Shu's Quest

[mr_e_s]

Stark

So that was the game, trading answers, shot for shot. Stark would be careful with his questions then. And more careful with his answers. If he wanted to get something out of this exchange, he'd have to answer the questions satisfactorily, but not over-answer. If there was a follow-up question, he didn't want to have answered it before there was a chance to ask it. With that in mind, he thought about what to say on the subject of his arm. "We were in the local arena of Alabaste, fighting the current champions. After we won, this guy shows up and hurls a lightning bolt at me. I'm not gonna lie, I didn't see it coming. He clipped me here, and things got kinda fuzzy. I remember Elti-... Eisig showed up and saved me... again. Him and this other guy, they had a big duel or something, and when I woke up, the lightning hurler was dead and Eisig was gone... again."

That was probably more then he needed to say, but breaking rules he made for himself seemed to be a recurring theme of his life.

"Now, what I want to know is, What is this group you and Eisig are both in? How many members does it have? Is it just a social thing or is there some grand purpouse to it all?" Stark was actually kind of offended he had never heard about this group until now. He counted Eisig among his closest and dearest friends, and there was this whole second life that he... Stark couldn't think about it right now, it just wasn't a healthy train of thought.

And right then, a guy with short black hair sat down at the table and acted like he was invited to the gathering. Stark took not of the fact that this guy was a bit bigger then him, both in height and muscle mass. It took a few seconds for it to sink in that this guys armour was similar to Drin's, and that his arms were different somehow. There was no way though... Unless Drin was a really really good prosthetic guy. "A friend of yours?" Stark asked coldly, still not too happy with the intrusion into his chance at some kind of resolution.

Whistler

Beaker, he has a sense of humour. Most docs don't. They're all about their craft or saving lives or whatever it is they do, and I guess Beaker is too. But he don't mind taking the time out for a nice dinner, to hang with the boys, as it were. I always kind of liked that about him. Not at first, you know, at first I was pretty made at him, for what I'd hope are obvious reasons. A guy's gotta grow, gotta move on though, you know? I did, too. I got over my own bullshit, I accepted it was an accident, and I moved on. Speaking of moving on, though, I decided not to ask Free what was in the vial, cause you know, it'd have probably been something I wouldn't have understood, and he'd hav egone on and on about it. I don't have to make faces like I pretend to care, but I can't just slip out of my clothes and walk away to go drain the lizard or something either. So there I am, enjoying this fine piece of boar, nursing an unrelated wound, and doing my best to have a non-sciency conversation with Beaker.

I tell a few stories to keep the focus on the interesting end of the spectrum, and before you know it, I got the whole place riveted as I tell 'em about the time I fought this deadly group of thieves that had this magistrate's daughter held captive., have you ever heard that one, by the way? I was walking through the forest one day when I hear a scraping that I knew all too well as the sounds of a prisoner scratching at the walls of their cage, but I think to myself, there's no buildings around, maybe it's just a squirrel who locked himself out of his tree, and then-okay okay! No need to get pushy about it, I'll get back to the other story.

So anyways, the owners are so happy with my story telling that they offer us the meal free of charge, adn ask me if I'll come back again and tell them the tale of the mermaid's of Abercorn Cove. But Beaker (pretty rudely, I might add) declined for me, saying I had important affairs to attend to and wouldn't be in Corthrone much longer and all those things that are pretty good reasons but suck right then and there. So we get out and start walking the streets that weren't there when we walked in, and it finally hits me that he asked what business I had with him. "You didn't know?" I said, a little more surprised sounding then I actually was. Not cause it wasn't surprising, but emotions don't come as easy as they used to, I find it helps for me to emphasize 'em more'n I feel 'em. "The four of us are all here to gather info for the mucky-mucks. Apparently one of the guys in another cell took this cube thing and we all want it back or something, and there's a chance it might be here. Some other guys have been sent to other places around here too. It's a like a convention in this part of the country right now. If we spot this guy, whose apparently missing an eye and pretty banged up besides, we're to drop whatever projects we're on and make that priority one or something. Personally I'm not too interested, but if I do see him, I'll go to town and get this thing. Could be promotion worthy."

I know, I'm an idiot sometimes.

[rn7]

"Interesting, am I to assume this one-eye thief has something to do with what's his name again... Siege? I forget. If it is that operative from the magic cell, then the coming encounter may be a tinge, how should I say... intriguing? I did perform an experiment on one of the members, after all." Free continued walking along the winding streets, contemplating his next move. Every now and then he would browse a store, not fully paying attention to the merchant or the products, and never really bothering to buy anything.

"I loathe scavenger hunts, don't you, Tim? I would rather not exert myself needlessly chasing after some vague descriptions and then burdening myself with the task of having to convince such a criminal of the lack of worth of his little trinket. Let the others chase the smoke trails in the middle of an inferno. I, on the other hand, would rather have them come to me. I do recall that one of the members of the cell has family, a daughter. It's not the earth tosser-- far too young-- and neither the electric rod, don't bother looking him up. Tim, if you would be so kind, find where this daughter is. I believe then we can find an appropriate course of action. Ah, my apologizes. From one scavenger hunt to another. Inescapable, really. I suppose we could brush off the entire thing and take a vacation of sorts. The organization is beginning to wear on me."

Free stopped at a ceramic vase shop, filled with all sorts of expensive and fragile decorations. Seeing the opportunity, Free got out a handkerchief, wiped a vase to shining, perfect reflection, and then went to work on his teeth, brushing and cleaning with the skill and precision of an automaton. He then spit out the paste on the ground, covering it up with some dirt. Free grinned at the very confused merchant, then put on his breathing apparatus.

