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Bentus
Senator
 
Posts: 3683
Founded: Dec 18, 2013
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Bentus » Sat Oct 27, 2018 5:50 pm

Yvonne Lafaille


The man’s eyes bulged and a sharp groan escaped from his lips. Held to the cobblestone wall behind the tavern, he didn’t have the strength or the chance to wrestle himself free of his assailants before the clenched fist once again slammed into his belly. The harsh blow crushed his lungs, chasing the air out from his throat and leaving his gasping for a breath. He could feel the tears beginning to burn in the corners of his eyes, the moisture causing the dark alley around him to appear blurry and indistinguishable in the moonlight.

“Look...please...I don’t have the money.”

A derisive snort echoed from one of the three hazy figures surrounding him: it was the one which had delivered the last blow, not one of the pair which kept his arms pinned to the wall. Their victim - a guard who had up until recently been hired to protect some of the caravans travelling to-and-from the city - felt his chest tighten as his pleas were once again ignored. A hint of desperation began to enter into his raspy voice.

“I had a job, ok. I was going to pay you as soon as I got back, but then the whole lot of us got this accursed sickness and -”

A sudden, unexpected blow to the face shut the guardsman up in an instance, sending a flash of stars across his vision. There was a fresh taste of iron in his mouth, and he was almost certain that one of his teeth had finally become dislodged from its roots.

“I don’t fuckin’ care about you’re excuses, you hear?”

The aggressor hissed, leaning in close to his dazed victim. He was clearly the leader of the trio that had cornered the indebted guard, his two lackey having remained effectively silent throughout the encounter. His eyes were a deep blue, and he had the physique of someone who was no stranger to a fight. Blinking away a drop of blood that threatened to mix with his tears, the guardsmen found himself staring into the man’s leering face as it leaned in close to his own. A snake tattoo wormed its way across the man’s bald scalp, twisting its way across his cheek until it disappeared into the neckline of his shirt. His eyes glowered menacingly, unblinking as they bore into the guardsmen’s own pained expression.

“I’m getting real tired of waiting for what’s mine. There ‘as to be consequences for your actions or you’ll never learn.”

Gulping, the guardsman forced himself to respond, although the effort sent a numb pain echoing through his chest. “One more week...please. That’s all I need, Robert, then I’ll pay you back in full.”

Leering, Robert jabbed a fat finger into the guardsman’s chest. “You’ll do more than pay me back in full, mate. You’re going to pay me and the boys back in full with interest. Otherwise it’s not just you who’ll end up as a sack of broken bones.”

A confused expression flashed across the guardsman’s face, his mind slowly processing the threat through the haze of pains and aches until his eyes began to grow wide in horror. “No!” He immediately began thrashing, the pair of thugs holding him down suddenly having to redouble their efforts as the man seemed to find a new reservoir of energy. The attempt was ultimately in vain, however, but that didn’t stop the guardsman from trying. “You piece of shit, you lay one hand on Constance then I’ll…!”

“You’ll what, bruv’?” Robert sneered, a twisted smile etched onto his features as the guardsman’s voice trailed off, a sickening sense of powerlessness crashing down over him.

“You can’t! I’m the one who bet that money, I’m the one who lost, leave her out of this Robert, for fuck’s sake, please leave her out of this. I’ll do whatever you want, alright?” The pleas were becoming increasingly desperate, the guardsman having been reduced to a quivering wreck as the last of his strength began to retreat from his body. Robert was enjoying every moment of it, relishing the feeling of dominance and his much-deserved vengeance. He knew that there was no way that the guard would ever be able to find the money he was owed, but that didn’t matter to him. Robert would give him another week to struggle in vain, and then inevitably pay him and his missus a visit to set an example for all the others who owed him coin.

“What’s going on here?”

All four of the men whipped around to look towards the feminine voice, caught off-guards by the appearance of a stranger. Robert had already twisted his expression into an irritated scowl.

“None of your goddamn busi...ness...” The thug’s voice trailed off as his eyes came to rest on the well-built figure now standing at the alley’s entrance, her arms folded sternly across her chest. The moonlight reflected off the thin layer of chainmail that still hung over her chest, although it seemed to be a design intended to be worn under a heavier set of armour. Suddenly acting more cautious, Robert’s eyes scanned the woman until they fell upon the Divine sigil that adorned the tunic over her chest.

Shit.

Breaking into a smile, Robert’s whole demeanour changed as he opened his arms in an effort to put the Paladin at ease. “Pardon my language ma’am, I didn’t mean to disrespect a traveller such as yourself. Me and the lads ‘ere just had a little disagreement. Nothin’ that can’t be sorted out between us gents.” He turned to glare at the guardsman, the battered man struggling to remain conscious. “Ain’t that right?”

The pair of thugs holding down their victim nodded eagerly, quickly taking on from their leader’s cure. Yvonne raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. One of the men elbowed the guardsman in the chest, the stab of pain causing him to wince. Forcing himself to look up, he met the level gaze of the armoured woman with his own, a slight smile pushing itself onto his features in an attempt to allay any of her concerns. However, his eyes desperately tried to cry out for help.

Seeing the man’s battered and bruised face, one of his eyes nearly having been swollen shut and a trail of blood trickling down from his nose and lip, Yvonne immediately stiffened her stance. It certainly didn’t look like nothing was going on to her.

“Let this man go at once. Whatever dispute with him that you may have, it is a matter for the local justices and the guards.” Yvonne’s voice was stern and commanding, sounding just as stubborn as her stance.

Robert’s eyes narrowed and he turned to properly face the uninvited guest. “Look girl, it seems to me like you’re new around here so I’ll cut you some slack, but this dispute don’t involve you. We don’t like outsiders sticking their noses where they don’t belong. I think it’d be best if you just run along and forgot you even saw us.” His voice lowered as he made to unsheath a blade from his belt, having noted that the woman was unarmed herself. “Wouldn’t want for things to get ugly, especially with that pretty face of yours.”

In the dark alley, and feeling confident with his chances, Robert never expected the woman to rush straight towards her armoured opponent without any additional warning. He didn’t have a chance to react to the fist that she swung straight towards his face, but he certainly felt it as the powerful impact exploded into his nose. Robert’s neck whipped around from the blow, his nose twisting and contorting as a splatter of blood sprayed out across his cheek. Knocked backwards on his feet, and knocked out cold in an instant, Robert’s eyes rolled back into his head as he collapsed onto the cold pavement.

Silence descended on the alley, thugs and guardsman alike stunned by what had just transpired. Robert’s hired muscle glanced warily at each other, each uncertain of how to proceed with their boss now lying unconscious in a growing pool of his own blood. Yvonne glared at them, her eyes unflinching as the silence drew out for a few nervous seconds.

“Release that man at once.” The thugs seemed to hesitate, glancing warily at each other. What would happen if Robert found out when he woke? Yvonne felt herself becoming increasingly impatient. “Do it now, or you will find yourselves waking up in the local justice’s office with the worst headaches of your lives.”

With the implicit threat of imminent pain and legal punishment, all thoughts of loyalty from the thugs’ heads. As if with one mind, they both suddenly released the guardsman and began to race down the alleyway, running desperately away from the armoured figure who stood before them. The guardsman immediately fell to the floor, his weakened legs unable to hold up his own weight as his body was wracked by coughs.

“Th-thank you.” He muttered through gasped breaths.

Yvonne watched the thugs make their escape for a few moments before sighing to herself, knowing that there was little point in trying to chase after them. Crouching down, she looked over the guard in concern. He had been seriously beaten, and she was impressed to see that he was even still conscious. Surely it was only by the will of the Divine that he was even still able to compose full sentences.

“You are badly hurt.” They were just behind the inn that she was staying at, so her best bet was to take the man to the local innkeeper. He would know how to contact the proper authorities. “Here, let me help you get inside.”

Pulling the man’s arm over her shoulders, Yvonne slowly lifted him back to his feet, carrying his weight with little effort but careful not to try to exacerbate any of his injuries. Despite her efforts, the man winced as he was pulled back onto his feet. He opened his mouth as if to once again thank his savior, but Yvonne offered him a friendly smile to cut him off.

“Save you strength, guardsman. Do not waste your life thanking me for saving it.”
- - Bentus
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"Though I fly through the valley of Death, I shall fear no evil. For I am at the Karman line and climbing." - Bentusi SABRE motto

[22:07] <SergalKashra> it's not a matter that i can't think up something
[22:07] <SergalKashra> it's getting thoughts to screen
[22:07] <Avlana_> Oh
[22:07] <Avlana_> Try typing
[22:07] * Avlana_ nods
[22:07] * SergalKashra stabs Avlana_ in the knee

How Roleplays Die <= Good read for anyone interested in OPing

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Nuridia
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 12756
Founded: Dec 28, 2011
Democratic Socialists

Postby Nuridia » Sat Oct 27, 2018 6:40 pm

The Republic of Atria wrote:
New Finnish Republic wrote:Edward Brunwulf


Valan listened to what Edward had to say. The first two were non-issues. The only one that had actual merit was the fact that the goblins might have taken captives and that he might accidentally smother them to death with smoke. Something that he obviously wanted to avoid. "This may surprise you, but this wouldn't be the first time I've had to scorch some filth in a woodland area. There is no risk of me starting a forest fire unless I intend to. And as for damaging valuables the goblins may have, also impossible unless they would perish from lack of air. I will concede your third point. I hadn't considered that they would have captives this early in their encampment." He explained. Edward clearly had no idea how pyromancy worked, and there was no wasting time explaining the differences between man made fire and magical fire.

