In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 4):

Gazes shift toward the sudden nudist, but are drawn back at the crashing sound of 3 men being smashed through a table by a giant of a man wielding a freaklishly long staff.

Uldaf, clearly tipsy

Yer counting cards. You know the rules in this tavern about counting cards. Does Yggy here need to remind you what happens when you try to cheat me?

The man pauses, clearly labroing as he finishes his pontification. He reaches for a wench and a stein, downing them both with ease.

He regains his composure, pressing his staff across the chest of all 3 men.

Now's the part where you say you're sorry and ye run laddies.

I bet they wet themselves.

In reply to Uldaf Asbjorn (msg # 5):

And here I thought I'd be working with professionals.

Brennan's sigh is audible, but he holds his tongue and waits to see how Flynn reacts.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:19, Wed 10 Dec 2014.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 6):

The corner of Flynn's mouth curls up in a wry smile.

Seeing as a hundred leagues includes Elsa here, I'd advise you to keep your boasts to yourself, son.

Elsa herself has her jaw set in what is clearly an open challenge.

However, huntsmen I've seen aplenty, but the longbow is not an easy weapon to master.  If you can bend that with any skill, I may have use of you.

Flynn bits his lower lip.  A gift for tongues too may come in handy.  Some of these farmers north of the Kiln don't speak proper.  You can read, can you?  Flynn's eyes fly to the tall twins the back to Brennan.  Makes no matter, but can't hurt I suppose.  We leave tomorrow at dawn.  Be here and be ready to travel.  Pay will be 6 pennies a month plus food and a small bonus from his lordship.

The large mercenary's attention is drawn to the drunken mountain man and the nudist, the latter of whom is starting to attract the attention of the local guard.

And what dream of Hell is this now?
This message was last edited by the player at 03:17, Thu 11 Dec 2014.

In reply to Flynn Goodall (msg # 7):

City folk. You can always count on them to try and cheat you out of your money with sex, lies, or violence.

Uldaf lets the 3 scared card players flee, shifting his attention toward Flynn and the mercenaries.

Well met lads. Don't suppose you play cards?

In reply to Uldaf Asbjorn (msg # 8):

If the stars are right, Flynn replies casually, though unless you're looking for work, I haven't time at the moment.  You seem to be able to handle yourself if not your drink.  I may have use for a man who can scare the piss out of commoners.

Flynn looks to his crew then back to Uldaf.

Have you anything else to offer besides your stick?

In reply to Flynn Goodall (msg # 9):

Six pennies a month plus board? I can do better than that... but it wouldn't do to question it in front of his men. We'll renegotiate later.

Brennan makes use of Uldaf's distraction by getting a better look at those Flynn inadvertently indicated would be his main redundancies in the mercenary party: Elsa and the twins.

His gaze lingers longer on the former than the latter, and he raises an eyebrow reflexively as he considers what could have scarred the otherwise lovely archer's face and eye socket.

"Don't worry, love," he says with a grin when she catches his eye. "I can settle for being the best male archer in a hundred leagues until we get a chance to trade targets."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:18, Thu 11 Dec 2014.

In reply to Flynn Goodall (msg # 9):

Aye, though most people fortunate enough to see my stick generally don't ask for additional references.

Names Uldaf Asbjorn. Chaos in the north has ripped me from my ancestral lands just outside of Losthelm. When the city into rebellion, the surrounding countryside became an all out battlefield. I was able to fend for myself, but my home and my cattle were not so lucky in my absence.

With nothing left to come back to, and a lust for revenge in my belly, I set out on a quest of mischief and vengeance while I wait for the dainty politicians to finish their petty squabbles and decide who gets the prettiest crown.

I'm a more than capable fighter, survivalist, woodsman, and healer, to say nothing of my dabbling in the alchemical arts.

If there's an opportunity for some extra coin and shaking down some unworthy nobles and commoner alike, I'd love to hear more about it.

The day's looking up!

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 10):

"I never worry," the archer replies turning up her nose.  "But if you step any closer, I'll make sure you're not a male for long."

In reply to GM (msg # 12):

Flynn raises one hand to signal that the discussion is to end immediately.

I can make use of two bows at any rate, no matter the damage to anyone's pride.

He turns to face Uldaf, and gestures to his crew thus assembled.

Lost helm you say?  Well then you certainly are a traveled soul, aren't you?  Here I have Elsa, Jabob and the Katenses.  If you bring your potions and can stitch a slash to the leg, we'll have you with us for sure.

In reply to Flynn Goodall (msg # 13):

Well met indeed.

Now what do we make of the ill-equipped nudist?

In reply to Uldaf Asbjorn (msg # 14):

"I believe the guards will handle it," Brennan shrugs. "Might be interesting to watch."

He frowns.

"If you're into that sort of thing."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 15):

Brennan furrows his brow as he considers the naked man frolicking throughout the town square, debating whether or not he is actually breaking the law and what sort of punishment he might get to see meted out upon the unfortunate individual once the guards catch him.

[Law: 2x8]

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 16):

Uldaf ponders the small genitaled man, but is incapable of coming to a reasonable conclusion as to why such an ungifted man would parade around so publicly and so nude.