"Very nice vase."

[Purg]

Drin suppressed a small frown when Andrew arrived - he had hoped to not be disturbed while he had this trade of information, but, unlike some other cells, there was really no way to communicate with his fellow members, other than in person. He nodded to Stark. "Friend and comrade. Stark, this is Andy - also known as Cog. Andy, this is Stark - a friend of Eisig. I'm not sure if you've ever met him, but he's a good friend, and a dependable man." He called the waitress over, pointing her towards the new arrival. "We're discussing him, actually - it's been so long since I've seen him, and Stark says he saw him recently. You're free to sit in, if you'd like, and our guest doesn't mind - I imagine Free and Tim are elsewhere, and this city has been so difficult for your work."

Now that introductions were out of the way - he hoped Stark wouldn't be too upset with the interruption, but, really, there was nothing Drin could have done about it - it was time for another round of information. This would be a tricky one, but, luckily, he had answered this one to others whom he didn't want to lie to.

"The group we find ourselves in is... expansive, to say the least. I've no idea the number involved in it, but we're somewhat exclusive, and reclusive, as well. Many of us have some talent or ability that makes us special - my knack with machinery, Andy's clockwork skills, as you've no doubt noticed by now, and, something you're obviously aware of, Eisig's magical prowess. There is a purpose to our movements and groupings, I believe, but rare is it that we know anything about it - believe it or not, but Andy and I are simple rank and file for our business. Eisig, on the other hand..." He smiled. "He was once given a chance at leadership, the ability to oversee everything, to truly know what we were working for." Memories of the old days, some as distant as his youth, flooded his mind as he paused for a drink.

"He turned it down, of course," he continued, his glass empty. "It would've been a tremendous increase in responsibility for him, and his daughter was - is - still growing, so I don't think I can blame him. The hassle of the job is evident to all of us - it's been far too long since I've seen my own children."

"I hope you can forgive my not knowing everything you want an answer to, but there's really only so much I'm allowed to know. Now, I suppose it's my turn to ask another question?" He thought for a moment, analyzing what he had been told and what he said himself. "You said Eisig saved you again in Alabaste. I take it, then, that he's saved you before. Has it been recently as well? Or is it, like my own encounters with him, years ago, clouded by memories?"

~-~

Dom shrugged back. Unlike his conversational partner, he couldn't speak well without his words. "I have no idea." He was already certain that this city wasn't the place for him, and he could imagine that the others - or most of them, at least - agreed. And he certainly wouldn't mind traveling with them again. He could trust them - most of them - and depend on them in the event of combat, and assumed that they each had knowledge about the world that he lacked. He supposed he had an answer, then.

"As long as it takes to find something better. Whether that has me stopping before or after the rest of you, my journey will go on until I reach the end."

He vaguely wondered if that made any sense without the context of his thoughts.

[lunarAegis]

Jeph.

Jeph stared off in such a way that made it evident that he totally got what Dom was saying. He then finished off his loaf of bread, and opened the skin of mead. He took a swig, and then held it out in offering to the rest of the present company.

[CATS]

"Why thank you, kind sir!" Lyle exclaimed, taking a deep drink of the mead. His favorite things to do were get money and spend it, but drinking was a close third. In fact, he often combined the three, or tried to at least. Getting drunk made it easy to forget that he was a weird human-rat hybrid which most people found disgusting, that he wasn't much good at anything he tried, that he had trouble forming friendships or lasting relationships of any kind, that he was always out of a job and therefore out of money, that his fuckass cousin would always be better than him at everything ever and never stop reminding him of it, and yeah Lyle decided it would be best to think about something else now.

That meant it was back to coming up with ways to get money, then. Lyle had made a decent amount hawking this crap, but he was a bit tired of that routine. Really, he was a bit tired of making money. It was so damn hard, and that Klints fellow had been nice enough to throw a pile of it at him. Wouldn't it be easier to just go spend the money somewhere? Forget about trying to do something and just enjoy himself for a little while? That wouldn't be irresponsible or impulsive at all. Hell, he had earned it. The way he had played that Klints sucker, it had been a master-stroke, an outpouring of his manipulative skills. That guy wouldn't have given that money to just any random stranger, would he? Surely not. Lyle had earned it, fair and square, and now he would reap the rewards of his efforts.

"Hey guys, this is boring as all hell. I have a ton of money here, wanna go get drunk and find some hookers? For you guys, I mean. Me, I actually have this horrible physical deformity that I have to hide, not sure if I told you guys about it yet. There was this fire or something when I was a kid, I was little, I don't really remember. But yeah I have it. So no hookers for me. So anyways. Want to?" Lyle asked the rest of the group.

He was already getting excited about the idea of robbing these chumps blind while they were all passed out later.

[SuperFush]

So this was Corthrone? It was...very different, but exciting in a way. It certainly wasn't anything like...well, like anything, really, since most cities don't move around too much, but Yuki didn't have that sort worldly experience, so she just thought of it as being nothing like Carthica. For one thing - she sneezed - it was certainly much more dusty. Her clothes were just getting filthy. It wasn't too hard to wash them - her father had taught her a nifty little spell just for that sort of thing - but it was such a pain. Oooh, hey, that jewelry stand had some pretty interesting stuff, maybe she should check that out...

