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#16
Jun 3rd, 2016, 02:03 PM
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#17
Jun 5th, 2016, 04:10 PM
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'Well, well. Will wonders never cease,' Radcliffe thought to himself, grinning wryly as the Primarch openly admitted that trusting him was potentially foolish then proceeded to lay out the reasons that he should do so anyways. An honest and forthright politician. Either Lord Gyr was of a rare mold, or Radcliffe was even drunker than he thought.
Radcliffe was willing to believe it was a case of the former. Truthfully, had no particular disdain for the man beyond the standard amount he held for most of those who shared his social bracket. In fact, if anything Radcliffe probably would have admitted that he had always held the Primarch in fairly high regard, even though this was his first time meeting the man in person. Gyr did a good job leading his city and keeping the streets safe - current circumstances notwithstanding - and he had always seemed fair and level-handed. Certainly competent. That had never been in question in Radcliffe's mind. One did not rise to the top of the pile in a place like Absalom by being a ninny. Though considering Utgar... one could still get depressingly close. With a nod from Lord Gyr, the guards stepped forward and began undoing their shackles. Radcliffe grinned his most sardonic grin when they got to him, presenting his wrists to the guards with all the pomp and feigned dignity he could throw together. As if he were allowing them to release him. The expressions of their faces only made his grin grow, though he directed a gracious bow of the head towards Lord Gyr as the guard moved on past him. "That is quite the itinerary," Radcliffe mused with a low whistle, as Lord Gyr laid out in plain terms all the things he wanted them to do. It very nearly made him re-evaluate his opinion on the primarch mental capacity, as only a fool or a mad man could really expect a mere five people to restore order to a city such as Absalom. He didn't say that though, of course. Indeed, Radcliffe's first instinct was to simply give whatever answers he needed to in order to avoid a return to the dungeons. "I certainly would not refuse a drink," Radcliffe said, as Kyra brought up the subject. "Indeed, it seems that we have a great deal of... planning, I suppose, to undertake." "My lord," He smiled and bowed to the primarch in farewell, making sure to keep his face even. Smile and nod. It was all he could do at the moment. Then, once he managed to get outside of the keep, the moment no one was looking, catch the first coach to Diobel and hop on whatever ship was sailing the furthest. Tian was lovely this time of year.
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Bleach d20: Trouble in Paradise (HoF: 2015) [Co-DM] || Purge (HoF: 2017) [GM]
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#18
Jun 6th, 2016, 03:43 PM
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Quickly coming to the realization that he was being left behind, and would very much be in trouble if he lost track of these people, Lee managed a quick drop to a knee beside the Primarch's throne and a bowing of his head. He popped back up in an instant and was out the door - quick as a cat and twice as silent, he stepped into Or rough grouping. I don't imagine they're actually strung out like a line of ducks.line behind the rest of those leaving.
He couldn't be sure, but this Kyra seemed the likely person in charge, or, at the very least, capable of making decisive action. Which was a blessing just now. The world would be a lot better if people would just tell other people what they wanted. In particular: Lee really would rather people just told him what they were talking to him for and why. What they were expecting...what they wanted...they could get the unreasonable things out of the way and really get down to business. Speaking of which...Hibiscus Mead?...not a lot of places serve that. Really, two that he'd found. Not that he was a particular fan of it...but when he wanted to drink something floral that was also beer and left him in pain the next day, that was definitely an option. Toity places these taverns were. This...Bombast...must have expensive taste. He'd had every intention of getting down three or five beers before tackling anything like nation saving...but not if it was going to bankrupt him first. Mainly, Lee just padded silently along behind the three who had just been in chains, towards their destination, and contemplated how much alcohol was too much to consume upon just meeting people. He glanced around occasionally, watching for observers or followers - a force of habit impossible to break at this point in his life.
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#19
Jun 9th, 2016, 02:55 AM
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Thangaurdt lost track of time as his bald head cocked to the side and he looked up at Kyra, his nose ring quivering as he fought back the tears. His breathing slowed to a crawl as he took in the news that had overtaken his senses. Vigg was dead, and his sister was real and here in the flesh. He hugged her a bit tighter before he released and backed away his lips quivering for a moment as the realization sunk in and he came back to reality.