He did take slight issue when Edward explained that he would likely have to be scorching goblin children. Even if they would still grow up to be evil monsters, it still bothered him. They'd have to be killed, and he was the best equipped to ensure that it would be purified.

"Don't scorch all the little ones right away. Goblin spores are an excellent potion ingredient." Aayla chimed in. "Let me harvest a few spores, then do you thing and set them ablaze." Said said, pulling out one of her razor sharp knives and an airtight flask. "Just a few will let me make enough healing potions to last for the rest of the year. Or a poison to put down a dragon." She mused, quickly recalling all the potions she could make with the remains. Valan, even through his mask looked a little uncomfortable with the idea. So she tried "Ooooh don't worry burning them. It's much easier if you think about them as mushrooms. It's pretty much what they are. They're almost as smart as mushrooms, look about as attractive, and sometimes have knives. Poorly made knives, but knives nevertheless. Try closing your eyes when you do it. Mushrooms and fungi don't have children. So they're really just smaller goblins."

He gave her an odd look when Aayla causally mentioned harvesting young goblins. The way she spoke indicated that this wasn't her first time, and likely wouldn't be her last. Were they really just walking mushrooms to her? If that was the case then he knew what to spend the walk over mediating on. "Of course. I'll let you have your pick first before I incinerate them." He finished.

"Good! Otherwise I'd have to scold you and give you an I told you so instead of a healing potion next time you got hurt. Don't worry about it. You stepped on plenty of innocent mushrooms on the way here, I don't see why you're taking issue now that they're picking up weapons."

Pan listened closely to Edward's instructions, nodding when he said that she would have to guide them and provide light at a certain point. "That all sounds well and good...but I don't particularly feel the concept of killing children, no matter what race they are. The adult goblins I've got no issue with, maybe even the youth. But...babies? I don't know about that." Aayla then talked about goblins in comparison to mushrooms, they were similar in that they produced with spores...but they still had brains. Spores didn't have brains however, and Aayla's idea of using them as a potion was actually pretty smart...she may have to gather some herself. "I can provide the light, but somebody will have to give directions. I can make out living things, but not inanimate objects unfortunately."
Uru, Queen of Diamonds.
The Diamond card suit represents fire, strength and power. Sister of the Queen of Hearts, Queen of Spades and the Queen of Clubs.

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Absolon-7
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 398
Founded: May 11, 2014
Authoritarian Democracy

Postby Absolon-7 » Sat Oct 27, 2018 7:04 pm

Zarkenis Ultima wrote:The Renegade Pirate Heir, Frey Farwind
Segral wrote:Oberon Klask


Roxana Ma'gonid


And now that Simion had left on his prescribed errand, Roxana was left to meditate to herself once again. That exchange took way more effort than she had anticipated. Moreover, she was simultaneously mad and perplexed that Redcloak had seen through her so quickly and clearly. Well she wasn't one for having tons of friends so perhaps she just didn't know how well to convey body language in a way that wouldn't give away information. How annoying. Closing her eyes again she began to regulate her breathing once again and focusing in the soft yet deep breathing of Methuselah. The light gray donkey could be stubborn but overall he was a gentle and affectionate animal. She remembered buying him from a neighboring ranch when she was thirteen and since then he had been a loyal companion. A small smile landed on her face remembering all the memories she had with the fluffy ball of grey fur when he was a foal. Suddenly she heard Simion speaking off how Nur's pastries were better.

"Thank you, Simion," said Roxana receiving the croissant and taking a big bite out it and savoring its sweetness, "Well can't say you're wrong about that. Those central cities get all the good sugar imports cause they're willing to pay the most." Suddenly, she heard the really new guy Frey greeting the group. "Yeah, we're waiting on a monk named Oberon and a lycan named Luca," realizing she had told anyone else about Frey she raised spoke out to Simion and Harald, "Oh guys, I nabbed us another Legionnaire, Frey here, to help us out. Hope you don't mind."

Although even if they did mind it's like they had much of a choice in the matter as she was their workplace superior but what surprised Roxana was a hawk swooping down perching itself on Frey's arm. She looked as Harald fed the hawk and seeing the bird nibble on the pastry was quite cute. The hawk reminded her of the Giant Hawk Riders from the Wood Elf Auxiliary in the Thapsian military. Although she had only seen them once during a visit her family was making to a provincial capitol. Coincidentally they had arrived the same time a military battalion was conducting a triumph around the city in celebration of defeating an enormous army of devils from the underground. Their majestic swoops and turns in the air had enamored her child self. Now that she thought about it, it had been a while since she had seen any family. Her reminiscing was then interrupted by Oberon showing up and asking quite reasonable questions if straightforward.

"Well, the digsite is by the World Sword and that's around 4 hours worth of walking away from the city and the monument is pretty noticeable in the flat plains west of here so spotting it should be easy especially if we stick to the highway. For how long well spend well I don't exactly know. Mr. Byron will most certainly want to have dinner with us so we'll have to comply to stay in his graces. And if we leave for the barrow the next morning well that depends on how much of an obstacle the inside is. For when we'll get back, we'll definitely be back within a week. I doubt we'd be clueless enough to get stuck underground for longer than that. If you don't mind that'll be the most I say until Luca gets here as I would prefer not repeating myself."

With the last sentence Roxana began to think deeply about the nature of the contract itself. It was quite suspicious of Mr.Byron getting the heirloom now when he was old and retired when he could have easily gone to go get it when he was in his prime. His exploits where well known within the Legion and were even recorded in the Hall of Fame. And the World Sword barrow was well documented so it couldn't have something that not even he could have taken care of. Placing a finger on her chin she began thinking of perhaps it was some family issue or maybe he barely learned of it himself. Perhaps. Just perhaps.
Last edited by Absolon-7 on Sat Oct 27, 2018 10:19 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Turmenista
Negotiator
 
Posts: 5420
Founded: Apr 09, 2014
Left-Leaning College State

Postby Turmenista » Sat Oct 27, 2018 8:16 pm

    Luca Greyfoot
    West Gate
    __________________________________

"You know, you don't need to repeat any information to me. I could hear you from over here."

Waving at the group at the West Gate as he silently approached them, Luca took note of the elf's donkey. A Lycan's natural endurance didn't necessitate the use of a cart or horse, as most Lycans that were old enough could simply walk nonstop to their destination, or only stopping a few times. However, the team were not Lycans. Still, he was confident in knowing that they would make it to their destination within 4 hours, should they stick to the main roads. Their mission would begin with a dinner and, hopefully, an indoctrination from Mr. Byron himself about the mission, where they would stay the night at his estate and leave for the barrow in the morning. The possibility of him transforming now lay upon how good he could exercise self-control and the circumstances of Mr. Byron's estate—if it was stressful, a transformation would be inevitable.

However, he wasn't placing his bets on having to transform at all. Besides, the team was pretty well-rounded, and Luca was confident that anything thrown their way would easily be taken care of. Luca was a very by-the-books person to begin with, so any transformation would have to be a method of last resort instead of a trump card that could potentially jeopardize the safety of himself and others.

He twitched an ear in frustration upon mention of the underground and barrows. Barrows were never his thing—and the last time he was underground, or at least partially underground, he transformed under a full moon and went berserk on some goblins. Hopefully, that wasn't going to happen again.

Placing his hands to his sides, he stopped by the group. "I made sure to pack everything I need—or anyone else might need—just in case," he gestured to the small bag carried on his back, near Illumina's scabbard. Not bothering to mention the rune-covered Lycan greatsword itself, it didn't take that big of a brain to realize how big of a sword it was, though it didn't seem at all large in the hands of a Lycan. "I also brought food for the trip, if you fancy. It'll need some water, though."

He then revealed the strange foodstuff in question: hardtack. It was notorious for being extremely hard and, at times, maggoty, but still was a hearty meal if you were in prolonged combat or going to be out in the field for long. Though, out of ignorance or just intentionally, Luca didn't know that no one here was in the mood to be eating that stuff. "I figure we can get something that's... better tasting, along the way, or at this man's house."

Speaking of Mr. Byron, Luca too began to think about their mission upon the man's name being mentioned, his tail swaying to the side. "I'm morbidly curious, though, why exactly would we be retrieving a heirloom that he could retrieve, if he is such a revered and legendary hero?"

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Solisian Union
Envoy
 
Posts: 311
Founded: Apr 22, 2018
Father Knows Best State

Postby Solisian Union » Sat Oct 27, 2018 10:30 pm

Arialista was still new to all that was happening in this new land that she now must call her home. She no longer belonged to the Archipelagos as she chose to leave it and seek adventure and rest. After so much fighting for so many causes, she wished to devote her body and mind to another cause. For once, she did not leave the headquarters of the Legion, choosing instead to settle into a very cheap apartment within walking distance to the legion.