She probably stood out a bit in the crowd. Not many girls there were only five-four but still clearly matured beyond what would be considered "a child". For that matter, not many people in this area of the world had pale blue hair, either. On the other hand, she was barely visible in the crush of people, so she didn't stand out much anyways. It was a thought that irritated her. She liked standing out. She deserved to stand out. After all, not many girls so young were posessed of such incredible charm, grace and mag - she blinked as she found herself lying painfully on the ground, having tripped into someone else walking along the streets.

"Oof! Watch where you're going, you big oaf!"

She struggled to get up, but failed. After taking a few second to recover her wits, she realized that this was in fact because the boy she had tripped into was sitting on top of her. And his hand...

"Gah! Pervert!" She grabbed her stick/staff/wand (she refused to ever call it a rod) and bashed the guy over the head with it. Hard.

[CATS]

"No responses? Fine. Fine! You know, I thought you fellows were a pretty swell bunch, but you're starting to make me change my mind. Do you guys always sit around and stare at each other like this? Don't you know how to have a little fun?" Lyle said, in his usual manner of talking to himself at least as much as he was anyone else. He was used to being self-absorbed and also used to people not caring what he said, so it was a bit of a habit. One advantage of being frequently disliked, it left him free to say whatever the fuck he wanted to, because he had nothing to lose by doing so.

"I'm going off to get drunk by myself, then. You fellows stick around and guard the merchandise, I guess."

With this final comment, Lyle disappeared into the crowds to find a bar. Lyle was somewhat edgy about leaving these guys with his stuff, but really, they had proven to be a trustworthy lot so far. He could at least say that much for them. Lyle moved through the moving streets, quickly getting lost in the commotion and shifting of tents, but he didn't care. He wouldn't remember where he was anyways when he woke up after a session of blackout drinking. Drinking in Corthrone was gonna be especially interesting, odds were that he'd pass out at the bar, then wake up in the open after the place moved itself while he was out. Lyle soon found a tent-bar and hopped inside.

There were some strange-looking fellows in here, in particular, some guy with berserker-style armor, accompanied by another man with some weird-looking arms. And was that Stark? This looked like a pretty shady conversation. Maybe they were dealing in illegal substances? It might be good to get in on that while he could, but then again, even Lyle knew that most illicit businessmen responded negatively if you barged in on their dealings, and by "respond negatively" Lyle obviously meant "they'll probably kill you." Either way, he would remember to keep an eye on that Stark character. Maybe he and his buddies weren't so upstanding after all.

Lyle got a seat across the room from Stark & his weirdo friends, he didn't want anyone to think he was spying on them. He then ordered a drink and got started. Lyle managed to take two sips before he decided to scam someone. After all, it was a bar, people would be drunk, therefore they'd surely be gullible. Hm......

---

Lyle soon came running back to the group, closely pursued by two heavily armored men. His pursuers seemed able to part the crowd before them, wielding their authority like an invisible broom to sweep bystanders aside. Soon enough there was a large open circle around Lyle, his buddies from Alabaste, and the two pursuers. Business continued as usual, no one stopped to watch the unfolding drama; the business simply made sure to give the drama a wide berth. No one wanted to interfere in paladins' work, lest they be accused of obstructing justice.

"Turn yourself over and accept your judgment, criminal," one of the paladins said.

"N-no, you don't get it! I told the guy, fair and square, I was gonna make his coins disappear! Th-that's the whole point of a magic trick, don't ya see?" Lyle stammered in response.

"Where is the money?"

"I told ya, it disappeared! It was a magic trick, what did you expect?!"

"Fair enough. Given that your life is forfeit regardless of whether or not you comply with our demands, I cannot blame you for continuing this charade. I suppose we will simply have to retrieve the coins from your corpse."

"No, no, don't do that! Look these guys are my friends, you can ask them. I'm totally honest and I would never cheat someone! Right, guys?! Right?!? You guys even saw me do this magic trick before, right? Hell, these guys even helped me come up with it! They'll vouch for me!"

"Really? These people assist you in your deceptive arts? It seems there will be more than one body to clean up, then."

"What?! You've got to be kidding me! Man I fucking hate paladins! Alright, you fuckers, bring it on!"

The two paladins raised their swords & shields in the general direction of Lyle and his friends, then began to advance; Lyle drew out his rusty shank, and managed to feign bravery for about half a second before darting behind his companions, curling up into a ball, and quivering. Lyle sure hoped his pals were feeling tough, these paladins weren't on the level of his cousin by any means, but they would be dangerous opponents nonetheless.

[rn7]

"Totally, Mr. Caravan guy! Let's go get wasted and get some hookers!" Fargo pranced off in no direction in particular, then realized he forgot one very important thing. "Oh! How did I forget! I spent all my money already! Including the money I made here shoveling some really smelly goop. Could you spot me some change, caravan guy, you ol' kidder you?"

"And don't worry, Mr. Caravan Guy! Pay 'em enough and they'll do anything!" Fargo eagerly nudged the side of Lyle with his elbow, giving a big toothy grin and dancing an jig, something similar to a kid who was paralyzed on one size and having a seizure on the other. Lyle seemed to be hiding or some such thing, why would he do something like that? Oh, that big ol' kidder.

"Oh hey, look paladins! Hey, Howard, is that you, you ol' kidder? What's up?"

[Purg]

First Jeph, and then Lyle offering drinks, and the second man attempting to sweeten the deal. Something about the idea of drinking (or getting hookers) didn't appeal to Dom right now, though - like maybe they should be doing something more important. He couldn't think of anything, though - he had already seen the market, and either didn't have enough money to buy what he wanted (and didn't want to impose on the others), or the things he could afford didn't interest him. He thought about making another round through the shifting streets, until Lyle's return put a damper on that plan, two armored brutes chasing after him. And now he was expected to assist him, after his life was put on the line?