As she thanked him and pivoted to the request from the Primarch he coughed and regained his senses about him. Yes, now was a time for action, a time to avenge whoever caused this and a time to set things right. As he stood there in stark silence, he observed the others as their chains were unbound and they accepted the pleas of Lord Gyr to aid him in restoring some order to this city and more importantly finding who was behind Vigg’s murder. The conversation turned to drinking, something Thangaurdt found much more appealing to his pallet. As they discussed the Hibiscus Mead his eyes lit up, “Hibiscus Mead, now thar be a drink worthy of anyone worth his backbone in battle, I cou' go for a taste of that while we talk about what comes next.” He then turned to Lord Gyr, “I’ll tell ye what yer eminence or whatever ye go by, yes gold be well received, but I will do this ta find out what happened ta Vigg. He was a formidable warrior by anyone’s account, and I be sure it was nae street waif that murdered him. I be in this ta find out what be behind this and avenge him.” As his mind continued to race with this new information while the others began to prepare to leave he blurted out, “What about Brom, he and Vigg were never separated in even tha direst of circumstances. Surely if Vigg were here, Brom wou' have been as well.”
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My apologies to all I game with, going through some challenging times with RL at the moment but I am still here and will persavere. TY for your Patience.
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#20
Jun 22nd, 2016, 01:38 PM
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 "At once, my liege." Orion proved prompt, returning their confiscated items before they left the building housing the Primarch's Seat, and diverting them only temporarily into a small but well-stocked armory one floor below. Satisfied by the willingness of the prisoners to aid him in restoring order to the city, the Primarch required nothing more of them. It was best, in fact, that they work the details out away from his hearing. The Oracle had said as much. Gyr had hoped, of course, that the day of desolation would be far removed from the start of his reign -- that he might have had more time to prepare, to guard against the darkness to come -- but the wheels had been set in motion the moment he ascended to the Primarchy. And what could he do now except trust that the Oracle's words would once again prove true? That champions would arrive, riding a wave of stone and blood, that when the foundations of the world shook and the sun was shrouded in eternal night, four might stand, five might triumph, six might prove faithful, and seven less one might again bring light to the world. Could these be the five? And would there be five? He had always interpreted the prophecy to mean six champions, yet here he had five and five would suffice -- for now. And as for the other prophecies? The arcane words that spoke of the growing shadow, a devil in fox's clothing, and a bloodless massacre? What had that to do with him? Those were visions for another time. Another place. Another man, perhaps. And what could he do... but hope? *** As the champions made their way through Azlanti Keep, heading back toward the Coins and the comforting, boozy atmosphere of The Saucy Wench Tavern, the general atmosphere of chaos in the city was evident. Guards and soldiers rushed around, disorganized and frantic. The gates to the Keep had been closed and were guarded by half a dozen fully armed men and perhaps a dozen well-concealed archers atop the crenelated battlements. Off in the distance, huge plumes of black and grey smoke rose from the direction of Puddles and the Docks, the breeze off the sea blowing the acrid clouds inland so it spread like a pestilence across all of lower Absalom. Even in the relative seclusion of Azlanti Keep, small bits of ash were beginning to fall like tainted snowflakes. To the southwest, not far from the Keep itself, flashes of blue lightning and viridian sunflares made known the presence of the Scholastics in their high tower -- though to what purpose these high-level magics were being wielded was unclear from such a distance. And elsewhere, to the east, just visible upon the horizon, a rising cloud of dust and sand so thick and broad as to be impenetrable with the human eye. At the Gate, a grizzled veteran soldier stared down the five heroes. As they approached, he made a few subtle gestures and two others joined him in a sort of loose, thuggish formation. The veteran spit on the ground as the quintet of would-be-heroes approached. "What th'ell you lot want? Ain't no one gets in or out wiv'out official say-so." Last edited by moozuba; Jun 22nd, 2016 at 01:43 PM.
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#21
Jun 22nd, 2016, 04:20 PM
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Lee watched with interest as the others got their equipment back, taking note of things like weapons and armor, and anything large or strange items of interest easily visible. He didn't lean over and ask what anything was, by any means, but he did seem to be taking some sort of mental inventory. Once it came down to things like backpacks and coin pouches, he seemed to lose interest.