In the apartment, she was humming a little song from her childhood while putting on her armor. She never had her own weapon any longer. She was the weapon. Above her head, a little flame kept orbiting, keeping her warm but never harming even a single strand of her long Eastern hair. Her boon had remained with her after she paid the Legion her first visit and made her first vows and touched the holy...thing for the first time. After she took care of her armor, she turned to her small table where a tiny plate with some brown bread and eggs as well as bacon. She sat before it and began to eat quietly.

In time, she finished eating her breakfast and after making sure of the rest of her things, she departed and locked it. She then attached a note to the door, hoping to inform her landlord that she would return after a little while. What she meant by that was not exactly what she wrote.

-----

Soon enough, Arialista had reached the headquarters of the legion, consulted the board for contracts and found one that interested her. There, she chose the second one. She didn't have any patience for goblins and she was not in the mood to help find a family heirloom. She wanted to move around, know more about this country and gain the trust of her new Legion. After she checked her own cloak, a new addition to her finest collection, she looked around, hoping to find a party that already existed for the escort mission.
Last edited by Solisian Union on Sat Oct 27, 2018 10:31 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Finland SSR
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 14160
Founded: May 17, 2014
Psychotic Dictatorship

Postby Finland SSR » Sun Oct 28, 2018 2:59 am

Simion Valerin, the marksman from Nur!




Soon enough, the incomplete team was greeted by someone new - they weren't around when they were registering for the heirloom mission, but presented themselves as if they were alreadt acquainted. Before Simion could culp down his bite of the croissant and ask what are they even doing here, Roxana intervened and explained - she recruited this fellow Legionnaire, named Frey, during that half an hour to help them out. There were two things to note about Frey - first, he was stashed with enough swords to arm an entire squad, and second, he was a falconer. Yes, I know that's a hawk and not a falcon, that's the technical term for the profession.

Falconry is a useful profession both in and out of battle, having its niche both in hunting for food and in scouting for trouble, so recruiting the help of a falconer can only be appreciated. Cracking a faint smile, Simion walked up to Frey and stretched out his arm for a handshake, speaking:

"If that's the deal here, then it's nice to meet you, Frey. My name is Simion, I am an artisan by trade and a marksman by calling."

Humble, simple and to the point, just as needed. Maintain that discipline in speech, at least. That'll be the foundation for actual change.

Soon, Oberon and Luca showed up as well, so the last people lissing could be checked off the list. Thank goodness, the former at least had the decency to put on a shirt this time. Having fifty sets of civilian eyes stare at them because one barbarian doesn't know what the words "clothes" mean could compromise the whole mission. Luca wasn't even worth talking about. They prepared for everything by the book, nothing more, nothing less. With the stage set, Roxana moved on to explain the plan for the mission itself. They'll start with a four hour trip to the World Sword and the digsite nearby, most likely have dinner with Byron, and take on the mission inside the barrow after spending a night in his mansion. A simple linear plan.

Obviously, there's the question of why Byron is only taking on retrieving this heirloom now instead of any time earlier, specially since he had apparently known that the heirloom was lost somewhere in the digsite by his father. Simion decided to ignore this question, however, because there were too many possible answers for it to be worth discussion. Maybe the location of the artifact was not precisely known up until now. Maybe there was some obstacle blocking the way until recently. Maybe Byron had only received information about it today. Or maybe he tried earlier and fairled, so he is searching for additional help. Who knows? Byron knows, he'll tell us.

Just now, Luca spoke up, asking why the legendary adventurer would even need anyone's help when he could most likely retrieve it all by himself. Alright, I can at least answer that.

"Nothing in this story implies that Byron could take on it alone. Even the most legendary and famous warrior is not invulnerable - if there's something guarding the heirloom, then it makes sense to call for reinforcement." Simion spoke. At least there was certainly no difference between cannon fodder and legends to his hand cannon. Punches through their flesh and bone all the same. "There isn't really much we can assume without information which we don't have."
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Charmera
Post Marshal
 
Posts: 18672
Founded: Jan 18, 2013
Father Knows Best State

Postby Charmera » Sun Oct 28, 2018 11:02 am

Telisaran Sylvarin
The Bulletin Board
Telis considered his decisions carefully as his strange pale eyes scanned the current board of missions for Legionnaires. Unlike many of the others Telis did not concern himself too much with the price, though he did note how high they were. He needed only enough to live off and pay his rent, then he would donate the rest to others. Ironically such an act was less in a charitable spirit and more out of a simple lack of need for coin. Telis had no desire for worldly goods save for the purpose of enhancing and preserving his quest for perfection, so it was better that others use the coin that he would otherwise be forced to hoard.

The Goblin Extermination quest caught Telis' eye at first. Combat was the only way to challenge himself in order to find those flaws which corrupt the pure iron of his body and mind. He was no stranger to taking life, however seeking the death of others was another thing entirely. Despite the fact they were goblins, and worthy of swift death, he was no assassin. He may have felt compelled to join if no one else would take up such as quest, as to leave innocents to die in goblin raids would be irresponsible, he noted that others seemed interested in it and so his presence was not needed.

The mission to retrieve a family heirloom seemed interesting to Telis. The foes they would meet seemed definitely intriguing. Telis, however, noticed that the Lord would give a gift as part of the payment. He would have to refuse that gift, and he did not want to have to be rude to his employer if he could avoid it.

Instead, he settled on the Caravan job. It seemed simple enough. He had nothing he could object to in that. So he signed up for that job at the front desk.

The elf was about to leave when he heard the voice of another individual say something about the "Red Hill contract". He turned to see an elf that a human might assume to be a high elf. However, Telis' eyes were keen enough to spot some of the subtler differences between her and a high elf, the pale skin, the taller frame, and the light hair. Most importantly she had a purple cloak on her back, indicating her rank in the legion and perhaps the importance of what she had to say. Considering the other people gathering around her, Telis thought perhaps it would be wise to follow suit.

Telis walked towards the group. He bowed in respect towards the purple cloaked woman, as he would to a Brother or Sister of the higher orders. He did it partially out of habit, but also out of genuine respect for someone who likely worked for a higher position. It was always important to reinforce diligence by respecting those of higher rank.

"I heard you call for those who are guarding the Caravan. What is it you wished to tell us?" He asked.

He then turned to regard the others present. A Dwarf, A human that Telis could only assume was a Witch Hunter, Another very hardy human, An armored man, what appeared to be another monk, A wood elf, A woman with two daggers and two inquisitors, just to name a few,

"I am Telisaran Sylvarin, Brother Monk of the Way of Steel." Telis spoke those words knowing some would not understand what they meant, but he would be willing to explain if nessecary.
Zarkenis Ultima wrote:And here, we see a wild Shittonicus Charactericus, coloquially known as Charmera, in its natural habitat. It seems to be displaying behavior expected from one of its kind, producing numerous characters and juggling them with its front paws.

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Toaslandia
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1314
Founded: Apr 29, 2017
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Toaslandia » Sun Oct 28, 2018 11:28 am

"Greetings, Monk. I have heard of the Way of Steel, but only in drunken gossip. I do hope you will tell me what it is. Anyway, I am Hadrian, a Sword-Singer of Clan Sword-Singer." When he finished, he bowed and, purposefully waved his arm in front of Andorran Krel. Krel grabbed his arm, and twisted it painfully. "Ouch. Why are you like this? Why do you hurt me so much, Krel?" Hadrian said, again sitting to remove his gauntlet. "Relax, Hadrian. It's not broken only sprained." Krel said with a smirk. Hadrian put his good hand on his sword and said "Do that again, and I'll chop your bloody arm off!" Krel just looked at him like he had just said what he wanted to eat.
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Zarkenis Ultima
P2TM RP Mentor
 
Posts: 41895
Founded: Feb 22, 2011
Democratic Socialists

Postby Zarkenis Ultima » Sun Oct 28, 2018 1:16 pm

Pasong Tirad wrote:---

Segral wrote:---

Absolon-7 wrote:---

Turmenista wrote:---

Finland SSR wrote:---


Upon arriving and addressing the group, Frey received a prompt reply from Roxanna, who informed him that there were two members of the party yet to arrive, a Lycan and a monk. Huh... I suppose that means we're covered as far as the frontline goes. He thought, smiling to himself. Between the two people Roxanna mentioned and the Dwarf, he was sure they had a solid front, and the HIgh Elf herself could offer support from afar. That meant he could focus on harassing the enemy from the back, something he specialized in.

In addition to telling him who they were still waiting on, Roxanna had the kindness to introduce him to the rest of the team. He offered her a smile in appreciation and then turned to the first member of the party besides her to address him, one Harald, the Dwarf he had noticed upon first arriving at the city's west gate. Man of few words I see. He thought upon hearing him introduce himself. But of course, the Dwarf then spoke up again upon noticing Gale perched upon his arm. So he's got a thing for animals, then? At least that's one person that won't be bothered by these two.