It didn't matter. If he left Lyle to die, it would simply be a precursor to his own death to the servants of whatever god they believed was right at the time. He wasn't sure what the consequences for fighting in the city would be - it probably wouldn't be much better than simply submitting to the paladins - but he could always have the chance to flee if he could incapacitate the knights. He had his doubts that he'd make it that far, but that didn't stop him from stepping forward, drawing his stilettos from his belt - the belt given to him simply because he was a champion. He had taken down an armored foe with less helpful weaponry yesterday - two, while he was fully armed, shouldn't be much more trouble.

"It seems there's a misunderstanding, gentlemen," he said calmly, taking steady steps towards the men. He wondered if they were used to their intended prey approaching them so carefully, instead of shrinking back and begging for their lives. "I've done no wrongdoings since I've entered this city, and yet you threaten my life. I'd prefer to keep my record clean, but when the choice is between a good name and death... Well, I'm no idiot, I'm afraid."

He sidestepped a lunge from the smaller knight - not that he was much smaller, his armor was just less imposing, probably a lower rank than his companion - and stepped towards the man, thrusting one of his daggers at the man's neck, just underneath the helmet. Rather than stabbing, he pulled up, satisfied to see the helmet pop off with little resistance - if there were straps holding it on, they certainly weren't very sturdy. That meant one man had an exposed face - the other was just as impenetrable as before, but would certainly be less likely to strike now if he thought that his main advantage could be so easily removed.

Dom was surprised, though, when the paladin dropped his sword and attempted to grab him. It was an obvious move, really, and he was cross at himself for not having considered it. One of his arms was pinned to his side by the man's grip - unfortunately for the paladin, it was his left arm, the arm not level with his face, holding a knife. To be fair, it was through no fault of his own - he had tried to grab around both his shoulders, but Dom managed to wriggle his advantaged arm out before his squeeze tightened. It didn't take much - a forceful jab in the man's shoulder (again, between the plates), and the grip loosened enough to duck out of. He tossed his knives aside in favor of the bastard sword at his feet. Sweeping it around while he was close to the man tripped him, knocking him onto his back. Wounded, without his helmet and weapon, the man made no attempt to rise, instead trusting his comrade of dealing with Dom.

The mercenary, though, rose, sword in hand, and didn't move. "I've bested your friend," he said calmly, dropping the weapon beside the stunned knight. "And trust me when I say I could probably do the same with you, if you're so used to easy targets and using might to overpower your foes. I won't kill, unlike you holy men, however - I'd suggest withdrawing. Perhaps you can return later, or find us another day, to hunt us down when the conditions better suit you. I'd doubt it, though - while you've been here, I can only imagine what actual threats to order and society could be doing. You're wasting your time here, though - we're travelers, champions, mercenaries, merchants. Not thieves. If Lyle says he didn't steal from that man - well, you're just going to have to take him at his word."

"If he causes any more trouble, though, then I'll deal with him myself. I'd rather not have someone endangering my life for any reason, and just because he's earned the benefit of the doubt for now doesn't mean I'll give him that mercy if there's a next time."

[Android]

Darrian

It was a sunny day, and what a great way to start it off! Darrian quickly reached into the small pouch his Boss had given him and felt around. 10 ducats! He beamed and started flipping one of the coins between his fingers. He had been a merchant's assistant for a couple months now, but in all that time of traveling, trading, and tutoring, nothing felt as great as the simple feeling as pay day. Sure, it wasn't the greatest day's pay, but it was his to spend on whatever he wanted. And what a better place to do so than Corthone? It was his favorite place. You could find just about anything here, and cheap, too. Duncan was telling him that this was a buyer's marker, that the reason for all these low prices was a competitiveness between the sellers. After that, it started to get a bit confusing, and Darrian had stopped paying attention. Not understanding why it happened didn't keep him from enjoying it.

But what to spend it on? There was always the option of just getting shitfaced, though that was something he could do anywhere. Maybe walking around and seeing what new tents had set up, see if anything like. He remembered a couple places he went to the last time he was here, one where you could buy any animal you could think of., another where you had to hunt for your dinner, and one where they used magic to push you on a ride on a track! This time, he was thinking of finding a place that sold some sort of exotic weapons. The image of wielding throwing stars made him his smile bigger. This was definitely the start of a good da- ohgodhewasontheground.

A girl had run straight into him, causing him to fall down right on top of her. She started shouting once she hit the ground. "Oof! Watch where you're going, you big oaf!"

Darrian looked down at the girl. Pretty cute. He sighed and started to stand up, "Sorry, I guess I wasn't paying attention."

The girl jumped up and pulled off the stick that was on her back. "Gah! Pervert!"

He got about as far "Wha-" before the stick connected to his head. Painfully. He grabbed onto it before she could swing it again and yelled, "OUCH! Lightkratos, lady, what the hell is your problem?"

Edited September 9, 2010 by Android

[SuperFush]

"You know where your hand was! Pervert!" She struggled to pull her stick back. The boy wasn't muscular at all, but he was still able to stop Yuki from thumping him any further. Not that she didn't try for a while, continuing to scream imprecations at him. Eventually she gave up and kicked him in the shin instead. She brought herself up to her full if unimpressive height.

"I suppose that it might have been a mistake. However! As penance for your lack of respect, you should have to do something for me..." she snapped her fingers. "I know! Come on, you have to show me around here. I'm from Carthica, so I don't know where anything interesting here is. Well, don't just stand there like an idiot! Come on!"