He followed along, lost in his own little world, until they reached the armory and Orion gave the nod of 'go ahead' for him as well. His face lit up like Name-Day-come-early, and he didn't have to say a word - the armorer simply handed over a jet black set of studded leathers that almost seemed to blur at the edges. Clearly he'd been eyeing it for a while now. With little fuss, he stripped off his armor and handed it over, putting on the new. As they left the Armory and headed towards the gates, despite the chaos, there was a bit of a bounce in his step, and he kept rubbing from his left ribs around to his stomach - though whether the armor fit oddly or he had decided it needed to be caressed like a pet was up for debate. The gruff guard stopped them then, demanding proof of official pardon or permission. Lee stood there with the others for a moment, waiting for...something...before it dawned on him. That was him. "Oh!" came the startled word from the rear of the group. Having realized he was the cause of the holdup, Lee made his way to the front. In a move clearly down from years of practice, he had his glove and vambrace off in seconds, and his sleeve rolled up the next. His apology came out muffled around the glove in his mouth, "Sorry." He stepped to present his inner arm to the guard, with a quick, deliberate flexing of his wrist.If so inclined to snoop: A sigil shakes free of his arm and glows an electric blue. It shares some features of the official Seal of the City of Absalom, but is not an exact match.* He snatched the glove back out of his mouth, "They're with me." He was softly spoken, but matter-of-fact as he began to pull his sleeve back down and re-don his armor. Focused on his task, he didn't look up at the guard when he added, to be clear, "We're headed out." Last edited by SophieValentine; Jul 18th, 2017 at 11:13 PM.
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#22
Jun 22nd, 2016, 04:54 PM
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The veteran soldier looked the gangly Smith over as if sizing him up, then snorted derisively and nodded. "Well, sod me. Open th' gates, lads, we've got a bonafide spook and 'is four girlfriends 'ere." He barked a laugh and spit again, missing Agent Smith's boot by less than a foot. "Good luck out there, lads," he called as the gates clapped shut behind them. "Yer gonna need it!" A peel of rolling laughter carried through the heavy iron doors.
Ahead lay the Wise Quarter, less populous and therefore seemingly less chaotic than the Keep, but here and there were signs of unrest -- a child crying in the street, a shop with a busted lock and an utter mess inside, a mage wandering the street with a dazed expression, babbling to himself about balefire. Last edited by moozuba; Jun 22nd, 2016 at 04:55 PM.
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#23
Jun 22nd, 2016, 06:18 PM
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...a bonafide spook and 'is four girlfriends 'ere...
At the man's words, Lee looked up, a bit shocked, and cast a The perceptive among you may recognize the flash of emotion crossing his face as anger if you're good, embarrassment if you're really good.glance at the people behind him. Harder to tell in the dancing torchlight of evening, but there was definitely a tinge of color to his ears and quickly spreading high on his cheeks as he moved out through the gates, stony faced, and without comment. 'What am I supposed to say to that? Do I protest? Of course he knows they're not. Of course they know they're not - I'll just look like an idiot. Do I apologize to them for his behavior? He's not exactly in my realm of influence. Do-' The iron doors clanged shut and the man called out something else. 'Too late. Gods above, man, could you be more useless?' Lee just stared around at the rest of the group, obviously sensing his time to say anything of merit was long since gone. He waited for Mr. Bombast to lead them to their destination, once more on the lookout for trouble, attempting to will the discomfort of that little interaction off his face. Last edited by SophieValentine; Jun 22nd, 2016 at 07:56 PM.
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#24
Jun 23rd, 2016, 02:14 AM
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Thangaurdt’s heart withered into his gritting stomach as he waited for a reply from anyone about Brom, but no answers surfaced. The sudden flurry of events spun too fast and perhaps no one heard his plea, or strange as it may seem to him the inseparable Vigg and Brom had separated before Vigg encountered this crowd. His mind racing he decided to hold that question until later when they made it into the tavern, and he had their attention again.
