Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » The Hunters' Quarry [Full]

Current Roster: Sarah, Shion Sha' Shajiir, Steve Ruggles, Ravavyre, Tarsus Vervuek

This post is reserved for setting/story information and FAQ regarding the adventure.

The setting is a classic fantasy world, with magic being fairly rare, though not unheard of. Humans are the most common species, followed by elves, and then dwarves. For the purpose of the setting "Furry" characters are beast-race characters, and relatively rare.

The style is free-form; posts are written as though you were writing a short story, rather than following any particular form. I don't care how long or short a post is, as long as it helps the plot. In some cases, a short post may be better than a long one: don't feel required to write three paragraphs of flowery description if all your post needs to do is answer another character's yes-or-no question.

There are no dice-and-character-sheet mechanics involved in this story, because combat is not a central focus of the adventure. If it does occur, please observe the 3 second rule: a combat post can contain no more than 3 seconds of action and dialogue.

Auto-hits are only permitted against "minion" type NPCs; specifically, creatures that there are a LOT of, placed in the scene intentionally to play cannon-fodder, i.e. the goblins in the Mines Moria in The Fellowship of the Ring.";

"Oi!" The door to the tavern swung open and its squat, apron-clad and dwarven proprietor stepping out onto the street. "Jess what do you think ye're doin' there?"

The woman halted her actions, namely the pounding of a tack onto the sheet of cork board with the pommel of a black-hilted dagger, in order to turn towards him. "This is a notice board," she stated. "I am posting a notice." At first glance she appeared human to the dwarf; even with the hood of her dark green traveler's cloak down, her long ears disappeared into the mess of unkempt hair thrown behind her. The dark skin, along with the oblong pupils that became visible when she turned, quickly altered that perception, however.

"This'eer board's property of th' inn," he told her, without so much as tripping his words. The dwarf had no love for drow; all too often the two earthen races had been at each other's throats over mountains and underground territories. But this was a mixed city, and there was no ongoing war between their peoples, at least at that moment. "Yee got t' be a customer t' post bills."

"This is a public inn, on the outpost's edge," she stated, rather clinically. "You receive the greater share of the city's stranger traffic, do you not? Foreigners, unusual races... oddities?"

One of the dwarves eyebrows formed an arch; he didn't like the way the question was worded, though he couldn't quite place why. "This inn is faithful t' Andronus, avatar of just laws and intermediary o' the conflicts betwin' nations, races, and gods," he stated. "It'd be ag'inst his law t' turn away a trav'ler fer their race or homel'nd, and he'll not have strife o' that kind in these walls. 'Odd ones,' as yee call 'em, find sanctuary 'ere."

"How convenient it must be for your business to be blessed by a god who accepts all paying customers, but doesn't mind if you shackle a patron for their failure to pay their tab." The woman tossed a coin towards the innkeeper, silver ringing in the air before being caught by the dwarf. "I require a room, if there is one available, and a suitable hot meal."

The dwarf narrowed his eyes at the drow; he was not so simple as to have let the veiled accusation of greed go un-noticed. He could also not call himself a faithful follower if he let her words sway his treatment of her, however; instead he simply turned back towards the door, motioning for her to follow. "A'right, y'er parchment stays."

The pair disappeared inside the building, leaving the notice to flap lightly in the wind.


SELLSWORDS---TRACKERS---BOUNTY HUNTERS
ASSISTANCE REQUIRED FOR DANGEROUS PREY
EVEN SHARE OF HANSOM REWARD TO EACH MEMBER
SETTLED LOCAL RESIDENTS NEED NOT APPLY; PARTY WILL NOT RETURN TO POINT OF ORIGIN
INQUIRE WITHIN

(And here I be, comin on in~)

"What do you mean, three silver for the pelt? You do realize I spent over a damn week tracking the bugger and then an hour skinning and hacking off his antlers. I aint taking three measly silver for it, nuh uh, ten silver." A brunette woman slapped her palm onto the counter of the merchant stall she was standing at, glaring furiously at the pelt-trader/leatherworker who was looking just as grumpy as she was. The stall owner was a gruff looking swarthy man, heavily calloused and scarred from a lifetime of hunting and working a tannery. That is until he'd gotten his leg gored through by an angry boar and it'd been mangled to a point that he'd been forced to retire from hunting. His dark eyes were narrowed onto the slight figure of the female huntress who had brought him the impressive pelt and antlers of an eight point stag. But damn, she wanted to bleed him dry of coin for it!