Ignoring any protests, she grabbed his wrist and started pulling him after her, seeming oblivious to the fact that, as her "guide", he'd probably be better suited in front. Oh well. Such silly thoughts are not important.

[Android]

Darrian

The girl tried her best to get the staff back, yelling at him about how he was the scum of the earth. Suddenly, she calmed down, and next thing he knew, he was being dragged around by the girl. At this point, he was pretty sure she wasn't quite right in the head, so it was probably best just to go along with it. Besides, he didn't have to pay for the extra entertainment that came from dealing with her.

He pulled the both of them to a stop in front of a large golden tent. "Well, if you want a tour, let's start here. This looks like a good weapons shop."

He entered and took in the giant displays. Everywhere he looked, there was something that could seriously injure you. Glaives, halberds, short swords, longswords, bastard swords, claymores, kite shields, tower shields, spears, polearms, knives of all sorts.... he could hardly believe it. The only question was where to begin.

Darrian pointed to the back, where some staffs were leaning against the wall. "Look, they even have some of those rod-things! You could get yourself a new one!"

[Script]

Derwood

The others had completely ignored Derwood in favor of doing their own slack-jawed whatever-it-was they were doing. Naturally, that meant they had become servants of him and were going about business to please him. In reality they were a bunch of people he had actually never seen before ignoring him because it wasn't worth the effort to care. "Yes, go about your business peasants! I'll be over there, doing sell things!" Derwood marched off in a triumph of authority. It was about time someone recognized his greatness for doing completely legal things!

The completely-on-the-level merchant looked around a bit more for new and glorious liberation attempts. Still nothing came to sight. If Derwood hadn't already concluded it was nearly impossible earlier he would be downright enraged! Instead, now he was just annoyed at people for being far too cautious about money they should just be letting him liberate. Cautioous eh? Then Derwood finally had an even more brilliant idea than normal! The bar! This place had to have a drinking establishment of sorts! Always the perfect place for a quick game of shells and bash! And hey, he might even be able to grab a bit of leftovers from some passed out patron.

It didn't take too long--in Derwood time at least--for him to gracefully fall into what looked like a bar tent. There were a couple of glares aimed at the fantastic man as he did so, but they were just stares of love. Derwood wasn't into that kind of love, so he just ignored them all and took up a seat at some table in what passed for a corner in a tent. Yes, this was the most perfect plan to retrieve free things ever.

[SuperFush]

Yuki bopped him on the head again. "It's not a rod! It's a...a..." her voice faltered for a moment, then brightened again. "A wand! Yeah, we'll call it a wand! But anyways, I don't need another one! My father gave me this, you know, and it's certainly better than anything else I could find here!"

She turned away and sniffed. "This is hardly what I would call an interesting store. Aren't there any nice clothing or jewelry stores or...or...restaurants! With this many people, there has to be somewhere for people to eat! Come on, let's go!"

Grabbing the hapless boy's wrist, Yuki dragged him out onto the street once more.

[Android]

Darrian

And there was what he came for! A set of throwing stars, gleaming from sunlight coming from a hole in the tent above. He leaned in forward, looking at the sign. The stars cost 10 ducats, just enough! Once he got them, he'd start practicing on one of the trees close to their caravan, maybe use the leaves on the branches as a makeshift target, if he got good enough! Darrian started to get lost in daydreaming, quickly brought back after being hit on the head. Again. The girl pulled him back outside of the tent talking about how she'd like to go somewhere else with clothing or jewlery or food, the stars getting so far away.... She wanted him to come with her to go out to eat? But, he was so close... he supposed he would just have to be smart about it, maybe he'd have enough for a knife, or could convince his boss to lend him the extra coins.

Darrian yanked his arm out of her grasp and turned to her. "Eat? For someone who goes around accusing people of being perverts, you're being a bit forward yourself. As for food..." He thought for a second, "There's a place close to the edge of town, where they allow you to hunt your own food. You bring them the body, and they'll cook it for you. Or we can always go to one of the stalls nearby. Honestly, I don't really care as long as it's cheap."

[SuperFush]

Yuki bopped him on the head. Again. "Cheap?!? Are you saying that that is all I'm worth? Just some cheap street stall? Not a chance!"

She looked briefly around, and pointed down the road.

"Over there! That tent seems to be serving food, and it looks much more impressive!"

Grabbing the boy's wrist, she dragged him off.

Again.

[lunarAegis]

Jeph.

Huh, Paladins. Lyle was a bit of a fucker at times... wait... didn't Lyle get eaten by lions back in Alabaste? Coulda sworn... right, Paladins! Dom did a fine job against the first one. Looked like a subordinate. He was now addressing the both of them with some sort of promise that that fucking Lyle wouldn't do anything anymore, but from what he'd encountered of the Paladins, they got their kicks by stabbing people during negotiations. It'd be best to prevent that, if at all possible. Jeph stood, charged at the second paladin, pulled back a haymaker, and bashed the face of his helmet it. The blow knocked the paladin off his feet and made him utter what seemed to be some sort of vulgarity. Jeph couldn't tell, there was way too much bashed in face in the way of the words. The exasperated scion of the Archer family straightened himself out and turned to face the rest of the group.

"Right, I think we should probably make ourselves scare of these guys."

[CATS]

The paladin Dom had addressed staggered back, now sporting a small dent in his helmet. He held his sword level with Jeph for a minute, unsure if the man was going to try anything further, then sheathed his weapon and turned to Dom.

