynjolf regarded the room around him with interest. It was small but it was certainly quieter and less crowded than outside.
'I'm Brynjolf,' he answered the man's question. He didn't say anything about the enchantments for a moment though. It wasn't something he had considered before.
'What enchantment would you suggest?' He asked after a while then added, 'Will it take long. I appreciate the aid but I need to leave before any other Chasind recognise me.'
 

Lord Regal

The West Team
Sheriff
"Well met Brynjolf...Drake Nurms," the alchemist replied. While waiting for a response on which enchantment he should put on the arrowheads, he returned to the map, muttering under his breath as he studied it. Brynjolf eventually said he wanted Drake's advice on the matter, then saying he had to leave before another Chasind recognized him. "An outcast, hmm? No matter. You seem a decent sort...probably exiled for no good reason. As far as what I'd recommend...I'm guessing these are going to be all-purpose arrows, correct? That means I can't give them an elemental boost...but, maybe...yes. How does armor-piercing and increased accuracy sound? Yes, that's the best option."

Without waiting for a response, he took the bag of arrowheads, then dumped them out on his workbench. "This will only take a few minutes...unlike the unreliable glyphs, this is much faster and much safer to do." He took each arrowhead individually, focused his hand over it, and a small crackle jumped from the armored appendage to the small piece of metal. Each head took roughly 10 seconds for this to occur, so work moved swiftly.

After completing the 23rd arrowhead, Drake suddenly stiffened. "Damn it...not now," he cursed. The green jewels inlaid into his armor suddenly flared to life, gleaming brightly. The alchemist groaned, making an awful, tortured noise. "Damn you...stop...this......uurrrghhh...." He seemed completely unable to move, and the gems' brilliance didn't fade for several minutes. Then, without warning, they flickered and went out. The alchemist slumped forward onto his workbench, panting hard. He quickly pulled himself together and returned to his former position, groaning. He finished the arrowheads and gave them to Brynjolf. "Sorry about the delay," he muttered, his voice strained. "Wasn't expecting that to happen."
 

English Bill

"Wasn't expecting that to happen." said Drake but Brynjolf was already on edge. His beastial instincts putting him in a defensive position, ready for fight or flight.
'Are you okay? What was that?' He hadn't realised it at the time but he had half pulled one of the silver swords out of its sheath. Gently easing the blade back into position, Brynjolf moved to accept the arrowheads and help the alchemist up from his chair if he needed it.
 

Lord Regal

The West Team
Sheriff
Drake hesitated, then sighed. "I suppose I'd better tell you, else you'll blow it out of proportion." He waved the proffered hand from Brynjolf away, then slowly stood. "I made a foolish mistake some time back...I used to be more of a solo person than I am now, with skills that allowed me to do it. I touched the wrong artifact, and as a direct result I was cursed. I'll be perfectly honest...I don't know what affect it has on me...aside from the fact it's altering my body's physical appearance and my mind's way of thinking about things. This suit of armor I wear I had made by a group a long ways away, specifically for me. The metal is made to channel magic. The gems are enchanted to resist magical transformation. When the curse flares to life, the gems react to it, and the metal spreads their effect across my body. They can't stop the curse, but they slow it drastically...the fact I'm still changing tells me it's a powerful curse, as the group I bought it from promised me it would completely stop the effects of almost all curses. Until I know what it's doing to me, I don't want it having total control over me."

He shook his head. "Anyway, I've kept you long enough. You have your arrowheads...if you need anything else don't hesitate to stop on by...and if you insist on repayment...a job involving getting out of this worthless city would not only erase your debt, but leave me indebted to you. Good luck."
 

English Bill

(OOC: Edited. I did actually know that and have no idea why I wrote Humans.)

Brynjolf nodded to the alchemist and said his farewells along with an insistance that he would indeed pay the debt. He couldn't understand the 'civilised'. This man had told him that he was changing and he didn't know what it was he was changing into and yet he had said that Brynjolf might 'blow it out of proportion'. This was why he prefered animals. They didn't complicate things like people did.

While thinking on the topic of complicating things, Brynjolf's mind wandered to the fact that he had lingered too long and he turned to head straight for the main gates. He had to get out before he was noticed by anybody who could cause him trouble.
 