"Listen 'ere Missy, I aint payin' fer yer effort, just fer the damn pelt and antlers. I don't give a hoot how long yer were out thar. Four silver." He growled, looming over the woman in an attempt to frighten her into giving in. Women hunting was something he didnt approve of, they were supposed to be at home with the children, tending the livestock and making sure their husbands were taken care of. Not off gallivanting in the woods and pretending to be somethin they werent!

The woman bristled, not in the least bit discouraged as the trader but rather furious he only went up by a single silver. "Eight silver, four each for the pelt and antlers." She offered sharply, shifting her weight and placing her hands on her wide hips. Despite the layers of leather armor and men's clothing, it was difficult to disguise her pear-shaped frame, though she didnt care to disguise her soft face much either.

"Nay, six silver." The man rumbled back.
"Uh no, seven." She retorted and it continued so on in a rapid fire succession. It grated on the tanner's nerves and he finally slammed his fist onto the counter with a snarl. "Fine then! Eight damn silver, yeh good fer nothin' wench."

Coin and merchandise were exchanged and the huntress snorted derisively at the brute, brushing off his insult as she turned heel and continued on her way. A hand was pressed against her stomach as it let out a protesting grumble, "Yeah, yeah. Food and drink and then a bed, sounds like a good plan to me." She muttered while making her way towards the outskirts of the city, hand resting on the hilt of her longsword that was strapped possessively to her left hip.

She gave pause at the tavern's notice board, dark eyes sweeping over the large poster that proclaimed a search for hunters and trackers, curiosity sparked, the human woman slipped into the inn and shuffled her way to the counter.

"Oi, who posted that notice about looking for trackers and such?" She hummed, taking a seat at the bar-top, fishing around in her pocket for the coin she'd just made to pay for a meal and board.

Two pale yellow eyes darted back and forth, looking at the inn and surrounding area in a careful, scrutinizing yet young and inexperienced manner. Two tall black ears twisted and flicked, taking in every sound of the surrounding area.
After a minute, the owner of the body parts stepped out of the shadows, his glossy black fur shining in the fading sunlight as he approached the inn and brushed a few leaves off of his bare, furred chest.
The Anubite had a false air of confidence about him as he approached the inn and honestly he was worried. Usually he was with one of his more experienced brothers and this was his first time alone in the northern regions of the world.
He plucked one more leaf out of his fur then opened the door and stepped into the inn.
Nomti was dressed in his usual attire of a skirt with white and red vertical stripes and a golden waistband. His wrists had golden bracers and he had golden anklets on as well. At his waist were two sickles, one on his left and one on his right. Their hilts were crafted out of gold and in the shape of ankhs. The blades themselves were viciously sharp and made of tempered steel.
His paw pads, still soft from walking on warm, fine sand for so long, made not a sound as he approached the bar.
"There's a dead man in one of these rooms. I am here for him."

((( I'm going to respond to Sarah first, and then deal with the other post, so that it doesn't look so much like Nomti is just barging in on a conversation, hopefully. )))

To the left of the door as the woman entered, what could best be described as a bronze statue... turned its head to face her. The face was composed of a single piece of metal incapable of moving to form any expression other than the one it had been wrought out of in the first place: staring eyes and the slightest hint of a frown. The rest of the golem was much the same; sculpted to look as much like a heavily-armored man as it could, unusual height and shoulder width notwithstanding.

Moments later, the door behind the bar to the kitchen opened, though for the first few seconds it would appear to have done so with as much a mind of its own as the golem had; the front door had tripped the hammer of its suspended bell when she walked in. The innkeeper stepped onto the taller platform, hidden behind the bar in order to allow him to meet his guests at eye level.

"Ev'ning, miss," he said, setting his hands on the countertop. "Don' mind ol' Copper. Ee's jess here for th' rowdier ones; ee'll settle down after yee've left your weapons with me."

"Oi, who posted that notice about looking for trackers and such?" She hummed, taking a seat at the bar-top, fishing around in her pocket for the coin she'd just made to pay for a meal and board.

"Oh, that..." the dwarf frowned, leaning over the counter so that he could lower his voice, short first finger pointing to the corner furthest from the hearth and front door. The drow woman was sunk deep into her chair, leaning over the table with elbows propped up on its edge. Her arms formed a triangle, with her hands clasped around her mug, untouched bowl of stew on the table in front of her. "Shifty type, if'n yee ask me. Don't look like she'd have a copper coin t' 'er name, but pulls silver out'a air when it's time t' pay for a room. Bad news, that one... feel sorry for whoever takes 'er up on that job."