"Very well. Perhaps I was too swift in my judgment. Rest assured, however, if there is trouble from this group again......not only will I refuse to retreat, no matter how intimidating or eloquent you may be, but I will also bring word of your evil-doing to my superiors. You may wish to keep a closer eye on your cowardly friend from now on. You may also wish to explain to your inebriated friend why it is unwise to punch a paladin in the face. Come on, Howard," the paladin said, directing the last statement to his injured and humiliated subordinate, who was now up and dusting himself off. The two paladins turned to walk away, physically intact, but with seriously damaged egos.

"Yeah, that's right! And don't come back, you asshats!" Lyle shouted after them, trying to wave his rusty shank around in front of him as if he knew how to use it. After this brief outburst, he turned back to the rest of the group. "Thanks guys, I thought I was a goner! I take back what I said earlier, you're the best group of mercs I've ever met. I promise I won't cause trouble like that again! Man, don't you guys just fucking hate paladins? Self-righteous uptight sons of bitches, they are. Say Dom, that paladin sword looks a bit big for you, what do you say to putting it up for sale? It'll probably do more good in the hands of some random guy that buys it than that stupid paladin, anyways."

[rn7]

"Oh man, that totally as fun as I expected it to be. You've got a weird definition of hookers, Mr. Caravan guy! At least you've got the drinks, right?" Fargo extended out his hand, as if asking for Lyle to deliver. "Why were those hookers chasing you any way? You're that ugly?"

[Purg]

"I wasn't kidding about dealing with you myself. Endangering our lives... That makes you a liability, Lyle. If it happens again, I'll be sure to make sure it won't happen a third time, before I leave this town with as much of my life as I can." He stuck the sword in the ground, impressed to see it stand after he let go of the hilt, and knelt to pick up his discarded knives. "A paladin's sword is made to be effective against monsters, as well as a few of the more dangerous races. As valuable it would be to sell, I think it would be best to keep it for now - perhaps Stark's blade is getting dull, or we could find someone else willing to use it." As he spoke, he grabbed one of the larger rags designed from the torn clothes, forming a crude cloth sheath by wrapping it around the blade, and tying a knot around the hilt. "I'll hold onto it for now - not that I don't trust anyone else, but a mercenary with a sword is hardly out of the ordinary."

Of course, why would he need to be seen with it? Jeph had a point about fleeing the scene of the encounter - there was no guarantee that more paladins wouldn't swarm as soon as the pair that had just left had reported to their higher-ups. He quickly pulled a cloak off of his belt, while thrusting the sword through one of the straps Charlie had made extra on the belt, then threw the cloak over everything, pulling the hood over his head. Now he was just another cloaked man, and, from what he had seen in the streets, there were many of those - even Lyle was one of those, as well as Blaine. "This should be an adequate disguise for the moment," he said calmly, to Jeph. "Becoming scarce seems like a good idea, after that display. Perhaps we should move to another area in relation to the government building - we've been sitting in this place too long anyways, I think."

[Android]

Darrian

Again with the goddamn stick. Darrian made a mental note to keep an eye on the thing, she seemed to start every conversation by giving the other person a head injury. Speaking of which, he was starting to get a headache. At this point, he was following her just to avoid any more trouble. Shooting down his hopes of going somewhere affordable almost immediately, she pulled him to another tent nearby.

Sure enough, it seemed that she had made the worst decision that she could have. They had forced themselves into a massive line, practically circling around the tent.

"...We better find another place to eat. We'd have to wait here until sunset. Hell, we could go to one of the stalls I mentioned earlier and eat twice as much food for less, after waiting for maybe a couple minutes! Sounds good, right... eh, I don't think you ever bothered to tell me your name."

Edited September 10, 2010 by Android

[CATS]

"Erm, uh, yes. Yes, I really am that ugly! You would never, ever want me to take off this cloak, so don't ever try to take it off. And no, those bastards wouldn't even let me finish my drink! I'm sure that guy has lots more mead, though. You should ask him for some for me too," Lyle said to Fargo, indicating Jeph. Next in line to talk to him was Dom.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm sorry!" Lyle exclaimed, upset that he had managed to draw the attention of paladins and piss off his only allies at the same time. That was just how things usually went for Lyle, though. Sometimes the fact that he was still alive, much less in good shape, thoroughly shocked him. "I told you, I didn't even do anything wrong, those guys are just assholes. You saw how stupid they were! Paladins are always like that, they were going to kill you guys for no reason at all. And I even made it up to you, I got you a nice paladin sword too! I think it worked out pretty well, huh?" Lyle said.

As he talked, he also hurriedly packed up all his stuff. Dom was right about laying low, you could never tell with paladins, they might come back, they might not--but Lyle would rather be safe than sorry. After throwing all his crap together as fast as humanly (or rat-human hybridly) possible, Lyle zipped to the front of the cart and began to pull it away. Where was he going? He had no idea, somewhere a good ways away from their last spot, at least.

"Come on guys, let's make like trees! Anyone know where we should go to next?"

[rn7]

"Aw, we leaving already? But there's been no superbadass magic duel yet! I guess we can't always end on a high note." Fargo said, with much disappointment. In truth, he really wanted to try out his newfangled shields rather than watch two behemoths duke it out, but either was fine really. In such a peaceful town as Corthrone, that was probably to be expected. Fargo was still disappointed all the same.

There were a number of places to go from Corthrone-- after all, it was the major crossroads to just about any where. The reason they had gone here in the first place was to get some jobs, but mostly what his companions did was unload their junk for measly profits. Fargo couldn't really get his hands on anything more substantial than shoveling manure. It was probably a bad time for employment, with the recent destruction of Oakdale and the oversaturation of fortune tellers. Even the beasts that marauded the streets every now and then had disappeared mysteriously, rumored to have been lured by a calling from Oakdale. Strange, why would they gather like that?

