Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » FFT Roleplay {Open. Read First Post.}

The merchant behind the counter waved his farewells to the horned girl, sliding his hand on top of the counter top, sliding the coins into an open pouch. He soon draws the drawstrings of the pouch and sets the pouch underneath the counter-top.

Walking into the city's slums, the horned girl would notice the abundance of armed individuals and how rough they looked, and some even noticed the horned girl, giving her wry smiles...
Upon further travel, there an abundance of broken down houses and large, crates, turned into houses, draped with makeshift covers of fabrics stitched together. In front of one large pile, a large number of men sat about, talking to each other. The largest figure wore the blackest of armors, his pauldrons covered by the fur of a large, white wolf. His hair was a solid mass of brown and it shot upwards. A few other bandits seated themselves on the nearby crates, swinging their legs idly.

When the horned girl approaches, the boss bandit's steeled gaze falls upon her, "You lost, little girl? You just walked into the wrong part of Dorter..." He gestures his head towards the other bandits, giving a sharp whistle...Some of the bandits were smiling to themselves, hopping off of the crates..

Mr. Lambert's brow pinched together, as he looked away, towards the older lady and Tannis. His eyes fall on the tea-cups, saying softly, "No, no you don't." Tannis's hand offered the tray towards the two who were seated, her hazel gaze drifting towards the gnoll-lady's.

Mr. Lambert takes a cup of tea and blows idly on the liquid, sending steam outwards. Tannis's currved lips curled into a soft smile, her hazel gaze drifting to the free space upon the bench. Her fair face turns towards the old-lady, "Have a seat, please. I will serve the tea." The old-lady smiles a crinkly smile, and shuffles towards the last seat, "That's kind of you, deary." A few moments of shuffling brought the old-lady to turn, slowly, about, and slowly, seat herself down upon the bench. Her shakey hand reaches out and grasp a tea cup with both hands, letting the steam rise, as she closes her eyes and takes a somewhat deep breath.

Vannah remembered a young girl who, many years ago, had also found that when push came to shove she didn't have much of a choice, gave Lambert a not unsympathetic look and a light pat on the shoulder. "Leave it to us" she said with a wry smile. "We'll take care of you."

Either Tannis was completely oblivious to her gestures and words or else there was nothing wrong with the tea. In any case she accepted the cup from Tannis and held it thoughtfully in her hand for a moment. Thinking to herself, he waited until everybody was served then smiled at the old woman, nodding her head. "Thank you for your hospitality ma'am" she said politely. "We're very sorry to have dropped in on you like this. Do you get a lot of visitors i the night like this?" She hoped not. Viitors in the night seldom brought good news.

Silindra knew that she had found what she was looking for when she saw these men. She didn't look intimidated at all as man that seemed to be their leader spoke to her or when the men got off the crates. Instead she spoke to them instead. "I heard you guys were offering bounties, is that true? If it is, I would like to hear them."

She took her rod out in order to show that she was a dark mage..even if only a rookie one in the hopes that the bandits were take her a bit more seriously. The young lady then stood her ground as she waited to see what the bandits would do. Hopefully things would go well, but if they tried to attack, she would defend herself.

[Let's just say that by the time she got to the bandits, she had put away the money and potions ok?]

{Very well.}

The boss bandit’s arms cross over his black cuirass, his brows pinching together as he observed the much smaller femme. The other bandits lifted their brows, turning to look at each other, before slapping their knees and hollering to each other, “D’you here that?! She’s after the bounties! Oooh, I’m shaking in my boots!”

The boss bandit’s voice booms out, “Shut up!” The other bandits grow quiet, mumbling to each other, before putting their hands in their pockets and glancing towards the horned girl. The boss bandit’s neck tilts to the left and to the right, loud cracking sounds emitting from the motion. “Alright, little girl. I’m going out on a limb here, and I’m going to say you aren’t showing me a stick for no reason. If you are, well, tough luck.” His arms unfold and he continues, his right hand lifting up to brush its thumb against the underside of his nose, a sniff able to be heard, “All the bounties are likely at old Orbonne. That’s south of here, big church, can’t miss it. We’re planning on hitting it, around noon. If you can bring us any heads before then, we’ll pay you for saving us the trouble.”