Watching the Dwarf feed Gale some of his food, a strange pastry he had only seen a few times upon coming to the West, the former pirate smiled. "Good to meet you, Harald." He told the Dwarf as he stretched out his arm for Gale to perch on it again. "He and his brother are a little spoiled, but I assure you they'll pay back the favor if the chance appears." He said, while looking around to see if he could spot Gust flying overhead. Despite their bond, the hawks were fairly independent, so he would often not see them for a while unless he called them.

Shortly afterwards, two more people showed up. The first was a man with white hair and strange weapons, who promptly introduced himself as Simion. "A pleasure to meet you, Simion. I'm a close quarters fighter, as you can undoubtedly tell, but I specialize in stealth and flanking. I hope my talents will be of use in the trials to come."

The second was the monk that Roxanna had mentioned, almost literally a giant of a man, the likes of which he had only sometimes seen out in the Eastern Seas, be it on some barbarous island or a crew that dared stand up to the Maelstrom. He eagerly greeted the other members of the party, but didn't seem to notice him. Frey thought nothing of it, as he hadn't been informed of his addition to the party anyways. If needed, he'd simply introduce himself later. Instead, he paid attention as Roxanna answered the monk's questions. He was not familiar with the layout of the Western Heartlands, so any information he could gleam from the others' conversations would be useful, not to mention this was relevant to their contract, so it was undoubtedly important.

Before long, the last member of their medium-sized party arrived, the Lycan called Luca. Upon seeing the hardtack that he offered the group, Frey grimaced. "I... I'll pass, thanks." He said, taking a bite out of his apple instead. The Lycan and the marksman conversed a little about the nature of their assignment and about their employer after that, and while Frey listened, once more figuring that learning more about these things wouldn't hurt, he couldn't say that he was particularly fascinated. So instead, he approached the High Elf in charge of the party.

"Seems like that's everyone you said we were waiting on, m'lady. Shall we be moving on soon, then?"
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Psychotic Dictatorship

Postby Union Princes » Sun Oct 28, 2018 3:23 pm

Toaslandia wrote:"Greetings, Monk. I have heard of the Way of Steel, but only in drunken gossip. I do hope you will tell me what it is. Anyway, I am Hadrian, a Sword-Singer of Clan Sword-Singer." When he finished, he bowed and, purposefully waved his arm in front of Andorran Krel. Krel grabbed his arm, and twisted it painfully. "Ouch. Why are you like this? Why do you hurt me so much, Krel?" Hadrian said, again sitting to remove his gauntlet. "Relax, Hadrian. It's not broken only sprained." Krel said with a smirk. Hadrian put his good hand on his sword and said "Do that again, and I'll chop your bloody arm off!" Krel just looked at him like he had just said what he wanted to eat.

Image

Witch Hunter Wilhard

"Alright," Strauch stepped in to intervene, "I have quite enough of this nonsense." The one-eyed elder grabbed Hadrian and Kerl by their necks and gave them a sharp squeeze to force them to stop. With a grip that could choke a bear, Strauch stare daggers at the two troublemakers as he looked down with his eye filled with disappointment.

"I'm gonna say this once and not say it again," the old Witch Hunter warned, his words as harsh as steel, "This petty feud ends now."

Strauch then stopped strangling the paladin and knight after he made it clear that this horseplay needs to stop. "If I see this happening again, I'll have a word with the Inquisition and your Clan to strip you of your rank." Wilhard informed, "Believe me, I did once and I can certainly do it again."

Upon seeing a new member, Strauch simply gave him a slight nod as a form a greeting before he backed off from the paladin and knight.
Last edited by Union Princes on Sun Oct 28, 2018 3:25 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby Toaslandia » Sun Oct 28, 2018 3:44 pm

Union Princes wrote:
Toaslandia wrote:"Greetings, Monk. I have heard of the Way of Steel, but only in drunken gossip. I do hope you will tell me what it is. Anyway, I am Hadrian, a Sword-Singer of Clan Sword-Singer." When he finished, he bowed and, purposefully waved his arm in front of Andorran Krel. Krel grabbed his arm, and twisted it painfully. "Ouch. Why are you like this? Why do you hurt me so much, Krel?" Hadrian said, again sitting to remove his gauntlet. "Relax, Hadrian. It's not broken only sprained." Krel said with a smirk. Hadrian put his good hand on his sword and said "Do that again, and I'll chop your bloody arm off!" Krel just looked at him like he had just said what he wanted to eat.

Image

Witch Hunter Wilhard

"Alright," Strauch stepped in to intervene, "I have quite enough of this nonsense." The one-eyed elder grabbed Hadrian and Kerl by their necks and gave them a sharp squeeze to force them to stop. With a grip that could choke a bear, Strauch stare daggers at the two troublemakers as he looked down with his eye filled with disappointment.

"I'm gonna say this once and not say it again," the old Witch Hunter warned, his words as harsh as steel, "This petty feud ends now."

Strauch then stopped strangling the paladin and knight after he made it clear that this horseplay needs to stop. "If I see this happening again, I'll have a word with the Inquisition and your Clan to strip you of your rank." Wilhard informed, "Believe me, I did once and I can certainly do it again."

Upon seeing a new member, Strauch simply gave him a slight nod as a form a greeting before he backed off from the paladin and knight.

Hadrian stared daggers at Krel, who preceded to do the same. "Well Strauch, this feud will stop, but I cannot say the same for the pain she inflicted on me." He rubbed his arm. He sat and leaned back. "Azul ba kalor ta maser val nact." It was a prayer he was taught when he joined Clan Sword-Singer. It means "Let the Sword strike true, let it pierce their hearts." He would need to control himself if he was to stop the feud between Krel and him.
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Postby Absolon-7 » Sun Oct 28, 2018 5:14 pm

Turmenista wrote:Luca Greyfoot
Zarkenis Ultima wrote:Frey

Roxana Ma'gonid


Roxana's internal questioning of Byron's motive by Luca approaching the group and thankfully he had heard everything she said. She quietly sighed in relief as the prospect of retreading what she said disappeared. He seemed ready to go and she peaked at he revealed what he found appropriate foodstuff. Some dry old hardtack. Just looking at it made her teeth hurt but she did have to admit with a bit of water it was better than going hungry. Her food was mostly some rolls of crackers, dried fruit, and a slab or two of slated meat that she kept in a sack on Methuselah. Hopefully, Luca was right about there being better food at Byron's place.

"Thanks for the offer Luca but I got myself well supplied," said Roxana awkwardly and appropriately he was the first to speak out loud the suspicions she was having and Simion gave a well enough response but , "For your question Lucas, he is retired and pretty old now. He's probably still powerful but it'd be embarrassing to have your hip joints slip while fighting, eh? But Simion has a point. It'd be best to withhold judgment until we know more."

"Seems like that's everyone you said we were waiting on, m'lady. Shall we be moving on soon, then?"

The incredibly formal term caught her off guard, which she noticed had been happening a lot today, and made her stand straight up and stop leaning on the bakery's wall. As for leaving it was as good of a time as any. Especially as everyone was supplied and geared up. Roxana enunciated her plans, "M..moving on sounds good. If there's no obstacles we should make it to the camp well before nightfall."

As everyone seemed ready to go, Roxana gathered the motley crew and taking Methuselah by his reins and led the group of Legionnaires through the city's west gate after greeting the guards there. The sun was still high in the bright blue sky and the occasional wagon or passerby was met on the stone-paved highway. Windmills and pastures were right alongside golden fields of wheat that eventually gave out into a crisp greens plains of wild grass as far as the eye could see. The only mark of civilization was the same gray road the small group was traveling on with the occasional few minute break. As such they kept going forward.


As the hours passed and the sun began to creep down but still shined strongly in the sky, the silhouettes of an immense towering sword monument could be seen just right of the highway. It ancient stone carapace sticking out like a sore thumb against the fresh green grass surrounding the rectangular stone building and steps that made the monument's base. Further back, decrepit ruins of old stone buildings overgrown with shrubbery and half buried under dirt could be seen. Further along the dirt dipped down to becoming a large open pit where several devices and mechanisms for moving around could be seen attached to the now exposed buildings in the pit and the bottom of the pit could be seen too with the bottom filled with tents, carts, equipment, and other materials. On the other side of the pit a large camp with a central bonfire could be seen and with several workers could be seen resting, eating, and generally chatting.

Roxana led the group to the camp warning them to stay clear of the pit's edge as the group reached the outer edges of the camp. Immediately they started to attract the eyes of the worker's there with some stopping they're activities to stand up. Roxana looked around worryingly in case something was wrong and was about to speak out when an old looking and well dressed elderly man stepped out of the central tent that was much more lavish then the rest and he briskly walked to meet the group. Bracing himself on his cane he was almost face to face with them once he spoke out loud.

"Welcome! Welcome! All of you must be the Legionnaires I sent for judging by your colorful cloaks," joyfully said the man clapping his hands together once, "Now before I say anything else, I would like each of you boldly say one thing about yourself that you're the proudest of." A large grin filling his bearded face and a twinkle out of his remaining eye.

