Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » Oops... A Hobbit's Tale (1 More Member Allowed)

He looked at Crysor. He shrugged and lowered his gun. His hand still on it's trigger and ready to fire. "You from around here?" He pointed at the man with his gun. "Did you take residence in this town?"

"First off, lower that damn weapon. Small entry point and minimal external damage, but do you know how much of a hassle it is to do surgery on the wounds?" He made a wave of dismissal with one hand, as if to say that he really didn't feel like going through the process of explaining. After a few moments of internally debating just how little he could get away with telling these strangers, he shrugged.

"I'm from around. Where isn't important. No I didn't live here. Would either of you happen to know what the hell is going on, and who'd I'd have to talk to to shut it up?" His hopes weren't high, and he was a pragmatist at heart, but a man could always dream, right?

Crysor instinctively glanced over at the unconscious Kori. He had an odd desire to protect the bumbling little hobbit, and he was gonna punch whoever tried to kill him next.
This new guy, if he figured out that Kori was partially to blame for all the chaos and destruction, could potentially go after him too.
Just to be on the safe side, he readied himself to jump to the aid of the little idiot.

"You honestly aren't trying to make a good first impression are you?" He lowered his weapon a bit, his gaze still set on the mans now and knife. " I know exactly who did it." He patted the little hobbit's back with a grimy hand. "But he has been beaten up enough for one day, we honestly do not want him dead." He looked over at Crysor and nodded as if to say he seems fine but stay alert.

Crysor gave an almost imperceptible nod of the head, sticking his bow back in its quiver. Not like he needed it out anymore, and he was a quick draw if he did need it. No worries.

"I'm not here to make friends, so I'm not much one for giving a damn what your opinion of me is." His shrug was nonchalant. He wasn't overtly hostile, but at the same time he made it clear that he had no intention of pulling any punches. Putting his index and thumb on his temple and rubbing slightly, he sighed.

"Alright, look. Wrong foot. Little guy started it? Don't care. Only thing that matters is how to end it, and if killing him won't make that happen, then I won't kill him. Simple, really. I'm not here looking for a fight; I'm a hunter, not some bloodthirsty barbarian meathead." His hands lowered from his head to his side again. Then, he closed the gap towards the man with the gun, since he seemed to be the spokesman of the group. Stopping within arm's reach, he held out a hand.

"Seems like we're both out for the same thing. So, you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours. We got a deal?"

Raden shoved the man out of the way. "I'm sorry but I don't give a damn about scratchin your back and hell, I don't want you scratchin mine." He kept walking and gestured for Crysor to follow. "You may follow if you want lad." He pointed at the man they had just met on the road. "But we can't guarantee your safety." He cocked his pistol and grinned. "Next town we NEED to wake this little hobbit up." He wiped spit off of his sleeve. "He is drooling a pool over here."

With one large hand, Crysor plucked Kori off his shoulder and cradled him in one arm. He hung back, making a scratching movement with one long finger and looking at Shaito quizzically.
Falen wasn't his boss. Crysor was still working somewhat solo, and he would like all the help he could get.

He looked over at Crysor and the man. "Yall coming now?" He rattled the fold coins in his pocket and kept walking.

There was a sour look on his face for about half a second, though he quickly got rid of it. The words that the man had used were ones he'd mirrored in many a similar circumstance himself, so to be offended by them now would be hypocritical. Besides, that was just the way he liked it anyways. The fewer strings attached, the better off it was for all involved parties.

"The means don't matter, so long as the end is achieved." This was muttered to himself, though he really didn't know whether those men would be sensitive enough in the ears to pick up his words or not. Fishing around in one of his vest pockets, he procured a small glass vial with a cork in the top that was a little less than a quarter full of small crystalline powder. He offered it to the elf with a shrug.

"Smelling salts. Hold it under his nose for a bit; if that won't wake him, nothing will." His voice was devoid of anything even approaching compassion despite his generous offer. An extra pair of hands would be useful, after all, and even if they weren't, that would still free up a pair that would no longer be preoccupied with dragging around an unconscious body. Without another word, he fell into step alongside the rest, though he remained a few paces away, keeping a respectful distance.

Crysor tilted his head slightly, his elf ears picking up his words. He nodded in thanks, however, taking the salts and holding them under Kori's nose.
The hobbit was silent a moment, then jolted like he had gotten electrocuted. His large amber eyes were wide with fear at the sights of Falen and this new guy; unsure what to do with himself, he curled into a defensive ball like an armadillo, his arms over his head to protect himself.

Falen laughed. "Don't worry, I am done beating you senseless for now." He looked at the man they had just met on road. "And oh yeah, this gentleman here is going to be following along if you don't mind." He then turned sharply on his heels grind up the dirt road as he turned and walked, his black boots crunching the rocks and leaves beneath him.

"'If you don't mind', he says. Don't be fooled; I'm following along whether you like it or not." Otherwise, the powers that be would never stop moaning at him to get up and take care of the problem. Not that he had any intention of explaining to any of them why exactly he was following along on their little quest. For all intents and purposes, it simply didn't matter. Feet bare, he made very little noise as he walked, and that which he did make was usually breathing or the slight rattling sound of the arrows in his quiver shifting about.

Kori considered making a run for it as Crysor set him down gently. He decided that was a particularly dangerous idea, considering everyone could probably outrun him and Falen had a gun.
Besides, Crysor was, at this point, a form of protection. The elf seemed to care somewhat what happened to him, so he decided to stick around for his own personal health.
But dammit, the next person who went after him was being kicked in the shins, and it was gonna hurt.

Faleb, oddly, cheerfully skipped along. He pulled out a map and a few gold coins, he pranced down singing a dark song. "To the depths if hell we go! To the depths if hell we go! Oh! Will we return? Nobody knows! To the depths of hell we go!" He pulled out a flute from his pack and started playing. This was definitely not your regular Falen.

Crysor raised an eyebrow at him, wondering if he was on drugs or something. Kori just followed along silently, kicking a few rocks ahead of him.

He stepped back and grabbed Kori's shoulder and pulled him up. "Let us be jolly while we can!" He started doing a small jig. He laughed charmingly. "Go along! Be cheery!" His eyes passed Crysor's, his eyes had changed, they went from blue to yellow and red. "TO THE DEPTHS THE HELL WE GO!" He repeatdly sang.

Kori flinched away instinctively; it would take a while before he could build the trust level up again.
Crysor frowned slightly, noticing the change. Ever so silently he slowly reached for the elven hunting knife on his belt. Hopefully he wouldn't have to use it, but he didn't know what was going on and he would rather be safe than sorry.

He was still doing his little jig and singing his song. "Don't be shy! Be jolly instead!" He retrieved his map and looked over. "We'll we are somewhat close to a town!" He did a big smile. He then noticed Cryaor reaching for his bow. A hand shot to his cutlass. "No need for anyone to get hurt now is there, 'Crysor'."

Crysor cocked his head in question, wondering why he was acting so odd and in characteristic of himself and had creepy eyes changing colors.
That was all he wanted to know. Once he learned that, he would take his hand off his knife hilt, but only then.