They proceeded down to the armory and Thangardt’s eyes lit up like a fire in a lumber camp. He searched high and low, mainly low due to his height, for something that would catch his eye. Around a corner in the back, he saw it. A guisarme leaning up behind a rack of polearms. He wasn’t sure if it was the wicked hook around the blade or the oak dowel, but it called his name like a siren on a stormy sea. He grasped it and caressed the shaft as he went out to find the others. They expeditiously made their way out of the central keep and towards the gate, when they were crudely stopped at the gate by a band of rather lackluster guards, if this be what tha Primarch has ta protect him he shou' spend a few more gold and git some real soldiers, Thangaurdt thought to himself. “Ain't no one gets in or out wiv'out official say-so” said the brushiest one as he stepped in their path. Before Thangurdt could brandish his new guisarme, though, the lanky elf pushed his way to the front. He showed them some tattoo or other on his forearm, and they opened the gate. As they passed through they laughed and made a comment to his group. As Thangaurdt passed by he turned to the wannabe and said, “Now don’t git yer drawers in a twist thar cupcake, just tell me this, do I git bonus points if I care what ye say.” The gate slammed on them as soon as they were through. The outlook in the streets was not the most optimistic of scenes by a far stretch. It was as though Absalom were under siege by a vast army. In fact, that may have been better, instead the city seemed to be tearing itself apart from the inside like a crazed drunk on a binge. As they passed by the shop that had been looted and sent asunder he sighed and turned towards Bombast, “So thar slick, ye be tha one that be supposed ta lead us ta this tavern with that Hibiscus Mead, lead tha way so we ken git goin' and off of these degeneratin' streets.”
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My apologies to all I game with, going through some challenging times with RL at the moment but I am still here and will persavere. TY for your Patience.
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#25
Jun 23rd, 2016, 11:57 AM
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"Of course, of course." Thomas smiles, weakly. "It's been a terribly long day; I'm rather afraid that I'm still a bit...askew, shall we say? Nothing for it! A snootful shall set me right, I'm quite certain. And do ignore those oafs," he added, gesturing in the direction of the gate, "I beg of you! A rough, uncultured lot, not worthy of further attention!"
Raising his walking stick, Thomas pointed it dramatically down the street. "Tally ho, gentlemen and ladies! A table awaits us! Do keep your expectations low, however: The Saucy Wench is not the most cultured of establishments. Name's a bit of a giveaway there, what? But culture is rather over-rated, I've found. All well and good in its place, but no point in putting on airs if it's not a formal occasion." Jasper leaned over, and chattered something in Thomas' ear. "Quite right, Poundworthy old boy! Quite right. The patrons of the Wench are the very salt of the earth, and I shan't hesitate to say it! Perhaps a little saltier than strictly necessary...and certainly more earthy than one might hope...but still and all, a fine lot. Just don't turn your back on anyone, and avoid any conversations that regard the nature and habits of anyone's mother, and I'm sure that the experience will be entirely adequate." Head held high, walking stick clicking and clacking on the cobblestones, Thomas set off, confident that the others were behind him.
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#26
Jun 23rd, 2016, 07:02 PM
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Radcliffe strode out of Lord Gyr's chambers without further prompting or words from his end. The dwarf was still talking, asking questions about Brom. Radcliffe didn't intended to be the one to tell him that Brom was not in any condition to take visitors at the moments. The fellow had not taken the news of Nosam's death very well and Radcliffe doubted he would like hearing that Brom was currently laying in some medical bed somewhere with a broken back from when an undead paladin shattered his spine with a chandelier. He might cry again.