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Postby Zarkenis Ultima » Sun Oct 28, 2018 6:34 pm

Nuridia wrote:---

Andsed wrote:---

Charmera wrote:---


Fortunately, not long after she had asked her party if any of them recognized the two names from the list, the two people that those names belonged to, siblings by the looks of it, showed up. Naturally, she didn't at first know which of the two was which, but either way, the female quickly explained why they had been absent. Not that she minded, of course; she was only glad that they'd be able to move on sooner rather than later. Hearing the brother address her in a highly respectful manner afterwards, the Snow Elf smiled. "It is good to have you on board, friend. You don't need to be so formal; I value trust and effectiveness more than protocol." She stated.

The sister spoke up once more, and Sylanna turned to listen to her. All things considered, she didn't add much, but the way she addressed her brother said enough. So Alcide is the brother, then? Good to know.

Contrary to her expectations, it seemed that Alcide and Asra wouldn't be the last to join the party for the Red Hill caravan contract, as soon enough three more Red Cloaks arrived. The first was a woman who seemed like she had seen her fair share of trouble despite a humble origin. "Greetings, Lilion. Feel free to join. The contract states no limits for the size of our party, though I worry about whether they'll have enough ducats to pay all of us." The Snow Elf joked. While it might've been a genuine concern for some, it was doubtful that a large company would be unwary enough not to put a hard limit on party size if they lacked the budget to pay for a large one.

The second was another member of the Inquisition, much like Strauch, though one that appeared far less respectful, given how quickly she got into a fight with Hadrian. Sylanna frowned at their behavior, but fortunately the Witch Hunter himself stepped in and separated them. If things got out of hand again, she would have to step in herself, and possibly put in a word with the Legion about their pay, but for now, she would let things be.

The third person to approach was another elf, a High Elf by the looks of it, though certainly one that didn't resemble your average Thapsian. Seeing him bow, he nodded in acknowledgment. "Greetings, Telisaran. I only wished to be acquainted with the people I'll be working on for this contract. We also need to confirm our party for the contract before moving on, and I'll need everyone's signatures for that."

After waiting for a bit more so that anyone else who wished to sign up for the contract could do so, Sylanna took the rather sizable party to the front desk to confirm their party. With that done, she gave out instructions that they would be meeting at the office of the Red Hill company, facing the city of Velathri's central plaza, in twenty minutes. Plenty enough for people to do anything they needed to do, in her mind.

And with those final instructions, the Snow Elf left the Legion hall.



Twenty minutes elapsed, and not one second later, Sylanna stood outside of the office that belonged to the Red Hill company. This time, instead of a simple white dress, the Snow Elf was fully clad in ornate metal armor, finely crafted by the virtuous smiths of Issgard. Her longsword continued to hang from her hip, and in addition, she held a winged spear in one hand, while the other had a steel shield mounted on the wrist; the same hand bore a metal helmet to complete the ensemble, adorned with wings much like her headband, and specially designed to offer her ears protection.

Standing next to her was a significantly less armored man, one who bore the guise of a businessman rather than a soldier. The two conversed amicably as they waited for the rest of the party to arrive, the merchant's friendly smile matching that of the Snow Elf.
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Postby Toaslandia » Sun Oct 28, 2018 6:47 pm

Hadrian listened to what Sylanna said and turned to pay his tab. He reached into his bag, and felt his last ducat. Unhappily, he put it on the table and left to meet up with the group at the Red Hill office. As he was walking, he saw a thug cornering a small child. Hadrian walked up to the thug and said "Pardon me, am I interrupting something?" The thug turned and said "Youz are, now get outta here before I break yo-" at this point the thug took in the sword, armor, and red cloak of the Legion and said "Sorry mister, ain't interrupting nothin." Hadrian tapped his sword and said "Well then, I advise you to leave that boy alone then." The thug nodded and ran off, and after saying thanks to Hadrian, the boy ran off too. "Ah, today's a good day. No more Krel to worry about-" Hadrian was saying to himself when he turned the corner and bumped into Krel, who was also heading to the Red Hill office. They looked at each other, and continued walking in silence. When they arrived, they saw Sylanna talking ti a merchant and decided to walk up to her. "Hello Sylanna. As you can see, we have arrived." Hadrian said, not allowing Krel to speak.
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Postby Union Princes » Sun Oct 28, 2018 6:58 pm

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Inquisitor Strauch


"Your armor reminds me of the Grey Knights of the Inquisition that I fought along side with in the past 42 years, Slyanna." Strauch commented as he approached the Snow Elf and the merchant she was with. Even though the Witch Hunter already spend his time shopping and preparing for his weapons, Strauch went ahead and bought a waist pouch attached to his belt. It was to mainly stuff additional paper and ink to use on this quest.

Glancing at Hadrian and Krel, Strauch gave them a polite nod as he greeted them but his eye quickly caught on to the hidden strife between the two. Idiocy never changes he thought before turning his full attention to the party leader.

"Hello my good sir," Strauch shook hands with the merchant before turning to Sylanna. "Maybe not the Grey Knights, perhaps you remind me of the Sisters of Luna. Himmmmm, its been an awfully long time since I last worked with them."

Besides from the pouch, the Witch Hunter's rapier, falchion, and battleaxe were still for accounted as well as his stamina and healing potion and his spyglass.
Last edited by Union Princes on Sun Oct 28, 2018 7:00 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Postby Confederation of the Equator » Sun Oct 28, 2018 7:35 pm

Vulluin Berryann

Vulluin was understandably concerned about the fact that the party was so suddenly filled with people who were in some way deeply related to religion-related activties, or whatever. Not only that, but also a High Elf joins us... Dammit. Nonetheless, he decided to hang around the HQ for some minutes after getting all of his equipment sorted, taking a look at whatever he could and trying to get himself acquainted to the area, as well as waiting for the 'exotic group' in the party, so to say, to remain at a safe distance. He didn't know anything about their faith, or who they considered heretics, so that was the safe option. Eventually, Vul headed out for the office of the Red Hill company nonchalantly, although eager to get to action.

Somehow, walking out in full gear and with a redcloak did not attract nearly as much attention as he expected, which was quite surprising. After a couple of minutes, Vulluin spotted the tall Snow Elf from before at the distance, as well as a man who looked like a merchant. His greatest surprise, however, was the armor worn by her. Wow, that makes her look like a warrior straight out of legends, or something of the like. Indeed, that powerful presence was something he rarely ever saw, even amongst the High Elves who visited his tribe. Meanwhile, the Wood Elf wore leather armor that was reinforced at some weak and otherwise important spots, although that was more than enough for his needs. Though I never thought about getting something to protect my ears...

Vulluin walked up to the Snow Elf and the merchant, as well as the group that was already gathering. "Hello Sylanna, I'm here." He said, turning to the merchant to shake his hand. "Greetings, I'm Vulluin - or Vul. I'll be with the escort group today." He addressed the duo with a smile, trying to be as charismatic as his race allowed, while still puffing some smoke through his pipe.
Last edited by Confederation of the Equator on Sun Oct 28, 2018 7:36 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby Bentus » Sun Oct 28, 2018 10:28 pm

Yvonne Lafaille


The heavens opened before the duo had even exitted the alley, a deluge of rain falling upon them from above. Wincing at each step, the guardsman’s breathing was heavy and labored, his legs shaking despite most of his weight resting on the shoulders of the Paladin walking beside him. With one of the man’s arms held securely over her shoulders, and her other hand wrapped around his wait, Yvonne had little trouble holding him upright, but she knew better than to pick him up entirely herself. Although it difficult and painful, the act of walking kept the beaten man conscious and awake.

“You’re doing well.” She offered, smiling encouragingly at the wounded man. “It’s just a little bit further, and then you can rest.”

Blinking away some of the rain, the guard grimaced as the aches and pains continued to reverberate throughout his body. The droplets washed away most of the blood that had coated his face, but he could feel his energy slowly leeching away as his soaked clothes began to steal the heat from his body. Glancing up, he squinted to try and figure out where the Paladin was taking him. Narrowing his eyes, he could just make out the appearance of storefronts illuminated by the magic lanterns that dotted the roadside. They were all shut and boarded up for the night, with whatever traffic may have ventured onto the road at this late hour having already sought shelter from the rain. Turning his attention forward, his eyes widened as he recognised one particular store dead-ahead. A small sign depicting a pair of crossed surgical tools waved in the breeze above its entrance.

Pursing his lips, the guardsman shifted suddenly in Yvonne’s grip. “N-no, wait.” He croaked out, clearly uncomfortable with their approaching destination. “I-I can’t afford...I don’t have the money for…” Try as he might, his voice kept trailing off as his vision seemed to darken around the corners of his gaze.

Seeing the man grow uneasy, Yvonne did her best to brush aside his concern with her tone. “Surely your life is worth any quantity of coin? Do not worry about such trivialities for now.”

Unable to formulate a response in his dazed state, the guard remained silent as the pair half-walked, half-hobbled up to the wooden door of the doctor’s office. Reaching out with a clenched fist, Yvonne pounded firmly on the entrance. Almost immediately, footsteps emanated from inside and the sound of unlocking bolts and chains could be heard. Warmth and orange light emanated out from inside as the door was slowly opened.