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braetwalda

Well-Known Member
(OOC: @English Bill - the Chasind are human as well, they're just considered barbarian types by the free folk)

Cesare
Cesare's eyes dropped to look at the dagger held to his chest then up to meet Galen's with a “you must be kidding me?” look "You realise if I wanted you dead I would have just ran you through right?" he said before shrugging his shoulders, Pausing as he returns his money back to its rightful place before speaking again "Come with me there’s an Inn just down here, we can talk more privately in there" stepping away from the dagger he leads Galen down a narrow alleyway of tents and hovels before arriving at a two storey thatched building; a rendering of the former Talamh king’s head painted upon the sign hanging over the door.
Moving inside the sparsely furnished Inn the entire lower storey a single large room with a bench spanning one end with a narrow and extremely steep set of steps in the opposite corner, Cesare paid for a pair of drinks before finding them a corner “So tell me Galen what have you been doing to since the war?” he asks before taking a sip of his drink “I myself have been plying my trade as a merchant…not as exciting nor as lucrative as being a general and heir to a fortune but it makes ends meet” he said offering the thief a small smile, he wasn’t the only person to find a sudden reversal in his fortunes, there were more than a few noblemen who had suddenly found themselves without lands, reduced to being mercenary captains or village elders with only stories to remind them of what they once had.
Taking another mouthful of the weak ale served within the inn Cesare settles himself against the back wall of the inn as he scans the faces of those within, not that any of the people in here would bother two armed men.
“I kind of glad I found you Galen you see this job is kind of personal” Cesare spoke with a slightly nervous look about him “You remember my sister Ymira, I think you met her briefly?” he asked speaking of his younger sister the last time any of the Sentinels had seen her had been moments before she had been forced to amputate her brothers arm after his ill fated duel with the warlord Khal Rhayder.
Cesare drained the rest of his ale in a single mouthful as he steeled himself to ask for Galen’s help saying the words in a low and anguished voice “I need you to help me find her Galen….she’s gone missing”
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Ben
The directions were nowhere near as accurate as Ben had hoped but after several hours journey within the dense undergrowth of the forest the group of mercenaries finally located the dried up stream bed and followed it up through the narrow gorge leading to the Wolfskin’s camp, passing their hanging corpses as they went, their bodies already ravaged by carrion.
The encampment itself consisted of a palisade wall and gate that spanned the mouth of the narrow gorge with a collection of burnt out houses and a watchtower inside the natural cul-de-sac formed by the high cliffs of the gorge, their wooden frames all that remained within the small clearing where the signs of battle were still visible.
“They must have taken their dead away with them lord” Jaime spoke from beside Ben as they examined the ground before pointing out the fact that other than the dead Wolfskin’s they’d already seen there were no other bodies inside.
The sudden sound of breaking undergrowth causes two of Ben’s men to draw weapons and stand in front of their lord in order to protect him from any incoming shots whilst another two quickly rushed to investigate.
“We’ve got a survivor here!” one of them bellowed from in amongst the bushes “I’d hurry lord I don’t think he’s going to last much longer”
 

tigermite

Galen followed Cesare into the tavern, and sat down at the table with him, taking off his mouthguard so that he could drink, he did not, however, lower his hood, keeping it drooped over his head, obscuring his face.
“So tell me Galen what have you been doing to since the war?I myself have been plying my trade as a merchant…not as exciting nor as lucrative as being a general and heir to a fortune but it makes ends meet.”
"I've been working for anyone who'll pay me." Galen briskly replied as he gulped down his ale, over the past five years life had been hard, and it had taken it's toll.
“I kind of glad I found you Galen you see this job is kind of personal, You remember my sister Ymira, I think you met her briefly?"
Galen nodded slowly, wary of whatever proposal Cesare might come out with.
"I need you to help me find her Galen….she’s gone missing.”
Although it was hidden from the rest of the world, Galen raised an eyebrow and leaned back, plonking his empty tankard down on the table.
"Missing persons, what's the pay?" He asked, both of them knew that Galen couldn't afford to do anything for free.
 

Zemelci

Well-Known Member
"Either that or they had none." Ben replied to Jaime when he said they must have taken the dead with them, however, Ben was rightly sceptical that they would have no dead, considering how good the Wolfskins were. Suddenly there was a commotion and the men rushed in front of him with two others going to investigate. Upon hearing the shout from the others Ben decided to act quickly. Dismounting from his horse Ben ran towards the bush signalling for Jaime to follow him. He stepped into the bushes and looked at his men. "Where? And which side?" he asked. This man could give them some clues as to who had done this and why.
 

Lord Regal

The West Team
Sheriff
Drake sighed as Brynjolf left. He had quite honestly been hoping that the man would have a job for him to do. This city was quite simply stifling. He didn't like it here...the overwhelming mass of bodies, the crushing despair one felt looking around...it was awful. He couldn't leave though, as the only other place he'd called home was gone...obliterated during the wars. He was stuck here until a job of some sort came around to get him out. He'd made sure that anyone who might be asked if they knew of a person who might like to take on a job knew he was interested, but so far, nothing had come his way. Yet another thing to curse the Sidhe for. Before they came, the land was still cruel, yes, but there was beauty in it. Now, even that was gone.