There were few things more depressing in this world than a weepy dwarf. Likewise, he didn't really have the heart to correct the good dwarf that it wasn't certainly not just some street waif who had killed his friend. It was the very guardsmen of the city whose lord he had just pledged to aid who had killed Vigg Nosam. Radcliffe sighed internally. He supposed it had been a little idealistic to hope that Nosam's death would have been the end to everything. Now everything had gone to hell, and the dead sot was somehow still wrapped up in it. People generally didn't steal corpses unless they were planning to do something with it. The most obvious answer there would have been tied to the chair, but somehow Radcliffe doubted it would be that simple. And considering that whatever was going on was connected rather intimately with all the high level necromancy that had been flying around, a missing corpse was unlikely to just be a missing corpse. The guards escorted them through the keep, taking them to the armory and returning the belongings they had surrendered upon entry. Radcliffe took his sword back graciously, fastening it to his belt once again. It felt good to have the weight there, even if he almost never used the thing it held a certain amount of sentimental value for him. When the guardsman began laying out the collection of knives he had handed over Radcliffe shot a glance around at the others, particularly the two new comers, offering a cheeky, amused grin at anyone who looked surprised at the collection. And then they were outside again. The fresh air was a welcome relief to Radcliffe, and probably to the others since it had still been over a day since he had last washed, and it had been a very active and unpleasant day. The guards were as surly and unpleasant as ever, but Agent Smith managed to get them through without much hassle. The guards had made a typical low-brow comment on the way out. That would have been the end of it for Radcliffe, who had heard - and made - thousands of similar comments before. They meant nothing. Just the crass humor of crass men. That would have been the end of it, had Radcliffe not caught a glimpse at Smith's expression. Gods above, the man was actually embarrassed. That was much too good an opportunity for him to pass up. With a wide sardonic grin, Radcliffe Gave a laugh. "Ah, I'm afraid not, lads. The good Master Smith here is not my type. Much to his loss, aye?" Chuckling, he leaned in conspiratorially, as if he was about to whisper though he did not lower his voice in the least. "However, you may be on to something after all, if the looks I saw him giving the dwarf were any indication. Methinks he likes them short and hairy, aye?" Radcliffe clapped the guardsman on the shoulder, sharing a laugh with the two men before walking out through the gate. As he passed Smith, Radcliffe winked at him, and with a wry grin said, "Right, 'cupcake'?" re-using the dwarf's nickname for the man. True? Unlikely. Immature? Most certainly. Fair? Probably not, but it had been a very long day and Radcliffe was still a little sore about the whole wrongfully imprisoned affair. Smith was the closest thing to an authority figure present upon whom he could vent his frustrations. "Very well, Master Bombast, lead on," Radcliffe echoed the dwarf's sentiments. Part of him - most of him in fact - wanted to simply slip away into the first crowd they encounter and get lost in the chaotic mess that was Absalom. Leave the city behind entirely. Rationality however prevailed. If he attempted to run right now, at the very first opportunity, he had little doubt that his 'companions' would be upon him in an instant. The lass was too clever by half for her own good, and he knew that she was watching him closely. Though it was the agent who concerned him most; he was connected to the Intelligence Ministry. Kyra was observant, but she was about as subtle as an elephant. Smith was probably one of the most dangerous men in the city. So he would play along for the moment. He fell into step behind the young nobleman as they descended towards the city proper. It helped that their stated destination was a tavern. Radcliffe rarely passed up the opportunity for a drink, especially when someone else was footing the bill. Radcliffe ideally wondered if the Wench stocked anything from Cheliax. Chelish wine and spirits were said to be some of the finest in the world. They were also some of the most expensive, and Radcliffe had seldom had the opportunity to indulge. But with the Primarch himself picking up the tab...
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Bleach d20: Trouble in Paradise (HoF: 2015) [Co-DM] || Purge (HoF: 2017) [GM]
Last edited by Melchior; Jun 23rd, 2016 at 07:05 PM.
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#27
Jun 24th, 2016, 07:41 PM
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For the moment, Kyra was centered. Her energies were squared, and her posture was perfect as she propelled herself slowly but purposefully into the darkness.