“Look, we’re closed for the night. Whatever it is, come back tomorrow and make an appoint - by the Nine!” The scowl that had seemed etched into the older woman’s features vanished as soon as she opened the door. She was wearing a simple gown, clearly having just been on her way to bed before she had been disturbed. The surgeon’s jaw practically dropped as she stared at the tall woman and the battered guard in her doorway, both of them drenched by the rain. Yvonne’s eyes met with her own, her brown eyes conveying the urgency of her situation.

Turning her attention to the guardsman, the surgeon sighed as she recognised the brutalised features, although she noted that he must have just fallen unconscious. “Oh Garfield, what the hell did you get yourself into now…” Glancing over Yvonne’s shoulder, the surgeon bit her lip as she considered her options, eventually letting out an exasperated sigh. “Alright, bring him inside...I’ll have to start working quickly.”


“Ow, could you be a bit more gentle around there?”

Garfield winced as the surgeon pressed down on one of his broken ribs. She shot him a deathly glare, immediately silencing any of his complaints with a scowl. The guardsman raised his hands apologetically, allowing her to get on with her work. He was seated in the surgeon’s backroom, buckets of bloody water and rags lying beside him as reminders for the long night that she had just spent putting him back together. Garfield had lay unconscious for most of it, only really regaining his senses in the past hour-or-so to find most of his wounds stitched up and bandaged. By that point, a thin stream of daylight was beginning to slip in between the curtains to help illuminate the interior of the room. With a satisfied sigh, the surgeon leaned back in her chair to admire her work. Wiping away a few drops of sweat from her brow, she felt the fatigue on her shoulders.

“Alright, I’m all done, Garfield. Nothing for me to do now other than give you some time to recover and make sure you don’t tear any of the stitches out before you heal.”

Looking at his bandaged torso, Garfield frowned at the state of his own body. “I..thanks, Lucy, really. I know that you probably think that I don’t deserve your help but -”

The pony-tailed surgeon shot her patient a scowl. “I know that you don’t deserve my help, asshole.” The words stung, and Garfield almost recoiled from the venom in the woman’s words. “If it were up to me, you’d have bled out on that street for the shit you’ve pulled. Constance deserves better than seeing you like this. I’d go as far as to say that she deserves far better than you.”

Averting his eyes, Garfield felt a stab of guilt twist at his chest. “I know that, Lucy. Shit, I nearly died last night, ok? And..Robert..he threatened Constance too. All because I didn’t know when to fucking quit the table.”

Lucy’s eyes widened at the revelation, before her expression hardened. “He didn’t! That bastard.” She paused for a moment, realising that Robert was exactly the sort of person who would stoop to such levels. “I wouldn’t worry though, Yvonne found him still out-cold where you left him. He should be waking up in a cell by now.”

“Yvonne?” Garfield blinked, a look of confusion spreading on his face before he made the obvious connection. “Oh, is that her name? Is she still around? I never got the chance to thank her.”

“Yeah, she’s still around. Stayed up all night helping me with you, actually. You’re damn lucky that she was around to pull you out of the fire, Garfield.”

“I know.” The guardsman’s voice was deflated, his chest tightening as he was painfully aware how close things had come, and how indebted he truly was. Suddenly, a sickening realisation struck him and he looked up nervously towards the surgeon. “Lucy, how much is this all going to cost? I - you know I don’t have much, and I sure-as-hell can’t afford a surgeon and all the medicine, plus the bandages and -”

“Oh shut up, would you? Your knight in shining armour paid me 521 ducats already, so you’re broke ass is out of the woods, sheesh.”

“She did what?” Garfield blinked in surprise. She was a total stranger, and she just paid 521 ducats for him? He hadn’t even known her name until a scant few seconds ago. Either she had to be really loaded, or.... “Wait, did you say 521? I thought your usual rate was 750?”

Lucy sighed in irritation, rolling her eyes as she stood to begin tidying up her equipment. “Yeah, it is. But she only had 521 ducats on her.” The surgeon paused, scowling for a moment at Garfield as he struggled to make sense of what she was saying. “Look Garfield, it seems like you haven’t realised this yet, so let me pull your head out of you backside. Last night, you stumbled on something that’s real hard to come by around here: a good person. When someone knocks on my door at an ungodly hour of the night, cradling a broken stranger while offering me all the money to their name in order to put them back together for no other reason than to help, who am I to turn them down?” Lucy allowed her words to linger for a moment, the implication really sinking in to Garfield. “Someone just showed you some real compassion Garfield, and I for one bloody know that you of all people don’t deserve it. So whatever the hell it is you do next, don’t waste what she’s given you.”

Before Garfield could respond, the door suddenly swung open and Yvonne walked in with a wide smile on her face. She held a bowl of soup between her hands - a thin trail of steam still snaking up from it. Although she was no longer in her chainmail, the Paladin still cut an imposing figure as she towered over both the surgeon and the guardsman.

“Aha, you are awake!” Her voice echoed out into the room, her tone seemingly exuding optimism. “Ms. Lucy said that she expected you up at this time, so I saw fit to prepare this for you both as a token of my thanks. After last night, the pair of you could use it to regain your strength.”

Shooting Garfield a glare as if to reinforce her earlier point, Lucy turned to smile at Yvonne. “Thanks, Yvonne - but if it’s all the same to you, I’m going to head off to sleep. I would like to keep Garfield here for a few more hours to keep an eye on him, but feel free to show yourself out whenever you need to.” Pushing herself to her feet, the surgeon made her way towards the door, pausing on the precipice before she turned to look at Garfield. “Hey, try to be more careful next time, alright?” And with that, she left the pair alone in silence.

Unsure of what to say, Garfield continued to be seated on the bed, his eyes looking down at his knees. Yvonne seemed undeterred by the lack of conversation, casually placing the bowl of soup she had made in front of the guardsman. It wasn’t anything especially fancy, but it was a recipe that she knew to be filling and restorative, which would probably do the man plenty of good in his current state. However, eating was one of the lowest priorities on the man’s mind.

“Look, I - uh - it’s Yvonne, right?” Is there some kind of title I’m meant to use? Damnit, think - how should you address a Paladin! “I mean, Lady Yvonne. Thank you, for saving me back there. And for everything since. Truly, I don’t know how I could ever repay you.”

The Paladin seemed to be taken aback by the sudden offer of thanks, but an amused smile soon appeared on her face as she brushed aside the guard’s words. “There really is no need for you to thank me. I swore an oath to serve the Divines and to help the faithful and the innocent in Their name. If you wish to pay thanks, it should be to Them, not to a lowly servant such as myself. Besides, it kind of comes with the job description.” She offered Garfield a friendly wink.

Suddenly, there was a sound of commotion from outside - a carriage from one of the morning traders passing by on his rounds. Yvonne’s eyes widened as she realised how quickly the hours must have passed. Her contact from the Legion had been explicit in stating exactly how little he was willing to wait for her after the contracts went up. No! I completely lost track of the time.

“I...I am sorry Garfield, but I have to go.” Yvonne frowned, scolding herself for having let the meeting slip between her fingers. It had been no simple matter for her to arrange, and after all her efforts to finally meet the esteemed heroes of the Legion, had the opportunity just past before her?

“W-wait!” Garfield called out, desperately wracking his mind for some way to pay back his rescuer. “Lucy said that you were low on coin. I think I might know where you could find a job. It’s just a simple escort mission for a caravan that I was meant to do, but then this accursed sickness put us all under. The pay’s not bad, although the merchant said he was going to try to contract the job out to the Legion.”

Yvonne froze at the door, her heart suddenly leaping in her chest. “The Legion?”

“Y-yes.” Garfield rubbed the back of his head. “But I’m sure that if I put in a good word for you, the caravan leader would make an exception and take you on as well. If that’s what you want, that is.”

Turning around with a speed that nearly caused Garfield to jump, Yvonne looked at the guard with a glimmer in her eye. Inwardly she thanked the Divines for once again smiling good fortune down upon her and rewarding her faith. “Where?”
- - Bentus
- -
1 2 3 >4< 5
Possible threat.
Forces active in a warzone.
At peace.
Member of The Galactic Economic and Security Organization

NationStates Belongs to All, Gameplay, Roleplay, and Nonplay Alike
Every NationStates Community Member, from Raider Kings to Brony Queens Make Us Awesome.
"Though I fly through the valley of Death, I shall fear no evil. For I am at the Karman line and climbing." - Bentusi SABRE motto

[22:07] <SergalKashra> it's not a matter that i can't think up something
[22:07] <SergalKashra> it's getting thoughts to screen
[22:07] <Avlana_> Oh
[22:07] <Avlana_> Try typing
[22:07] * Avlana_ nods
[22:07] * SergalKashra stabs Avlana_ in the knee

How Roleplays Die <= Good read for anyone interested in OPing

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New Finnish Republic
Minister
 
Posts: 2478
Founded: Mar 30, 2015
New York Times Democracy

Postby New Finnish Republic » Sun Oct 28, 2018 10:30 pm

Edward Brunwulf
The Paean Legion Headquarters





Edward hesitated for a brief moment, but nodded his head at the alchemist's request. He wasn't fond of letting any trace of the goblin camp remaining, but he understood that there was something to be gained if she was allowed to harvest the spores.