The alchemist sighed again, then pulled out a bottle of wine and poured himself a glass. He didn't drink often, but his mood grew so dark after the curse made a little more progress he found he had to in order to maintain his sanity. Brynjolf had seemed horrified by the curse...perhaps that was the normal way to think about it, and he, Drake, had simply been numbed to the terror of it since it'd been affecting him for so long. His affliction made him seek solitude, not wanting any judgement or to cause hurt should the effects turn him into something awful...yet at the same time he needed someone to be there...to support him...tell him everything would work out ok. God knew he wasn't telling himself that anymore.
 

braetwalda

Well-Known Member

Cesare
"I can afford to pay you a little something for your troubles" Cesare replied understanding that times were hard now that the old empires had crumbled, despite appearances he was moderately wealthy, not rich but capable of paying his way "I have to warn you I don't think my sister is merely lost... you see the last time I saw her she was about to leave for Dunnoc, its a small town down on the border we'd heard a rumour that they'd started mining the hills and wanted to get a jump on the competition...that was a week ago" draining the last of his ale he places his tankard next to Galen's, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand waiting as a serving girl came to take them away before speaking further "I'd go by myself but as you know the border countries are more dangerous than most and as good a swordsman as I am I could do with a couple of guys to back me up...I don't suppose you know of anybody looking for a job?"
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Ben
"He's back here my lord...Wolfskin by the look of him" the man replied pointing to a clump of bushes by the cliff wall.
Finding the man wedged within a crevice in the rocks; the only reason he hadn't been strung up with the others it is clear that he would last much longer as the wound in his leg had gone gangrenous and he was currently suffering from a fever from which he wouldn't recover.
 

Zemelci

Well-Known Member
Ben walked over and crouched down. "Who did this to you?" he asked savagely. "Did you find out their names?" The chances were that he was to far into the fever to understand him but there was some hope that he could give them some usefull information before he died.
 

tigermite

Galen listened to Cesare, so Ymira had gone missing in a mining town on the border, which could mean one of three things; The miners had uncovered something that they shouldn't have, bandits had raided the town, or worse, the hellish powers of the south were attacking.
"I'd go by myself but as you know the border countries are more dangerous than most and as good a swordsman as I am I could do with a couple of guys to back me up...I don't suppose you know of anybody looking for a job?"
Galen leaned forward, placing both of his elbows onto the wooden surface.
"Afraid I don't know anyone else, I prefer being alone. So am I your first recruit, or have you found anyone else?" He asked, his voice devoid of the rasping tone his mouthguard gave him.
 

English Bill

Despite his best efforts at keeping a low profile, Brynjolf had barely gotten a few feet from the alchemists hut before he found himself surrounded by a small group of Chasind. He didn't recognise them but they clearly knew him. The leader was mumbling something about exile and not having a bear to help him this time. In truth Brynjolf didn't listen. If he didn't act quick they would undoubtedly kill him.

Moving as quickly as he could, Brynjolf drew botb swords and leapt forward. He swung the first sword at the leaders face while keeping the second to his back so he could deflect any attacks to his flanks.
 

braetwalda

Well-Known Member
Cesare
it wasn't the answer he'd been hoping for but he wasn't all that surprised by it "The blacksmith mentioned some kind of alchemist was looking to get out of town" he replied to Galen's question, the look on his face showing how dubious he was about hiring an alchemist "Well if you fancy a walk I could do with a second opinion on him, I’ve just got to find out where to find him" getting up from the table Cesare asks a small group of people figuring that there couldn't be that many alchemists within town.
With a set of vague directions to the alchemist’s house he returns to his table "So are you ready to go?"
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Ben
Despite the fever raging within him the wounded man manages to muster enough energy to give Ben a derisive look before speaking "We kind of skipped the introductions and they weren't much for talking"
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The Chasind
They had spotted him back in the market place arguing with the weapon smith and had decided to teach the exile a lesson, following him to the alchemist’s house where they had patiently waited outside for his return.
"We told you not to come around here anymore Brynjolf" the leader of the group snarled; a large man with a thick black bushy beard and an equally large gut bulging out from beneath the leather waistcoat he wore "No bears here to save you this time…you’re dead meat" he snarls as the others slowly make a move to encircle him.
Caught off guard by the mans sudden action the large man only just manages to dodge the swipe to his chest, stumbling out of the mans reach before shouting to the others "Make it quick boys, we'll dump his body down an alley" he commanded drawing the sword from his belt as a man to Brynjolfs left swung a woodcutters axe at his knees, the other two men despite drawing weapons seemed content enough to merely watch for the time being.
 

tigermite

"So are you ready to go?"
"Yeah sure." Galen replied, standing up, he checked that all his weapons were fully strapped onto his person, Cytringham was a dangerous place, and he wasn't taking any chances.
Hell, everywhere was dangerous nowadays, which made his attitude doubly true.
Turning, he followed Cesare out of the tavern and through the town's bustling streets.
As they made their way to the alchemist's house using the directions Cesare had been given. Galen's nimble fingers automatically worked, reaching into the pockets of passersby to pilfer whatever coinage items he could easily pickpocket.
 