The sunlight shone through the stained glass windows of the monastery, the warmth soon seeping into the high walls of the monastery. Mr. Lambert’s eyes remained upon the gnoll-lady, his shoulders rising and a sigh escaping his lips, “I guess that’ll have to do. Thanks.” A wry smile passes his lips, only momentarily, before he takes a cup of tea and brings it to his lips, taking the liquid within his mouth and swallowing it slowly, interrupting his drinking to blow lightly upon the tea.

Tannis’s stood still, holding the tray of tea cups outwards, while the old lady sipped quietly on the tea cup, her crinkled gaze closing slowly, “Not a problem, sweetie, I like company. Is it night-time already? Where does the time go…?” Her crinkled gaze squinted at the stained glass windows, while Tannis’s throat released a soft, amused sound, “Tis’ the early morning now, but, there is no one else here, nor, expected to be here.”

Silindra calmly ignored the bandits that were laughing at her. So what if she wasn't very large? You didn't have to be big to use magic. Instead she gave all of her attention to the bandit boss. "All right I'll head out there, but before I do, is there anyone in particular over there that you would like to see disposed off?"

Yeah she was planning to kill, but she figured that since they were planning to head over there anyway, she was just be shaving a few hours off their lives, maybe even giving them a quicker death. That being said, while she would take small fry if she needed to, she would prefer to just get one good bounty and be done with it. Besides, there was a limit on how meany heads she could carry anyway.

The boss’s lips pull into a snaggle-toothed grin, his arms unfolding from his chest, “Let’s see. I think the pig said something about two beasts and a stray merchant. Anyone else is extra, you hear?” The other bandits mumble between each other, staring at the horned girl, before shrugging and moving back to sit upon their crates.

The boss bandit sniffs, once, his right hand’s pointer finger itching underneath his nose, before her turns around and waves casually, “Get goin', its 1500 gold a head.” He stomps away, past a few other bandits, before pulling up a flap on a nearby building and ducking underneath it, letting the flap fall down.

((I apologize for the very infrequent posts!))

After some time and trekking, Mr. Black found himself at the Magick City of Gariland. Fortunately, there were no attacks along the way. He wasn't staying there long, though. Instead, he turned once he arrived at the outer limits of the city and went south, towards the coast. One would think that someone heading this direction had plans to visit Mullonde, but 'tis not the case here, as Mr. Black's destination lies, strangely, in the...sea. It will be a while before he reaches the coast, however.

{What's Orbonne btw?}

{Tis' fine, and it is the monastery.}

Silindra nodded and then promptly headed off before the bandits could change their mind about letting her go peacefully. Of course she didn't clung to the shadows as she headed to the Orbonne and started preparing herself mentally for what she had to do.

She had never killed a man(*that she knows of*) in her entire life, while she had always known that she would eventually stain her hands with the blood of men, she had never thought it would be this soon. On top of that, it would be for the sake of bandits no less. The horned girl knew that the nomands would be less then happy about this turn of events, but she would be killing men who wound be dead in a few hours anyway. It was better that she killed them so she could use the money towards destroying evil men rather then having the bandits do it.

Resolve...that was what her quest would take and she had the resolve to see it through, no matter what it cost her.

As the horned girl left the slums of Dorter, passing the crates and in-between dirtied ally-ways, there came a clearing of sunken earth. A strip of land connected the monastery, to the city of Dorter, and to the girl’s left, a medium sized crate floated along the water’s surface, a figure dressed in very-worn clothing, sat upon the crate. The man held a fishing pole between his hands, his gaze upon the water’s surface that rippled idly with the crate’s drifting motions.


