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Shattered Honour Chapter Three


Parrhesia
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Sheila nods. "Rooms? Well, normally you'd be shit out of luck, but those assholes-" she jerks her head at the celebrating mercenaries, "-moved out this morning. They're only back for beer, before apparently going elsewhere to 'seek their fortune in Carona'. Bastards. Anyway, one maxim per room per night. Two beds a room. Don't expect quality, but I don't think there's any rats."

She turns towards Jacob. "Hmm?"

Edited by Furetchen
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Jack nodded his thanks to the barkeeper and then walked back to the group in time to hear Ibn's question. "Ah, well, there's not much of a plan as such. But, we were hoping to surprise him. I'll be right back. Figuring out rooms and such." He walks past Jacqui and gestures for her to follow him. Once they were far enough away from everyone else, he whispers to her. "The group of mercs here. They're headed for Carona as well."

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"Would you get my friend here a drink?"

Jacob motions toward Varon and hands over the last of the money he'd set aside for the next few days.

Sheila nods. "We got ale or mead. Safer'n drinking the water. For food, there's the usual - pies, paties, brown bread, that kind of thing."

He walks past Jacqui and gestures for her to follow him. Once they were far enough away from everyone else, he whispers to her. "The group of mercs here. They're headed for Carona as well."

Jacqui nods. "I got a look at them edgeways. They're armed to the teeth. Don't start anything, because they'd cut us all to fucking shreds. The sellswords playing darts, though, seem to be unattached."

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"As if there were a shadow wrapping around my body."

"I hear that. Mortality's a bitch, especially when it's kicking you as hard as it has been for us," Varon said as he downed the very welcome drink that Jacob bought. "I need an early night. You got enough for a room Jacob? I'm completely out."

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"We could perhaps offer them some reason to join us. We do have some money after all. Though it does appear as if at least part of the other group will be joining us." He started to make his way back to the table.

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"You got enough for a room Jacob? I'm completely out."

"I got a room a while back, actually."

He holds up the key. 'We may as well get to sleep sooner, rather than later."

He turns to Sheila.

"Thanks for the ale, and for the company. Hopefully the night goes well for you. We'll be retiring now."

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Jack stopped by the table, but noted that some of the group was clearly still thinking it over. He continued walking to where the sellswords were playing darts. "Well, hello there my fine gentlemen. My name is Jack. You four appear to be a fine company of fellows. Tell me, what are you doing in a place like this?"

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The mercenaries are an unlikely lot. A Dracian longbowman is the first to notice you. He's tall, broad in the shoulder for his race, handsome if you like scars and lean like a half-starved predator. His companions are swarthy enough to mark them as Othidian - a giant, hulking brute of at least six and a half foot, a handsome fellow with a golden tooth and six fingers on his left hand, and a horse-faced young woman with a limp. The Dracian gets straight to the point. "We're out of work and sickeningly sober. Need some muscle?"

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"Well, as it just so happens, we're on a mission right now that could use some help. We recently went a man down in a battle against some crazy bandits. One of them jumped out at us from inside a chest of all things. I don't get it. Anyways, yes we have a job for you. How much would you be looking to be paid?"

Edited by scorri
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The Dracian glances back at his mates, who are all gazing on hungrily at the thought of 'honest' work. "It'd be six maxims in advance apiece, seven more after the job's done. ... Kinda low, I know, but it's what we were reduced to of late."

The six-fingered man steps forward. "Us and seven others raided the Irontooth Brigands, right? They're offering a bounty on 'em now. They're called Ironteeth for a reason... each recruit knocks out one of their own and replaces it with an iron slab. So the bounty's six maxims a tooth, right? We thought we'd make a killing on 'em. Turns out the only killing, well... that's why there's just us four, now."

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"Wait, iron teeth? Those are the bandits that attacked us! Well now, good thing we kept those teeth. That will make this easier. You're all hired! Come on and join us. Drinks are on us tonight." He waved them to join the table and went to order drinks for them. On the way to the bar, he stopped back Jacqui. "Turns out those teeth are worth something. Six maxims each to be exact." Continuing on, he ordered the drinks and brought them back to the table where he handed them out.

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The warrior sits down so heavily he almost breaks the chair, sculls the ale and slams the empty flagon back on the table. The other three sit down with somewhat more dignity.

"CAPITAL!" shouts the warrior. "Bring me another!"

"Take mine," offers the woman. "I don't drink, myself." She turns her face towards the group. "My name's Elsa. The handsome rake is Raffin, the Dracian is Kerrard, and... he's Slate."

"You will find I am a simple man," says Slate. "I live for three things! Wine! Women! And fighting!"

Raffin smiles, despite himself. "You'll get used to him after a while. Maybe. Anyway, I assure you you won't regret hiring us. Now, who do you want dead?"

Edited by Furetchen
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Izdihar is woken up (because she passed out again while she was out of focus, you see) by the large man sitting down very loudly. She hears him give a short explanation of himself and sort of manages to mumble "I like him, can we keep him?" before falling back to sleep.

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Jack sits down next to Raffin. "Well, I'm sure he'll make friends with someone. As for who we want dead, there's a man named Chisford. He's currently running a camp of... 'survivors' shall we say of battles. We were members of that camp before he sent us out. Long story short, we found out he betrayed us and have been hired to kill him. We came here to meet with the rest of our group. We're planning on stocking up and heading out in the morning."

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"Deserters." Raffin nods, bright green eyes gleaming. "Got it. We've handled deserters before, right?"

Kerrard spits. "Hell, I'm a deserter now. But it's Strachan's lads, that hardly counts."

"I will fight any man!" That was Slate, naturally.

"We have our rooms booked. I think I'm going to head up, for now." Elsa nods at you, and leaves with Raffin.

Kerrard purses his lips. "Fuck that, I'm stayin'. Slate?"

"ALE!"

"Right!"

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Jack turns to Jacqui. "So then. We've got the planned reinforcements, we've got a bounty to collect, and we've made some new friends! All in all this night is turning out better than I ever could have expected. And now we have beds to sleep in, ale to drink, and I've got a beautiful woman to admire. What else could a man ask for?"

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Jacqui slides a hand down Jack's back, smiling. "Maybe I'm just drunk, but you've almost seemed like you've done well your first time in command. I'm impressed."

Marlowe scowls, but neither of you care or notice because he's just hanging around in the back somewhere.

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Jack grins. "Well then, why don't we leave these men and women to their drinks and thoughts and head upstairs?" He grabs his drink and starts to head up, glancing back with a grin to see if she is following.

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With the battle won, Tordel followed the rest of the group. He wasn't usually talkative, but he was taking it to the next level. They'd found some of the other group, as well as some mercenaries. Would everything really be over after they killed Chrisford?

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Jacob and Varon seemed to share Jordan's attitude at the moment, not exactly pleased with what had happened. Jack had been annoying earlier, but having someone in such high spirits made him feel at least a bit better. He sat himself at the table with the other group and started fiddling with his crossbow, wanting to make sure he didn't accidentally fire another bolt off like he had in the forest.

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Cedric had been quiet ever since they had left the ambush, having one of their own killed had been a huge blow to the boy. While he hadn't actually ever talked to Lena seeing a comrade killed in such a brutal way was still difficult.

When they had arrived at the tavern he sat down almost off in a corner away from everyone else with a sullen look on his face. He wouldn't abandon everyone else, but at the same time Cedric really wished had someone to talk to. He seemed to be the youngest fighter by far and it almost alienated him. Giving a sigh he really wished he had someone to talk to.

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