Well, it probably wasn't worth worrying about. Fargo had cleared away from Oakdale a long time ago, or at least he thought so. Everyone he owed a debt to there was either mucking around in Alabaste still, or was dandelion food. He didn't necessarily owe anyone in Corthrone, seeing as no one but the government bigwigs lived here permanently, but there was the occasional passerby that could recognize him and call him out on his quite disproportionate debt.

So maybe it was a good thing that the group was getting out of the place. Fargo didn't keep a map with him, and it had been a while since he last traveled. From what he heard, the other towns weren't keeping too well these last few years. Ultimately, it didn't appeal too much to Fargo.

"Sorry, Mr. Caravan guy, if you want to leave, you can go ahead. But I'm staying put, at least until something super, and I mean SUPER, badass happens."

[mr_e_s]

Stark

Drin excused and introduced his friend. Stark was still ill at ease with a sudden new face, but he was willing to put up with it, if only for how useful the last two answers had been. Information was swimming around his head, trying to match anything that happened recently, anything that happened with Eltiar. Was this organization responsible for that fight in Alabaste, or was that just something between the two men? Did they have something to do with Oakheim? If so, why? These were valid questions, but they weren't questions to be asked here. For one thing, Stark had the feeling he didn't have many more useful answers to give Drin, and for another, he wasn't sure Drin had the answers to those questions. From what he had said, this group seemed to operate with some kind of autonamy, these cells not interacting too much...

Oh, right, he'd have to answer Drin's question too. He supposed he'd been sitting there a while, lost in the thoughts presented by this new knowledge. That his old friend was... a spy? Or, a soldier. Still so much was unclear. Stark would share what he knew. Maybe if he was lucky, him and Drin could piece together, between the two of them, just who Eltiar/Eisig was. Funny how hard that sounded, given how much Stark thought he already knew the man. "He's....he's saved me a lot, over the years. He was there when my depth perception issues came up." Stark gave a grim smirk as he pointed to his missing eye, albeit without lifting the patch, and finished his drink. "He actually saved my life when I met him.. Yeah, though. He did save me just recently. Twice, actually. In Alabaste, this guy with some kind of Lightning powers hit me right here." In the space of ten seconds, Stark was showing a second wound to the two men at the table. This one the heavily worked on, both magically and directly by actual doctors, wound on his shoulder. They actually did a rally good job. You could still tell the flesh had been burnt, but it didn't hurt beyond kind of a consistent soreness. Stark really could live with that.

"And before that." Stark was recalling some things he might have rather left forgotten now, he'd subconsciously been burying the fall of Oakheim in his head ever since he left there. "When Oakheim burned to the ground because of that fire elemental. I was there. And it followed me out of the town. Eltiar showed up and took care of it. Maybe a little late for the town, but I still owe him my life another time over for it." Telling these stories actually made him feel better. He'd been so full of doubt over his friend's character, but all these stories in which his life had been saved b that same friend, it felt better. Still, there were things he had to know. And it was his turn.

"...So why are you here, in Corthrone? You said this city was good for his work." Stark pointed to Andy, whose arrival had given him an unintended piece of information. "You obviously aren't regularly in this city then. So why is your whole group here? And why are you so interested in Eltiar?" Stark felt he was onto something with this one. He didn't know why, he was just following his gut. He flagged down the bargirl and ordered another drink after his question. It was possible he'd need it.

Fuego

To say Fuego was not happy would have been akin to saying there had been a small fire at Oakheim. He was so tired of putting up with the bullshit of his partner, of his underling. Of that idiot! He wanted to kill him, and not in any kind of painless way. He wanted to put a bag over his head and watch him suffocate. He wanted to keep putting sharp things into him until there weren't any more places to do so. He wanted to...You know what, fuck it, he wanted to burn that bastard alive. This whole thing was suposed to be secret! Covert! He was probably wearing golden armour chanting out his real name and telling everyone he was from 'a super-cool secret organization spanning the globe'. He'd have to be silenced. Fuego'd be happy to do it, too.

Unbeknownst to Fuego, delicious irony in the form of bits of lit cigarettes, and pieces of fires from kilns and ovens and the like moved about of their own free will, breaking off from whatever job they had been set to before and came to him, with a new duty, with a new purpouse. A few people he passed took note of the little sparks floating through the air after him, but it wasn't until more joined him, and they began to merge together that he became a spectacle himself. He didn't care or notice though. He was looking for Klints, and none of those people gawking were Klints. He just needed a better way to find him then walking the streets. As the fire behind him grew enough to take it's own shapes, it began lighting up corners to give Fuego a better view, n case Klints was hiding or dead in one of them, and getting people out of his way for him, o he needn't navigate the crowds.

Fuego stopped suddenly, as if an idea had hit him with enough power to actually halt his movement. He turned and walked into a stand, his ever-growing servant following him in. The merchant inside looked like a mouse, meagerly shrinking into the corner as Fuego loomed over him like a hawk with an appetite. "Some idiot's been dirt surfing around town, I'm sure you've seen him. Where is he?" Fuego asked almost calmly. That was quickly ruined by the shopkeeper's stammering.

"I...I-I...I-"

"WHERE IS HE?" Fuego screamed and point to the fire, which had formed a crude portrait of his partner, but was now morphing into a spear. Fuego wasn't sure when he became aware of it, but he didn't really care, either. The flames were his partner now. No one else could be trusted. They were all failures or traitors. Everyone was...