The land between the church and the city of Dorter was a slowly inclining, and upon nearing the faded cobblestones outside the monastery’s grounds, several crates were stacked, almost packed, into the ground. Orbonne Monastary was settled upon a peninsula of land, its large wooden doors with bronze decorations running horizontally, above and below, the heavy bronze and ringed door-knob. The roof was highly slanted upwards, the material looking faded, but sturdy, in its early-morning teal. A black cross jutted outward from the very top of the monastery’s roof, its shadow looming across the land before it. Near the back of the building, what appears to be a wooden pathway, sticks out, into the water. The large, paned window, above the door, shines idly while the sunlight hits it.

In chill of the morning, dew clung to Xxyrrox's brown cloak- the only thing keeping him warm for the time being. Unfortunately he has been drifting on his crate for two hours now, his hands cold from the water and stale air. A slight breeze picked up, moving his cloak in long ripples. Letting out a heavy sigh, he let his pole droop as he gathered himself to pushing back to shore. Oh well, guess I'll look somewhere else for food. Coming upon the shore, Xxyrrox realized he was right next to a monastery, so he made his way to the front door and knocked. These places generally help people right? If they ever open the damn door that is...

The ground near the water's edge was sunken in, the giving earth and mud making walking difficult for the young lad. The horned girl would be the first to approach the monastary, with the young lad close behind. Not many travelled the strip of land; they were alone upon this trek.

Silindra stood in front of the monastery and took a deep breath. Once she entered there would be no turning back, never again would her hands be clean if she took this step. Yet even now that dreadful night played itself over and over again within her mind. She gripped her rob tightly in her hands as she heard the screams of the departed that were forever scarred upon her psyche.

Then without a single glance behind her, she headed into the monastery and passed the point of no return. The only witness to her falling being a young boy.

Seeing that none of the others was concerned about their tea, Vannah took a low sip of her own, blowing on the tea first. It had lemon in it, she thought. That was the extent of her tea knowledge though. Mostly she got by on water. Blinking, she peered up at the stain glass windows. It WAS morning! All that action last night had seemed to drag on and on. She smiled faintly. Well, if the angry mob had been going to attack them the they surely would have done so by now. Of course she refused to let her guard down so easily, pricking her ears up to listen to listen to the monastery and its noises. "Well, that was the longest night I've ever had in a while" she remarked to no one in particular, then grinned and nudged Lambert lightly. "It was almost too quiet, eh?"

The door handle to the monastary’s door was opened, the gnoll lady’s hearing able to pick it up. Mr. Lambert’s lips were placed upon the cup of tea, his gaze drifting towards the older lady as her hands held the tea cup within her grasp, until it cooled. Almost shaking, her frail hands lifted the cup to her lips and she sipped quietly.

Mr. Lambert’s attention drifts towards the gnoll lady, as Tannis leans back, upon the bench, her hands folding and interlocking behind her head, her fingers meshing together, as her bare feet stretch outwards, “Tis’ just quiet enough, I would say.”

The horned girl would enter the monastery to see four figures sitting upon a bench. One old lady in white and red robes, two figures dressed as squires, yet, one has a crossbow leaning against her hip, and a lean merchant with a large backpack nearby. The green dressed femme’s hazel gaze drifts towards the horned girl, her eyebrows rising delicately.

Before the young squire could reach the monastery, the horned girl had opened the large wooden door and stepped inside. The sounds of the Slums returned: fishermen pushing their makeshift boats into the water and grumbling to one another, figures leaving their houses with hammers and nails, pounding nails and boards into their makeshift houses, and bandits idly chatting to one another, while watching their surroundings.

Inside the city of Dorter, there was a strangely dressed young man walking the sloping streets of the upper district. He wore a straw hat, and other outlandish clothing. A few merchants that were moving to and fro, pushing carts or returning from the lower district, turned their heads and idly watched the young man move. The attention was short-lived, though, and they returned to their jobs. A few bandits, standing outside a large shop, watched the young man pass them. One was leaning up against the building, his head shaved, his arms crossed, and he says “Look at that one.” The other bandit, a portly, round faced bandit, turns to look, his scoff easily heard. “Don’t get too many like them. I hear outside meat is the best.” The portly bandit chortles and snorts, quite like a pig, and he wrings his grubby hands.