[Psychology Fail]

City folk

In reply to Uldaf Asbjorn (msg # 17):

"Like as not some sort of performer," Elsa comments.  "He has the body of a tumbler and there are paint marks on his body."

"Nah," Jacob replies, shifting his javelin to the other hand.  "Like as not he's just funny in the head."
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:08, Tue 16 Dec 2014.

In reply to GM (msg # 18):

The walker doesn't dally in the square long.  He walks with purpose directly into the retial district of the city.

/ooc back from honeymoon!  YAY life accomplishment unlocked.  Essentially I want to play this as you see him walk throught he square and he will come back a few minutes later.  I'll write something up tomorrow (hopefully to introduce myself. /ooc

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 19):

Well, now that that's done, what else did you find Jacob?

Flynn follows the spearman's pointed finger over, then up the large form of a Chal'i islander.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 19):

A poster attached to a pillar catches Titus' attention.  He walks up to it and pulls it down reading it quietly to himself.

Tax collector eh?  He muses queitly.

Folding the paper neatly he looks down at his clothes dirty and torn from years of living on the street.  He reaches into his purse and pulls out a thin penny... half of all of the money he had in the world.

Noone will take me looking like this.  Why did I have to buy that magnesium powder, I could have gotten new clothes for the cost of this. 

He sighs and walks up to an inn.  The innkeeper looks at him with open hostility.

We don't want your kind in here scaring off the customers and trying to beg from people while they eat thei....

The innkeeper tails off at a venomous look from Titus.

I'm here as a paying customer... not much of one but paying nonetheless.

He slides the penny across the bar.

I need a bath.  Nothing fancy, just some warm water and soap.  A towel if you can spare it.  If you need me to work an hour in the kitchens before the bath I am perfectly willing and able to do so.

The innkeeper takes the penny and leans forward whispering to Titus

Go around to the back, I'll let you directly into the kitchen.  You scrub the large kettle out to milady's satisfaction and I will give you a large copper tub filled with hot water, a sliver of soap and a towel.  Don't say anything to me you just walk out to the back of the inn.

Titus nods solemnly and walks out of the inn around to the back.  After a few minutes a grubby woman answers the door bustling him into the kitchens.  She points at a large cauldron used to make stew in the hearth.  The kettle is crusted with lord knows how many days worth of junk on it.

We will use that cauldron to heat your water deary.  She says in a reedy voice.

So make it as clean as you want to be.

