Chapter 1: It Always Starts in a Tavern....

[Lythania So Mephgour]

The Heavyhand

Erick judges each of member of his audience, looking for signals as to what they may be thinking, when the pirate woman asks him a few questions. He looks the girl straight in the eye as he says

As I said before, vast sums of money will be given to you when you can prove to me that this man is dead. For some of you, that may be all the reward you need.

The pale elf begins a rant, insulting Erick's skills as an investigator. The heavyhand's Retort is swift and merciless.

Do you honestly think that i would give all information to every piece of slime who has come to me? No. I at least want an answer as to whether or not they even want to chase this villain. Besides that, there is one among you who could find my murderer quite easily with even less information than i have given you, but you spout your mouth with ignorance before you know what is going on. I suggest you sit tight fool, and tell me whether or not you even want to follwo this fiend before you have the audacity to question my abilities.

The Dwarf then sputters out a string of words, and for some unexplainded reason, The Heavyhand understood everybit of it.

Honorable warriors indeed, the Leadfists may be. Thus I am certain that you would increase your honor by destroying this man who kills innocents on whims. You need not accept the money, but I am sure that it could not hurt your financial standings.

With a final glare at the elf, The Heavyhand sits back, awaiting The priestesses reply

Nobody is beyond redemption.

- Lythánia

[Kain Cristar]

Do you honestly think that i would give all information to every piece of slime who has come to me? No. I at least want an answer as to whether or not they even want to chase this villain. Besides that, there is one among you who could find my murderer quite easily with even less information than i have given you, but you spout your mouth with ignorance before you know what is going on. I suggest you sit tight fool, and tell me whether or not you even want to follwo this fiend before you have the audacity to question my abilities.

Kain finds a calm lace where he can not kill everyone in the room. It takes some work, but he is about to thwart his darker lusts. Rather than blast the insolent youth to smouldering dust, the elf simply touches the massive hilt which rises over his left shoulder. This seems to soothe the magus enough that he is able to reply.

I find your lack of faith to be.... discomforting. You must simply realize that my wishes are grounded in the realm of the logical. I would not wish to invest my time and energies in a listless chase into the abysses of chaos and grime. If you can assure me that there is a greater amount of evidence and information relating to the aprehension of this sociopath I will surely aid you. You are indeed speaking to an experianced hunter of those choosing the nether path.

Something inside him felt dirty, as if he had physically been soiled from stooping to indignancy of explaining his motives to a human.  

You have lived a life of cruelty and atrocity, you have bathed in the blood of the innocent, you have considered every act of depravity and your corruption knows no bounds. I am the angel of justice, I am the accumulation of all of your sins. Prepare for your redemption.

-Kain Cristar, Divine Aspect

Edited by: Lythania So Mephgour at: 4/27/06 4:05

[Lythania So Mephgour]

The Heavyhand

Erick takes the Elf's answer with a nod, as he waits for the others to tell him their intentions.

Nobody is beyond redemption.

- Lythánia

[Synder Nytefall]

The pirate’s shyness began to fade as the foreboding elf, Kain, began to address the guardsman. Burgundy eyes narrowing a bit as the mage spoke of hunting others through Nether Regions. A whimsical grin pursed upon glossy ginger lips, as Synder attempted to not giggle loudly at the elf’s saga. The man spoke of nether regions and such but the swashbuckler truly doubted the man had ever witnessed the screams of those in the waters being devoured by sharks.

Standing aboard a vessel as the fading rays of Injera washed over a field of water mingled with crimson and highlighted by the death cries of those unable to escape. Blinking quickly, the elf realized she had been taken back to these horrid times by the man’s bantering. The elf can spin a grand fable; need to have a few flagons with him and the dwarf one evening to see what tales they can tell.

Reaching out a gloved hand the buccaneer patted the guardsman’s forearm flippantly before coming to rest carelessly there. “I wo’ld b’ most hap’y ta aid ya.” The other gloved digits rose to tilt the brim of her flowing hat, lifting it a bit. The gleeful smile upon her delicate features merged with the mischief dancing in the fiery depths of burgundy eyes. “I am st’k wit ya lan’lub’ers for a goo’ bit. An a few pieces a’w’aer neva hurts a gurl.” Delicate hands returning to respite once more upon the surface of the oaken table, fingers spread wide in a fanlike pattern. “Jus not ver’ry sur’ why it b’ ya need a performer, bu I’d b’ helping ya if ya need me sir.”

Burgundy eyes studied the others intently as they scanned slowly over them. A glee filled smile unwavering over supple lips as she anxiously awaited the others responses to the guard. Booted feet in constant motion below the table belying the young elf’s anxiety, yet giving testament to those observing such trivial things, a glimpse of how limber the young elf was.

.  

(¯`•."If there's a man among ye, ye'll come out and fight like the men ye are.".•´¯)-Synder's CD

Edited by: Synder Nytefall  at: 5/8/06 3:55

[Kain Cristar]

Kain breathes the wild growl of a storms first thrashing squalls. The afront was beyond contemplation, it was simply inconcievable. His fists slowly clench and release with a violent passion, as he imagined crushing the youth's windpipe between his fingers, and watching his short life ebb into the winds. If it were not for the stiffled giggles which rose softly from somewhere beyond his shoulder, he would have begun summoning something unpleasent to unleash on the gaurd. Instead he listens to her join the human's hunt. Now he had little choice. He would not allow the girl to get herself killed chasing a homicidal psychopathic.

With grunt he allows all the tention to fall from his body, as if blown away by a wayward breeze.  My services will be made availible to this man hunt. He feels all the more dirty now. Every part of his body is covered in an oily shame.

You have lived a life of cruelty and atrocity, you have bathed in the blood of the innocent, you have considered every act of depravity and your corruption knows no bounds. I am the angel of justice, I am the accumulation of all of your sins. Prepare for your redemption.

-Kain Cristar, Divine Aspect

[Monty Leadfist]

"Honorable warriors indeed, the Leadfists may be. Thus I am certain that you would increase your honor by destroying this man who kills innocents on whims. You need not accept the money, but I am sure that it could not hurt your financial standings."

Monty sets his intense, wavering eyes on the guard for a long moment, oblivious to the happenings and speakings of those around him. A compelling argument had been made, but something dosen't settle well with the weathered adventurer. Brushing absently at the coarse, bristling beard with dirt caked gloves, the dwarf appears to be thinking passionately about something, the faint shadow of anger on his face that appeared persistently whenever the dwarf fell into thought. At length, Monty opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted by the upstart young woman's acceptance to the challenge.

Concern ripples through Monty's features, and for a brief moment a charicature of compassion finds itself on his face before being dashed away by the usual coarseness inspired by the battlehardened visage. This young woman, her eyes ablaze with spirit and respectable intoxication, is a firm representation of women, and Montgomery feels an almost paternal inclination towards her. She is a rare breed among the non-dwarven races and that was something to be respected and preserved.

Stiffening his resolve, Monty slams a fist into his skull. The metal plating on his gloves rakes against the engraved helm, emmenating a shrill clang. "Aye'rt! I'nna cannalahng, behbekeppinyeboodles tann'heyeselfmate!" he cries, rocking his head backwards and laughing heartilly, mangy dreadlocks knocking loose from his helm and whipping wildly about him as his shoulders shake with throws of unprecedented laughter.

[vepier]

He stumbles into the tavern bloodied and bruised with a grerat gash across his face and dagger in his stomach. anyone here an apothocist...he faints.

[Kareesh Valendar]

OOC: Vepier, you need to first need to have your character approved and you need to ask permission to first enter the story.

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