It hadn't been easy by any means, but it had been a worthwhile exercise in self-control. She had to tangle with the fact she had momentarily felt a flash of hatred toward the mouthy guard. For that brief time, she intensely wanted to beat that man until he was ashamed of every nasty thought he'd ever had. He looked a bit like the sailor she'd had the unfortunate meeting with not much more than two days past, the one who'd suffered a broken nose, a dislocated finger, and a serious contusion in the general vicinity of his gonads. That was different, though. That man had violent intentions toward her. The guard at the keep's gate did not. It was that inkle that notified Kyra she'd drifted far from center, and renewed her focus on the demanding task of stifling her grief so it wouldn't morph into anger, ignoring her aching sadness so it couldn't turn to resignation, and getting back to herself immediately. Kyra Viru didn't have time to cry. Matching Thangaurdt's pace required her to shorten and slow her usual steps, so there was one to his two, and so he wouldn't have to accelerate from his already brisk saunter into a full run. "Thangaurdt," she said softly but clearly, loud enough for him to hear above the aural assault of shouts and screams that filled the acrid air of Absalom, "Brom fought with us, and he fell. He was taken to the Primarch's healers, but his wounds were very grave. He sacrificed to save the rest of us," Kyra said with the slightest quiver in her voice, using a thumb to point toward her mates in the battle against the demon soul. Whatever portion of he young student's well-trained perception wasn't consumed looking out for threats lurking in dark corners was firmly set on Brother Radcliffe. She hadn't let the priest out of her sight for more than two seconds, and she planned not to. She'd seen the knives when he handed them over upon their entrance to Azlanti Keep, and she saw them again. She watched him stow them each where he'd thought them concealed before. Kyra was fascinated by the oxymoron that was Radcliffe. She'd seen through his attempts to be surreptitious, and yet his best-kept secret was the genuine decency in his heart. She wondered why he worked so hard to conceal it. "The throne was right there, and I presume it still is. Right next to the Saucy Wench. Are you familiar with the place? I spent most of the day there. It's where I met Lord Gauthfollow. The owner, Lady Kythes Finch, is also the Captain of the Token Guard. It was her men who killed my brother--but as I said, they can't be held responsible. They were doing their jobs. Whatever created this false story about Vigg is what led to his death." Kyra picked up her pace. A light run would be required for the dwarf to keep up. She addressed the subdued investigator. "Agent Smith. Might you not want to have a look at the crime scene? It's on the way to the Wench. Perhaps it might provide a clue to what happened to Nosam's body?" She swallowed hard upon speaking the name. It wasn't Khair's name, but she'd already determined it wasn't a lie, either. It was the moniker he chose for himself, and a name is only a name--not a truth. Still, the words tasted sour on her tongue.
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"We don't stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing." ~George Bernard Shaw
Last edited by ItsaVerb; Jun 24th, 2016 at 07:56 PM.
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#28
Jun 25th, 2016, 05:06 AM
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'Sweet gods on high who are these people?' Lee was never very talkative, but he felt particularly speechless just then, 'Who says these sorts of things?' As it was, he managed to not over-react, though he still froze as Thanguardt and 'Brother' Radcliffe traded barbs and joking words with the guard. He looked over, eyes wide, when the man of the cloth (if he actually was) mentioned having some sort of affinity for dwarves - managed to rein in a look of panic when he called him cupcake. Though the priest's words had their intended effect, Agent Smith managed to arrange his face back into some form of neutral quickly enough.
His first steps were a little wooden as he kicked into gear to follow the group. Thankfully (though depressingly) the chaos of the city gave him more than enough to worry about without having to dwell on what had just happened. He was happy to have them talking among themselves of more serious matters. Agent Smith caught snippets of the Lady's words to the Duergar, and found there was quite a bit he didn't actually know about the particulars of the situation. He didn't slow when Kyra stepped up beside him, though he tilted his head to the side, even as he looked at the ground in front of him - much as he'd done while the Primarch was speaking earlier. Mulling over her request, he found the only objection he had to the idea was that it was one more thing between himself and sweet, sweet intoxication and eventual oblivion. 'That's not hardly a good enough excuse to bow your way out of responsibilities. Idiot.' He nodded his head as the lady monk finished, and he responded in his soft tones, "As you like it." Without further comment, he adjusted the course of his route. A slight quickening of the pace to come abreast of Mr. Bombast, and he veers away, headed directly towards the alleyway in question, without directions needing to be given. 'What in the world she thinks I'll find is beyond me...but to not make the attempt? With everything these people have been through today? At least I can do that right.' Last edited by SophieValentine; Jun 25th, 2016 at 10:56 AM.
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#29
Jun 26th, 2016, 08:16 PM
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As they made their way through the city, Radcliffe did his best not to notice the sorry state Absalom was in. He kept his gaze firmly downwards on the road in front of him so that he did not have to acknowledge the destruction all around them. Not a terribly easy thing to do when every breath carried with it the acrid smell of ash mixed with sea salt.