Titus smiles and bows.  As you wish milady.

~~~~Time passes~~~~

Titus looks down at the gray water and shutters inwardly.

This never would have happened in the troupe.  I miss them dearly.  For a moment a view of violence and bloodshed clogs his vision.  He shakes his head sending a spray of water around the alley where he was washing. His bone shard necklace thumps solidly against his chest and he smiles.  He kisses it for good luck.

Jaw of Min the artificer... passed down the Blackwell line for generations.

He looks at his disgusting clothes and wrinkles his nose at them.

That will not do at all.

He takes his meager possessions and ties them in a bundle with his old clothes.  Walking naked and confident he goes from the inn walking through the town square towards a tailor with some middling regard.  He stashes his filthy bundle in a bundle out of site.  He walks to the tailor assuming a young noblemans gait, demeanor and voice.

I've been robbed!  He screams as he enters the shop.  The tailor scrapes his way to the front to check the ruckus, seeing what is, ostensibly, a young nobleman in full pique.

I was robbed... by a whore!  She stole my clothes and purse.

He crosses his arms and sits heavily into a chair.

I mean honestly!  I am the SON OF LORD BRAKEN!  I can't go home like this!  Tailor, make me a new outfit and send the bill to my father.

After some brief haggling over price (just enough to make it look real) Titus emerges from the tailor wearing a new green outfit with a cape with lots of pockets in it.  The clothes are sturdy but unremarkable, while not looking a nobleman he is surely a far cry from a wandering vagrant.  He returns to the ally and retrieves his belongings spending several minutes to put everything in its place inside of his cloak.

Then with his new outfit and his face washed for the first time in months he strides confidently back into the square.  Walking directly up to Flynn and Elsa.

My lord, my lady he says flashing his best smile at Elsa a mere upward tick of her lips shows that she has noted his smile.  He bows deeply.  Allow me to introduce myself...

He pause for dramatic effect.

Titus Blackwell.  At your service.

He notes the glint of recognition in Elsa and Flynn's face.

Ah! I see you have heard of me.  That will save a lot of meaningless explanation.  I would love to join your party as opportunities have been... lean here.  He shoulders the lute on his back.

I'm certain that many of the good folks in the country will not be... overly pleased to see the tax collector.  That being said, maybe with a quick song or some juggling we could avoid fighting and bad feelings alltogether.

Besides...

He says surveying the grim group before him

While all of these men look perfectly capable in a fight, it is best if we can do our job quickly, and cleanly.  No fighting is the best fighting.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 21):

Flynn frowns deeply and raises one eyebrow at Elsa.  The archer returns his concerned gaze.

A performer you say?

He looks over Titus' clothes.

Odd, I'd have taken you for a lordling, but that explains it.

Flynn casts a glance toward where earlier he'd had the opportunity to view Titus sans clothes.  His face makes clear that he will never speak of it again.

Can't say I've a particular need for juggling or music.  Our task is to collect coin from those less than eager to part with it.  There may be fighting aye, but intimidation and the threat of fighting may serve well enough.

Flynn thumbs the hilt of his sword for a moment.

Tell you what lad.  We're headed where men may not have seen a... man of your talents in quite some time.  Might be you can make money along the way and in the towns as we go about our business.  I'll offer you soup enough to keep your belly full and protection from bandits and what have you, in exchange you entertain me and the company.

Who knows, if you're good enough some might see fit to chip in for a retainer of some sort.

In reply to Flynn Goodall (msg # 22):

You are too kind sir.  Titus bows deeply.

I'm certain you will find that I am the best you will ever meet, and of more use than you initially believe.  Men unwilling to part from the coin may do so if they see the benefit and reason in doing so.  I was born into a troupe, I am not some ragtag performer.  I was raised on the stage. 

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 23):

Brennan casts an calculating look in Titus's direction.

Arrogance like that is enough to get you killed... unless you can back it up. We'll see how the "lordling" handles life on the road.

After a moment, he waves at the performer and smiles.

"The more, the merrier, particularly if they can carry a tune," he says to Titus. "Tell me, do you know the Requiem of Two Dreams? I would be glad to teach it to you if you do not. It is a beautiful song, steeped in an inconvenient truth."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:38, Thu 18 Dec 2014.

WHAM! "Eight..." WHAM! "Nine..." WHAM! "Ten." WHAM! "Ten! I said ten!"  the hawker practically leapt over his sawhorse, now covered in the remains of a few raze snails and a multitude of hammer dents.  "I think your friends are looking for you, go break their livelihoods," he waved toward the center of the square as Jacob pointed at Enrei through the small bubble the crowd had formed either to avoid the foreigner, or his borrowed hammer.

"Oh!  Thank you.  You have very fun," Enrei replied, oblivious to the man's distress and leaving him to wonder if the experience was worth the three pennies he'd earned.  Enrei walked toward Flynn and his crew as Titus made his introduction.  He didn't quite understand Flynn's business proposition to the performer, but he waited patiently until the larger of the two turned to consider him.  Then he smiled, people like it when you smile.

"Hello!  I am Enrei.  This man," he trusts a finger toward Jacob, "says that I can be mercenary, but first I must talk to man in charge."  He claps his heafty hands on Flynn's shoulders and smiles even wider, "You are man in charge, yes?  I am mercenary now!"

"That's not quite," the spearman tries to clarify the proposition that had brought Enrei along with them, but couldn't stop the islander from pulling Flynn into an embrace that lifted his feet off the ground for a moment and cracked most of his lower back.

"I will be very good at mercenary," the dark-skinned giant states upon releasing his new employer, "Thank you very much."  He pauses for a moment, before something occurs to him, "What is your name?"
This message was last edited by the player at 17:59, Thu 18 Dec 2014.

In reply to Enrei Omal'i (msg # 25):

A wonderful choice.

He smiles broadly, unshrugs his lute and begins to play the song, when he sees Enrei walk up.  His playing drops lower and lower so he can listen as the large man begins to speak to Flynn.  When the large islander picks up the band leader a grin splits Titus' face so wide you can see his molars.

He keeps his mirth to himself but leans over to Brennan he continues to pick out the melody.

I like him.  He's going to be great fun. 

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 26):

"Agreed," Brennan says to Titus quietly. "Large but friendly, and clearly from out of town. I wonder what customs he has and how they differ from our own..."

This last bit is clearly rhetorical, after which he smiles as Titus plays and hums quietly along.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 27):

It's nice to see you with color in your cheeks and clothes on your body lad. Based on your previous display of prowess, I was worried you'd been stricken with hypothermia.

It seems we've assembled a band of misfits Master Flynn. What's next?

In reply to Uldaf Asbjorn (msg # 28):

OOF Flynn lets out as the big Islander lifts him off his feet.  Though surprised, he does a decent job of recollecting himself and maintaining his professionalism.

So YOU'RE the Chal'i they told me about?  Well then.  I think that even if you cannot fight half as well as you can hug, you'll scare the pants off the yokels well enough.

Flynn massages his shoulder joint and watches Enrei's bobbing smile.

Yes, I believe you could crush a man if need be, but maybe they'll think you some sort of foreign bear and leave their gold on the ground.

Anyone paying close attention will notice one corner of Elsa's mouth curls up slightly at this jest, but only slightly.

At any rate, if you'll use those arms in my service, you'll have food, lodgings when we get them and six pennies a month, plus a small percentage of the taxes collected when it suits Lord Gent.

Flynn signs "eating" and rubs his fingers together when he discusses pay just to make sure the Islander gets the message.

Lord Gent, he clarifies, is the man paying us, and the man whose money we will be collecting.