"I'll allow it, but don't pick any more than you will need to craft a handful of potions. If even a single one is allowed to develop, it can result in the entire clan being created. Under no circumstance am I allowing that to occur, understood?"

Seeing that she agreed, Edward was prepared to get up from the table when all of a sudden Telsor spoke up and announced he would not participate. Edward's eyes narrowed as he saw the rouge get up from his seat and leave. Looks like he didn't have the stomach for it after all, he thought quietly as he watched as the man began discussing with one of the desk ladies, clearly trying to get himself put off from the group. Better that we find out now rather than later, Edward mused to himself before beginning to sit up from the table, looking the those who remained in the party.

"If you are like him and don't think you can do what this job will require, I'd suggest following him. If not, I'm leaving for the northern gates now. I'll wait for anyone still coming for fifteen minutes, but after that I'm leaving, even if I'm going there by myself."

With that said, Edward got up from the table and left the group.




The sun had slowly but steadily crept towards the center of the sky, a sight that Edward was displeased to see. They had wasted too much time discussing the plans, of which ended up needing to be replaced due to their rouge's departure. As he waited for the rest of the party to join, he couldn't help but think back to what he had said. He knew what he had said had been rather unpleasant to hear, but it needed to be said. He had dealt with goblins in the past before, and he knew personally what could happen should a mistake occur when fighting with them. Roxana would probably tell me I needed to be more considerate, Edward thought as he looked back for a final time towards the headquarters. But she wouldn't have disagreed with me.

He spotted the remaining members of the party walking towards him, their faces showing a sense of eagerness he remembered having once as well. As they approached, instead of speaking he merely just gave them a small nod. If conversing wasn't necessary, he was not going to engage in it. Eventually they would need to discuss the changes to be made about the plans, but for now he merely wanted to get on the move as it was already getting late and they had a long journey ahead.

Without bothering to take another look back, he began walking north.




The sun was beginning to near the horizon once more, only slivers of its light making its way through the dense forests that surrounded them. The sound of rushing water filled the air, a sign that a river was nearby and a strong one at that. If we need to pass though that, we'll have to be careful, Edward noted as the sight of the massive bluff greeted him. The goblin camp would be nearby, which meant that it was time to prepare themselves for what was to come. Edward had planned on walking a bit further, but suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks, holding his hand up in the air to signal for the others to stop as well.

"Traps," Edward said in a hushed tone, pointing towards a line of string hidden merely a few inches above the path they were about to walk along. He narrowed his eyes, looking around the woods. He began to draw his sword out of its scabbard, taking care to not make any unwanted noise as he did. Getting down onto a knee to get a closer look, he examined the trap more thoroughly, noting a pair of spikes hanging precariously above the tree limbs above where they would have impaled anyone or anything unfortunate enough to have tripped over the string. They're not the work of goblins, but neither do they look as if they're the work of a mere hunter.

"Spread out, but don't lose sight of one another. Walk carefully. I doubt this is the only trap that has been set up here," he whispered as he glanced back towards the others.
Known mostly as Finn, but also known as a few other things I can't put in a signature by those who know me.

American who got left too long in the sauna.

Proud to spread Spurdo Nationalism from sea to shining sea.

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Solisian Union
Envoy
 
Posts: 311
Founded: Apr 22, 2018
Father Knows Best State

Postby Solisian Union » Mon Oct 29, 2018 2:02 am

Aaaaaaarialista!



She found a party. To her surprise, she realized how many people were there with a certain Snow Elf waiting for her and other Legionnaires. She smiled as she approached the Snow Elf and greeted her with a simple bow and a greeting in her own tongue "良い一日。Good day, Ma'am."

She did returned to her silence as she looked around and made sure of her fellow Legionnaires. Another woman, someone from the inquisition and another elf. She smiled as she realized there were others who formed this party and was glad to know she was not alone.

After waiting for a bit more so that anyone else who wished to sign up for the contract could do so, Sylanna took the rather sizable party to the front desk to confirm their party. With that done, she gave out instructions that they would be meeting at the office of the Red Hill company, facing the city of Velathri's central plaza, in twenty minutes. Plenty enough for people to do anything they needed to do, in her mind.


At that point, Arialista obeyed, heading out immediately to wait for them at the office of the Red Hill company. Once there, she would be one of the first to come to the snow elf and to the businessman.
Barriga llena, corazón contento.



The art of happiness lies in extracting happiness from common, little things....and the sun! :D

Defend the banner of Sacred Tradition and Guard the Balance!

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Verwood Island Archipelago
Attaché
 
Posts: 76
Founded: Oct 29, 2016
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Verwood Island Archipelago » Mon Oct 29, 2018 2:51 am

Watching Edward, leave Telsor smiled wryly and sipped his coffee. It was a shame, he reflected. It had been a decent team who were working together to formulate a strategy. That was before the blue cloak arrived and rode rough shod over the whole shooting match by insisting on a strategy that, to be honest, was little more than what the team had spoken about anyway. He’d also omitted to think about the shaman. Bizarre.

These things he could have lived with, he’d been around the block enough times to desensitise himself to egos. That was before he nonchalantly mentioned killing children. He tried to make it sound all dark and sinister but basically came across more like an angst ridden goth. Damn, that guy needs to chill a little.

Finishing the coffee he made his way to the registration desk and producing the bottle that Aayla had given him he handed it in and asked that it be returned to the alchemist.

Stepping outside into the sun shine Telsor breathed in the morning air. He turned at the sound of hoof beats to see Ceridwen skilfully manoeuvre her mount into the training ground. Closing the distance between them Ceri slid smoothly from her mount and flashed a smile. “I was hoping to find you here.” The two embraced and then pulled away, “why so?” New job just came into the Messenger’s Guild. Bartholomew the Sage is interested in acquiring a certain chess set originally carved from Ki-Rin bone in the Eastern Archipelago.” “Do we know much more than that?” Ceri shook her head, “other than that it was last seen being purchased at a trading post by a shady looking peddler on behalf of a necromancer located in the Northern wastes. Rumour has it that if a certain series of moves is made an army of the undead can be summoned to do the player’s bidding.” Telsor returned the smile. “Sounds like my kind of thing.”

An hour the two of them sped north on fast horses acquired at the local Messenger’s Guild, the wind in their hair, laughing and feeling alive.

User avatar
Radea
Envoy
 
Posts: 202
Founded: May 15, 2017
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Radea » Mon Oct 29, 2018 10:27 am

Arden Rooke
Red Hill Caravan Company – Gathering area

-----------------------------------------------------------
With a relaxed nod acknowledging the orders of Sylanna, Rooke departed the Legion Contract Hall and made for his assigned barracks to gather what supplies he needed. Arden wasn’t sure if his bunk was small and rickety because he was of red cloak rank or if he just drew the short straw of hay. Regardless, he found his bunk with his belongings hanging off the bedpost or laid on the well-worn blanket. Unlike the others, he didn’t have much in the way of armor, weapons, spellbooks, trinkets, or gear. It wouldn’t take long for him to pack-up. It came with the territory of being a roving laborer of sorts and not from a higher social status. Still, Arden felt like he was blessed to be better off than some folks. The street urchins still roamed.

With a simple shrug of his shoulders to ward off his thoughts, he grabbed the leather strap of his pack and made for the city center.

Arden approached the Red Hill company and his compatriots a few moments passed the plan twenty minutes mark. Punctual, by human standards. On his back was his stuff travel bag, made of brown leather and filled with rations and travelling gear, topped off with a bedroll. Along the small of his back was a sheathed short-sword, the scabbard darkened with age. On his hip swung the oak handle of a forester’s axe, with the axe-head secured against his hip as to not slice his thigh clean open.

He waved at Aylanna, “I’m here.” It wasn’t so much a greeting as a simple reporting-for-duty. The Heartlander human found himself standing next to Vulluin, the elf. He wasn’t sure what kind he was. Arden wasn’t too skilled at telling them apart by a glance. Something about the scout drew him in though. Compared to all the armored knights, Witch Hunters, and Paladins, Vul seemed more down-to-earth, familiar. Rooke felt like a kindred spirit in that regard.

“So,” Arden began, “you think the company expected such a heavily armored turnout for their escort?”
Formerly known as Taber

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Finland SSR
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 14160
Founded: May 17, 2014
Psychotic Dictatorship

Postby Finland SSR » Mon Oct 29, 2018 10:51 am


Simion Valerin, the marksman from Nur!



The travel towards the World's Sword went without any problems - which might be a little surprising, but then again, four hours isn't too long of a trip and the Republic of Velathiri and the city composing it were still nearby. Plus, it was still the day, even if slowly turning towards evening, it would be dumb for thugs or bandits to try to assault a well armed group of adventurers so close to city limits and with little hope for good loot.

And there it is, the huge ass sword in the distance. Simion didn't know what its deal was and he didn't bother asking. He'll have plenty of time this evening, anyway. Roxana lead them towards the camp which had set up shop near a massive digging site, and soon enough, the head of the whole operation, the legendary adventurer Byron approached them, leaving his fancy tent and stumbling up to them with a cane at hand. Obviously, just as you would expect of a man of this age, he looked old and decrepit, but intimidating regardless. Especially with that missing eye.