Whistler

I'm no boyscout, ain't never been one, actually. Didn't really have the constitution or love of the woods for it. I've always been a city type of guy. Anyways, the point is, I ain't the most honourable of guys. No scout's honour, you get it? So when Beaker told me he wasn't too keen on his job or the organization, I kinda took that information and filed it away in case I'd need it later. I ain't none too proud of that, he's one of my few friends in the world, and I actually kind of regret it. If I could go back in time, I'd have just told him to watch his mouth, you never know whose listening, and that he didn't want to get a visit from internal affairs. Actually, there were a lot of things I would have changed or said different. I know no one lives a perfect life, but I figure I'm doing worse then the average so far. I ain't got no one special, and my few friends... Yeah, I could be doing better, I think.

So Beaker, he makes this vase merchant really uncomfortable, and I smooth things out, as per usual, then we start looking for Cog and Tinker, cause we figure it's about time we all sat down and worked out just what it is we wanted to do here. Beaker figured we could just ignore this job, cause it was a pretty vague one, but I had that feeling it was one of those jobs the higher-ups would be paying close attention to, and I'd rather impress then the other thing, where I'm stuck playing lookout for the next decade or two.

My first thought on finding the two of them is somewhere where they'd sell machinery. It's funny looking back on that, how little I really knew about them, or still do, actually. All that time I'd known them, and they were just machine guys. I wonder if I was like that to them. If all I ever was to them was that invisible guy. Maybe that's the kind of thing a guy should ask his friends, but I swear it didn't occur to me until just now. For all my ability and style, and don't think I don't have those in spades, I can be pretty thick.

But yeah, we checked out some machine shops and came up with pretty much nothing. One guy said he saw guy with fake arms, but that was mid day and it was getting later already. Beaker seemed pretty uninterested in the machines, I think. I figure it's just not his kind of science, you know? Like, if it doesn't bubble or explode, it's not up his alley. None of the stuff was real cool like Tinker's creations anyways. Beaker and I, we made a lot of small talk in the mean time, the weather, politics, the chemical formula behind some kind of substitute for flying magic he was working on. You know, the usual chatter.

Remus

"Hello there, old fiend." Remus knew it was a little cliche, but he couldn't help stepping out of the shadows while he said it. He wore a halfhearted smile over his surprisingly boyish face, given the age of the man. His white hair was currently tied up in a pony tail, and he was wearing some small wire-frame spectacles which were just barely balancing on his nose. He wasn't strictly speaking handsome, but you could tell he had been, at one point, and while age had taken a good measure of that away, there was still an air of it there. He was the senior of the man he was addressing, but you might not be able to tell that right away looking at them.

He reached into his robes, very standard garb for a scholar, and pulled out a very average looking piece of paper. He gave it a good look, whispered something into it, and handed his friend the sheet. "You're a very wanted man these days." Remus almost feigned a bow, but decided that would be disrespectful,m given the situation. "You know, if I found you this quickly, some more serious individuals won't be far behind. Are you even trying to lay low?" He was speaking more out of genuine concern then any kind of condescension, but all the same, he was worried it came off too harsh. Sometimes words had a way of imbuing a meaning all their own to their recipients. Be it through unintentional intonation and inflection, or the pre-supposition of the listener, the same speech could be heard an infinite number of different ways. Fascinating, really.

[Purg]

"We're here because we were told to be here. The men in charge are looking for something in particular, and Corthrone may be where we find it. It's an unassuming object - I hope you understand that I won't tell you quite what it is, simply because there are some things that I feel can't be shared, even if I do know them. Besides that, Corthrone really is a wonderful city for men of mine and Andy's trades - we're always looking for new components and merchants that carry them, and we have a much higher chance of finding them here than in Highrise or Keeparch - they're both lovely cities, but neither can compare to the moving market." He coughed, considering how to best answer the last question - his interest in Eltiar.

"I haven't lied to you, Stark. Eltiar - Eisig - whatever his name, he is a good friend to me. And to you as well, I think. I hope you've come to understand that, that we're both lucky to have such a good man in our company... because, from what you told me, he may be making himself scarce, soon enough." He hoped he was over-analyzing, that this was all a series of badly timed coincidences, that this series of events wasn't leading to the end he could predict. "From what I've heard - from you, and from others - and what I know, Oakheim... was likely burned by a member of the organization. Perhaps not a well-liked member, but, one nonetheless, and probably pursuing the same thing all of us are. And the man that attacked you in Alabaste, the lightning thrower... Well, one of Eltiar's comrades had some talent with electricity. Twice is a coincidence, but..."

"But I fear that Eltiar may be in danger - that the organization may see him now as opposing their goals, and that they might deal with him as such. Perhaps others already know this - perhaps he is already hunted - or perhaps I'm missing some key points. Perhaps the attacker in Alabaste is unrelated to everything - perhaps he was the rogue agent, not Eltiar."

"... Either way, I fear that the answer may make itself apparent sooner, rather than later."

~-~

Dom turned to Fargo once they had settled the caravan in a new spot. "I hadn't planned on leaving the city - not before we find out where Stark's found himself. But we couldn't stay in the same place as where those paladins saw us - it's still unsafe to stay here, but it's certainly unlikely that we'll be found by the armored thugs before we are by Stark." The spot wasn't much different than the spot they had left, but was further from the main building - which would hopefully mean it was further from the paladin's station of command.

It worried him, though, that they had moved without Stark knowing. Perhaps in a bit, he'd go try to find him among the tents - still in his cloak, of course. He didn't like the idea of being caught alone and unaware by the men he had just sent running.