Even in the Wise Quarter, secluded and distant as it was, the signs of scarring could be found. Shattered windows and vandalized building. A ransacked shop whose door had been busted down. Many of the lovingly tended trees which lined the main avenue, which had always lent the area a stately atmosphere, had been broken or toppled entirely. It was a mess. And this was the Wise Quarter. If the situation was so bad that the scars of it could be seen even here, what would the rest of the city look like? Radcliffe's eyes involuntarily drifted upwards, towards the tall plumes of dark smoke rising up from the south. He grimaced and quickly averted his gaze again, focusing on the road in front of him. It was none of his concern. Flecks of dark ash covered the cobblestone. They passed a child crying in the street. It was a wretched looking thing, with red puffy eyes and a face made filthy from where it had scrubbed at its face while the tears had mixed with the dirt and ash. It made a pathetic simpering sound as it cried, having long ago cried itself hoarse or exhausted itself to the point where it could no longer muster up the energy. Filthy as it was, Radcliffe couldn't tell its gender. She seemed to be wearing what looked like a dress, and the long hair suggested girl, but one could never tell with some of the families around here. Their dress looked like it might have been fashionable once, but now it was filthy and torn. Just one more street orphan to add to the thousands that already inhabited a city the size of Absalom. It wouldn't be long before someone came along and forced her out of the 'respectable' districts. Most thought them as little more than pests, when they thought of them at all. Radcliffe wondered how many more of those had been made by the chaos. How many had been lost? Radcliffe kept his gaze forward. He didn't spare a glance for the child as they strode past, Sleight of hand check to surreptitiously toss 5 gold to the crying child. Dice Sleight of Hand:
Radcliffe had lived in Absalom for ten years. The City at the Center of the World. The Jewel of the Inner Sea. The greatest and grandest city in the entire world. He knew it streets, and its people. It was his home, and it hurt him to see his home in such a sorry state. But not so much that he was about to get himself killed playing hero at the behest of men who saw him as just another pawn in their game. Radcliffe preferred dice anyways. If anything, it was just another reason to leave before things inevitably got even worse. Kyra's suggestion that they investigate the scene of Nosam's death actually came as a relief to him. It shook him out of his own inner thoughts, and while it would mean a delay before they got to the tavern and the refreshments therein, it gave him something to distract himself with. "I don't know how much you would find, lass," he said, interjecting himself into the conversation despite the fact that he had not been asked, and Smith had already consented to the detour. "Between the earthquake, the flood and the riots, I imagine that any information you would find would be long gone. The guard had already taken the bodies away when we were there, remember? I don't know if they lost the corpse along the way, or if someone stole him from the mortuary, but I doubt you'll find clues to where he's gone in that alley. You'd probably want to ask the guard themselves, since they're the ones who lost it." "Still, I suppose it couldn't hurt to take a look, if only for verification's sake. Maybe we'll get lucky." While Radcliffe doubted that they'd find any evidence of where his corpse had gone, it was always possible that they'd find something else of worth. Perhaps a clue of why he'd been killed in the first place.
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Bleach d20: Trouble in Paradise (HoF: 2015) [Co-DM] || Purge (HoF: 2017) [GM]
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#30
Jun 26th, 2016, 10:47 PM
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Kyra had assured herself for years now that she was first and foremost a learner. In the two days or so since she'd set foot in Absalom, she'd learned more than she could reasonably cope with, but at least she knew those things were there.
Irori's students strive for individual enlightenment, and tend to take the 'do no harm' path as a fail-safe, and maybe even get inside themselves so much they observe, but forget to feel. Maybe it was just Kyra, but that's what she was thinking when she noticed Brother Radcliffe giving gold to the crying child. Kyra had heard the cry, but it was only part of the smear of sound she was fighting to push back so she could listen to her breathing and the beat of her heart. Meanwhile, Radcliffe heard and saw that one child's need and tended to it. And again he detached himself from his deed, like he didn't want to be held responsible for his own caring. Kyra had much to meditate on, and she was so tired. But there was no time to rest now. "You are right, Brother Radcliffe, and I do apologize," Kyra replied, taking a few steps silently. "Let's get us a drink and think a minute." Kyra was at once thankful for Smith's tepid agreement to her suggestion he snoop around the alley, and curious as to what his concern was in all this. He was probably glad when Radliffe talked her out of it that he wouldn't be put on the spot to be some sort of crime scene expert. Yes, certainly, a seat and a moment to collect themselves, if they could hope for so much, would best suffice.
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"We don't stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing." ~George Bernard Shaw
Last edited by ItsaVerb; Jun 26th, 2016 at 11:51 PM.
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