That's disgusting, you could have at least put on an eyepatch.

Byron's first question was already a challenge - advertise themselves to him, explain one thing which they are the proudest of. Simion was the first to raise his voice:

"Well, I-"

And suddenly stopped for a second.

You know you're heading towards arrogance and you know this is where you should stop. Control yourself, remember what you did, and try again.

The marksman took a breath through his nose and continued:

"I don't think there's much I can brag about, besides this weapon I've been working on, I suppose."
I have a severe case of addiction to writing. At least 3k words every day is my fix.

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Bentus
Senator
 
Posts: 3683
Founded: Dec 18, 2013
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Bentus » Mon Oct 29, 2018 2:22 pm

Yvonne Lafaille


The streets were bustling around the Red Hill company’s office. Traders and merchants plied their walls either from within their shopefronts or from street-side stalls they had erected earlier in the day. Friendly shouts and promises for a bargain mingled in the air as pedestrians and carriages wove together on the busy streets of the Legion’s hometown. Peasants from the surrounding countryside displayed their produce besides forged arms and armour from local smithies, each of them competing for the attention of every passerby who glanced towards their wares.

Yvonne gazed at the scene around her curiously, a thin smile on her face as she strode along the street. Pedestrians tended to step aside as the heavily armoured figure approached, a few eyeing the menacing two-headed axe strapped to her back with an eye of concern. However, most paid her little mind, the residents of the town having become used to the adventurers of the Legion living among them.

“Ma’am, may I interest you in some potions? Best deals on stamina and healing concoctions this side of the Heartlands!” The merchant’s voice boomed out towards Yvonne, a practiced, friendly smile adorning his features. Pausing, the Paladin glanced at the array of bottles lining the man’s table. Seeing that he had managed to grasp someone’s attention, the tradesman began to reel in his potential customer.

“Aha! You must be a well-practiced adventurer, mi’lady to identify my wares as the high quality merchandise that they are.” Picking up a bottle filled with a deep red liquid, the merchant held it out proudly. “A blessed potion of healing imported all the way from the priests of the Free City would be perfect for one such as yourself, if I may be so bold.”

Yvonne looked at the bottle, her interest piqued at the offer. Her potion supplies were running lower than she would have liked, but there was inevitably a problem. Smiling apologetically, the Paladin waved aside the man’s offer. “Truly a fine item, good Sir. But I am afraid that I just parted with my last Ducat. I would hate to waste your time while so many better customers escape your reach.”

The merchant raised an eyebrow, glancing at the woman’s armour and the axe on her back. Really, she doesn’t have any money? He found that hard to believe. Shrugging, the man’s friendly smile returned, recognising a failed-sale when he saw it. “Speaking to a lovely lady such as yourself is never a waste of time. I shall hold onto it for a few more days in case you change your mind.”

Thanking the merchant for his kindness, Yvonne continued on her way, the Company office lying just at the end of the street. As she approached, her eyes fell on a gathering group of cloaked figures standing around the caravan’s main merchant. Feeling her heart elate at finally seeing members of the Legion, Yvonne’s smile widened as she picked up her pace. As she approached the group, the merchant glanced over Sylanna’s shoulder towards her, his eyes lighting up at once.

“Aha, Sylanna. This is who I was just talking to you about.” Gesturing towards the Paladin the man introduced her to the group. “This is Lady Yvonne Delacroix, a Paladin of the Church of the Divines. One of the original escorts contacted me on her behalf this morning for the job.”

Placing a hand on her chest in salute, Yvonne bowed respectfully to the gathered legionnaires. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my Ladies, Sirs.” Standing back upright, the woman soon turned her attention to the figure the merchant had addressed as ‘Sylanna’.

Nodding her head differentially to the silver-cloak, Yvonne offered the ranking legionnaire a friendly smile. “Lady Sylanna, it is an honour to meet a hero such as yourself. I look forward to travelling by your side on this mission and will defer to you as the ranking member of the party.” The Paladin kept her voice level and calm, even if inwardly she felt an excitement bubbling in her chest as she finally go the chance to meet the famed Legion for herself. A casual passer-by may have glanced curiously at the pair of heavily armoured women, both of them seemingly unbowed by the heavy plates weighing down upon their shoulders. But while the elegant and ornate curves of Sylanna’s elven designed armor glimmered in the Sun and was as much a piece of art as a source of protection, Yvonne’s own garb was far more modest. Functional and practical, crafted by human hands, Yvonne’s armour was largely plain apart from a few carved sigils showing her dedication to the Church. A sleeveless white tunic with the red cross of the Divines painted prominently in the middle covered her torso. However, despite the humbler design of the her armor, anyone used to caring for their own set of plates would readily see the painstaking care and meticulous attention that had been paid to cleaning and maintaining Yvonne’s set. She was proud of her armour, and would never think to part with it for another.
Last edited by Bentus on Mon Oct 29, 2018 4:47 pm, edited 2 times in total.
- - Bentus
- -
1 2 3 >4< 5
Possible threat.
Forces active in a warzone.
At peace.
Member of The Galactic Economic and Security Organization

NationStates Belongs to All, Gameplay, Roleplay, and Nonplay Alike
Every NationStates Community Member, from Raider Kings to Brony Queens Make Us Awesome.
"Though I fly through the valley of Death, I shall fear no evil. For I am at the Karman line and climbing." - Bentusi SABRE motto

[22:07] <SergalKashra> it's not a matter that i can't think up something
[22:07] <SergalKashra> it's getting thoughts to screen
[22:07] <Avlana_> Oh
[22:07] <Avlana_> Try typing
[22:07] * Avlana_ nods
[22:07] * SergalKashra stabs Avlana_ in the knee

How Roleplays Die <= Good read for anyone interested in OPing

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Toaslandia
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1314
Founded: Apr 29, 2017
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Toaslandia » Mon Oct 29, 2018 4:32 pm

Hadrian was busily tying to ignore Krel when most of the group arrived. There were some newcomers however, but he didn't greet them. He simply nodded his head in reverence at them. "Krel, I think if we are to be working together, we should stop this petty quarrel." Krel nodded and said "Sure, that's fine." Krel then walked up to Strauch and began talking to him. "So, Strauch is it? How long have you been with the Inquisition? I've been in it for ten years, but I have the feeling that you've been in it longer." She looked at Strauch, waiting for a response, and thinking how great it would be if Hadrian broke his arm on the mission.
Founder of The United Imperial Provinces and proud colonizer of space!

A class 1.181 civilization according to this index

Just a Socialist trying to live in Trump America

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Union Princes
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1015
Founded: Nov 02, 2017
Psychotic Dictatorship

Postby Union Princes » Mon Oct 29, 2018 5:45 pm

Image

Witch Hunter Wilhard

"Yes, I definitely see the Sisters of Luna in front of me." Strauch muttered under his breath as his good eye quickly turned to see another female paladin join the group at the last minute. Analyzing the armor she wore, Strauch showed a slight glimmer of approval at its quality. Nowhere near as high as the Snow Elf's but definitely protective in heavy combat.

Should've brought a helmet along. Wilhard pondered in his brain as he looked on to Yvonne's beautiful feminine face. Young and courageous, this paladin would earn her scars soon enough. The Witch Hunter subconsciously rubbed the spot where is left eye used to be. I need to stop reminding myself of my errors. He cursed at himself in his thoughts.

When Yvonne introduced herself and her church, Strauch simply glared at her at the idea that she was from the Church of the Divine. Despite the delegations sent to Church of the Divines to become part of the Inquisition, the Church of the Divines rather perform a "live and let live" policy between the Inquisitors and the holy warriors of the Church. Strauch, like many other Witch Hunters, spat on the idea that a religious organization would interfere with the laws of state when they should have spend their time sending their paladins on cult exterminations.

Even the Elves and other non-human Witch Hunters took major offense to the Church when rumors flew about that they were discriminating against the Elves.

Toaslandia wrote:Hadrian was busily tying to ignore Krel when most of the group arrived. There were some newcomers however, but he didn't greet them. He simply nodded his head in reverence at them. "Krel, I think if we are to be working together, we should stop this petty quarrel." Krel nodded and said "Sure, that's fine." Krel then walked up to Strauch and began talking to him. "So, Strauch is it? How long have you been with the Inquisition? I've been in it for ten years, but I have the feeling that you've been in it longer." She looked at Strauch, waiting for a response, and thinking how great it would be if Hadrian broke his arm on the mission.


Shook out of his brooding thoughts, Strauch turned to answer. "Well, I was 10 years old when I joined and spent the next 42 years pursing the life of Witch Hunting." Wilhard responded frankly and without any flowery tone, "The first six years of that was simply studying under the School of Defense against the Dark Arts. It was there when I joined the Guild of the twin-tailed Comet and became a master duelist after graduation."
Last edited by Union Princes on Mon Oct 29, 2018 5:45 pm, edited 1 time in total.
There is no such thing as peace, only truce between wars

First RP Ban: YB at 2/21/18

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