Lord Regal

The West Team
Sheriff
The Chasind's voice, raised as it was to attempt to intimidate Brynjolf, reached Drake's ears as well. It was muffled, but the tone made the man's intentions clear. "Damn it...I guess I'm obligated to help, seeing as I'm the reason he's still in town." Still grumbling, he grabbed his staff and axe, then stormed out the door.

There were three of them. One actively fighting Brynjolf, the other two seemingly content to watch. The were going to butcher him right outside of Drake's home, it seemed. Not that he was going to let them. "That's quite enough!" he bellowed, planting his feet confidently. "I don't care what your reasons for fighting are, but I won't have any of it. Brynjolf seemed an honorable person to me...I won't stand by and let you slaughter him int he middle of the city." Remembering that the Chasind were highly superstitious, he decided to put on a bit of a show. He ignited his staff, the top bursting into angry flames. A burst of the fire shot to his axe, which then started crackling with electricity. "I'll give you a chance to end this peacefully...else I'll join the fight. You'll still have numbers...but I have my alchemy. You choose."
 

Zemelci

Well-Known Member
"Fine. You could have overheard something useful though." he replied before thinking "Which way did they go?" he asked quickly. Then before the man replied he turned round and ordered Jaime to get the men to scour the battlefield for anything of importance... or value. Then turning back round he awaited a response from the man.
 

English Bill

Brynjolf had been taught to duel by Rogest but in situations where the odds were so heavily against him he always relied on the skills he had learned while surviving the wilds.

Fighting like a cornered beast meant he moved in swift unpredictable ways with no thought for honour or correct form. It was fighting to survive and nothing less. In this way he swung boths swords upwards in an arc at his closest enemy, forcing them back to give him room. From there he drove his head forward to connect with the nose of the next enemy while spinning around so that, although there was less power to the attack, it was harder for his opponents to mount a good counter strike.

That was when he noticed the Alchemist and he gave silent thanks to the spirits of the wild. The odds where looking better.
 

braetwalda

Well-Known Member
The Chasind
"What do you know of honour?...Stay out of this Free folk this is Chasind business!" the large bearded man snarled keeping a safe distance from Brynjolf as he did so, the axeman currently clutching his broken nose.
Making a quick waving gesture in Drakes direction the other two men reluctantly moved to face the alchemist positioning themselves in such a way so that Drake was unable to see both of them at the same time, his magic show obviously not having the effect he’d hoped for.
The man to his left suddenly made a feinting attack at his chest with his sword, the blade worn and dented but still capable of removing a limb whilst the second man made to strike the back of Drakes skull with a hammer. Unencumbered by armour the two of them would be more than capable of dancing in and out of the armoured alchemists reach all day should he let them… killing him with a thousand tiny cuts.

Whilst the alchemist was dealing with his own problems the large bearded man launched himself once again at Brynjolf and although he was nowhere near as good a swordsman as the exile was he attacked with a speed and ferocity born of a natural warrior aiming to kill him as quickly and bloodily as possible.
Meanwhile the axeman his face and beard now smeared with his own blood waited for an opening in which to strike from behind.
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Cesare
The two men walked through the endless twisting alleyways of tents, hovels and the occasional timber building the eyes of those living there following their every move and not for the first time Cesare feared that they may get attacked; no one would come to their aid here it was every man for himself and the guards knew better than to interfere unless the numbers were really on their side.
"So tell me Galen...were you at the Black gate the day my brother died?" he asked as he turned down yet another alley. He had been too badly injured to have joined the battle and precious few of those that had been there on that day had lived to tell the tale and he so very much wanted to know how his brother had died.
Listening to the answer provided Cesare nods his head in understanding yet before he is able to answer stops as he hears the sound of ringing steel coming from somewhere up ahead "Do you hear that?...sounds like there’s some kind of battle going on"
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Ben
"You won't find anything...they ransacked the place and took as much as they could carry and then the villagers came and took as much as they could carry too" the man wheezed in response to Ben’s order though the mercenaries went anyway despite what he said "As for where they went I wasn't in a very good position to watch...all I know is that they vanished as quickly as they had appeared and without trace"