forum Dystopian Fantasy RP aw yeah (Private)

Started May 02, 2018 by @Young-Dusty-the-Monarch-of-Dusteria group

tune

"Me too, it's been a long night." Tanrial sighed and helped push the sled back to the tavern.

(yeep sorry I'm late)
When they got there, the light was still on at the door and the bartender was waiting for them. "How'd it go?"
"Good," Mike said. "It looks like they'll be happy there. You shouldn't have any more problems with them."
The bigger man nodded. "Thank-you. I'll tell Polla in the morning."
They went back up to their rooms, and Bernon waved at Tanrial before entering his own room. "Sweet dreams. See you tomorrow."

“Yeah, see you.” She waved back before entering her room and heading to bed.

The morning came quickly, and the day dawned bright and sunny. The view from the window showed that the fishermen were already up and in fact bringing in the morning's catch by the time the sun cleared the trees.

Tanrial was up and dressed in no time, and quickly headed downstairs to see if Bernon and Mike were there.

They were sitting together at the counter, drinking tea. Bernon's hair was a curly golden-brown mess, while Mike looked like he was still half-asleep. They nodded at Tanrial as she approached. "Mornin'."

“Morning, sleep well?” She asked, sitting down next to Bernon at the same time as the bartender brought a dip of tea for her. She thanked him and took a sip.
(Byeee!)

"Yeah," Bernon said. "I've been trying to get the details of today's plan out of Sleepyhead over here."
Mike set down his mug. "I've been telling you. Since we still have to wait a few days for our letters to get through–and for the folks we contacted to actually get here–there's not much we can do while we wait except continue training, maybe scout out the terrain some more, and work on our actual plan of attack. We can't really work on that last one until we know how many allies we'll have, but that's the lineup."
"We could also spend some time helping out the villagers with chores or something, if they'll let us," Bernon said. "They've been so good to us, I feel bad just sitting here while they work so hard."

"We could always do all of it. Like you said, Mike we still have a few days so we could still train, scout the area and help with the villagers if they needed the help," Tanrial suggested, shrugging a shoulder ad taking a sip of the tea, "That way everyone is happy."

"True. I think the first thing we should do is–"
The tavern door opened, letting in the morning light. The bartender glanced up to see who it was and tensed ever so slightly. This caught Mike's attention and he stopped talking, slowly setting down his mug.
Heavy footsteps crossed the room and came to stop at the counter, and a voice with a deep accent came from quite close. "Morning. There anything left for a guy to drink in this place?"
While the bartender went over to talk to the stranger, Mike eased back in his chair and spoke very quietly to Tanrial. "Southern Clansman, without a doubt. Don'y make eye contact."

Tanrial frowned, “Why not? How bad is he?” She asked with equal quiet.

"Don't know yet. Looks like he's from the Gator Boys though, and they're the ones we're not so friendly with."
The man leaning against the counter was in his mid-thirties, with brown hair and sharp blue eyes. He wore a heavily patched and repaired military outfit, but his forearms and the back of his neck were marked with geometric tattoos resembling tiger stripes. He carried two guns, two knives, and who knew what else in his pockets, and he looked like he'd seen plenty of fighting in his life. There was a scar under one eye that accentuated his cheekbone and stood out whitely against his tanned skin.
As they watched, the bartender brought him a drink and stayed to talk for a moment. "What brings you, stranger?"
"Looking for work." The man's eyes slid over to where Tanrial and the others sat, then drifted away. "And a place to stay the night."
"Oh great," Bernon said in a tiny voice.

“How magnificent.” She sighed and finished off her drink, placing it down carefully.

Mike stood. "Come on. Let's go outside."
As they got up to leave, the newcomer glanced up at them again, his expression unreadable. THey could feel his eyes on them all the way to the door.

Once they were outside and out of ear shot of anyone that might have been able to overhear, did Tanrial speak, “Why? Everything was going fairly well and now he might jeopardise that. I mean we don’t know for sure if he will but he might.”

Mike sighed angrily and scanned the area for anyone watching. "Let's just hope he's traveling alone. If he's a solo man, we can take him. If he's a scout for a bigger group, we might have some trouble on our hands."
"Although," Bernon interjected, "Don't forget our rules, guys. If he doesn't immediately threaten us, we have to give him a chance. We may not have to fight him at all. Heck, we might not even have to talk with him, depending on how long he's staying."

“That’s true… Let’s just hope he isn’t staying here long and is just here by himself.” She said, running a hand through her hair.

"I agree." Bernon picked up a rock and threw it onto the lake, skipping it three times. "He said he was looking for work, didn't he? What if the villagers hire him to help with the fishing?"
"Some how I doubt he was talking about that kind of work," Mike said. "Fishermen doen't need that many guns."

“Should we warn Snatch and Fear? If he’s staying long and looking for work he might mistake them for hostile creatures…” Tanrial bit her lip, thinking.

"It might be a good idea," Mike said. "But for now, let's just wait and keep an eye on him. No sense stirring up anyth–oh for pete's sake, he's headed our way."
Sure enough, the man himself had left the tavern and was walking towards the along the shore.

“Of course he is. Since that’s just our luck, isn’t it?” Tanrial huffed and crossed her arms over her chest.

The man stopped when he was about a yard away, touching the brim of his baseball cap respectfully. "Hey, didn't mean to scare you out. I heard you three are trying to wage war against somebody?"

Tanrial narrowed her eyes, “Yeah… why’d you ask?”

He shrugged. "Curious. Can I ask who you might be fightin'?"

“This guy called Ryker. it’s a long story but let’s just say if we don’t stop him then humans won’t exist anymore.” She said, putting a hand in her pocket.

"Hm. Sounds like a noble cause." The man stuck his hands in his pockets. "What kinda force are you up against here? Just one guy? Or are there others?"
Mike stepped forward. "Look pal, why exactly do you want to know all this? Why do you care?"
"Oh, I don't mean to make a big secret out of it. I'm a mercenary. I was wonderin' of you'd like some help, is all."

“Is that it? You’re just a mercenary? Sorry but we’re just being careful.” She said, shrugging.

"And don't mercenaries usually travel in groups?" Bernon asked.
"Usually, yeah. But I'm freelance. Didn't get along too well with my old buddies." He smiled and offered his hand to shake. "I'm Rick, by the way. You?"

“Tanrial, this is Bernon and Mike.” She said, shaking Rick’s hand.