The front door pealed its bell again, startling the innkeeper from his train of thought. "There's a dead man in one of these rooms. I am here for him."

"Oi!" the dwarf exclaimed, glancing towards the door before addressing the woman again. "If'n yee'll excuse me, miss..." he said, hopping off of the platform to turn towards the door. "Oi, creature! There's no dead 'n 'ere, an' Andronus'll allow no hex t' make it so... not in these walls. If'n yee come here for food, drink, or rest, we'll see to it jess as soon as yee've left your weapons 'ere with me. If not, I'll 'ave t' ask yee to leave the premisses."

The bronze statue earned a wary glance from the huntress, she didnt like the way it stared at her, sending chills down her spine. But the mild chill of paranoia at the base of her spine was brushed aside in favor of regarding the dwarf who had just appeared, "I suppose my word isnt enough to ensure I wouldnt cause trouble, huh?" She remarked conversationally, reaching to unhook the scabbard of her longsword and offer it over to the innkeeper, along with the sheathe to a hunting dagger that had been strapped to her thigh.

Head tilted slightly to peer subtly at the drow sitting in the corner of the inn, she had dealt with a Drow only once before and never met any of their Elvish cousins, the experience itself had been tense and left the brunette with a sour taste in her mouth. The dwarf's words were listened with a keen ear, "I may inquire about it regardless, just to know the specifics." She mused and absently rubbed a finger against her nose. "Well, either way, room and two meals, please." The appropriate coin was fished out and placed onto the counter, just as the door swung open and another stranger walked in.

The Anubian's words made the woman snort, "And who are you to play the whims of Death?" She turns in her chair to eye the furred beast, a rarity to see, even for one as well traveled as the huntress. "You're from the deserts bordering the river Nile, arent you?" She'd been there, seen the temples and the dark skinned men and women, worshipping their animal headed gods and goddesses. "What in Odin's name are you doing up north?" Kinda nosy, but she couldnt help her curiosity.

"On the contrary, there's a dead man in there. Not murdered, just old," Nomti explained and pointed to a door then set his sickles on the counter, but the moment they left his hands, they reappeared on his hips.
"My weapons cannot be removed," he explained then walked towards the door he had pointed to earlier, opened it as if there were no lock of there was one and stepped in. Sure enough, there's was an old man, dead in his chair and with a book in his lap.
Nomti walked towards him and placed the flat of his sickles on either side of the mans head and uttered a chant. Nothing happened that could be seen, but his soul was sent to his respective afterlife.
"I am here for the souls you have forgette about."

{Seems to be quite a hand-full, here. Best to help out by throwing more trouble into the mess~}

In a cottage, a fair distance from any large settlement, two sisters lived.

A stocky, and highly feline form was standing inside the door of the cottage, her hand raised and waving fare well to the taller, thinner female form. "Be safe and come back soon!"

The taller, thinner form smiles softly and waves, as she sets off towards to her first destination.
Shion's hair had grown long, a blue-green ribbon tying it up in a top-knot, the excess hanging down, behind her head. Shion's skin was of a deep tan resembling caramel, and her facial features sharpened, almost cat-like. Her form was covered by a black, silk kimono, with white, flower designs along the stomach area and all about the back. A red obi (type-of-belt) was worn around the waist and tied in the front; a faded white sheath settled within it, upon the left side, the curve and the length depicting the blade inside to be of eastern make. Upon the other side of the obi, a peculiar weapon, resembling a sickle, but larger; a shotel. The shotel was not sheathed, however, the tip of the blade was currently facing behind Shion's form. The kimono's fabric leaves the shins free of fabric, Shion's footsteps making soft clopping sounds, her getas (type-of-clogs) pressed firmly into the pathway.

Shion's right hand lifts up, shielding her bright, blue gaze from the sun. Lowering her hand, her sharp lips smirk, having spotted the settlement of sorts. Shion's getas pick up the pace as her long stride brings her towards the tavern...her hand reaching towards the door, before her bright, blue gaze snaps to a piece of parchment tacked onto a board. Shion's form straightens up and she walks over to the board, her right hand's thumb placing itself against the words, her bright, blue gaze drifting side to side. Then her sharp lips smirk, "I bet bounty hunting pays well." Shion's form rotates, the getas shifting quickly upon the dirt, and she walks back to the door, pushing it open casually, with her right hand.

(Aw :c okay... He's only a grim reaper when he needs to be. He can't just kill someone instantly, but I can leave)

Desperate times call for desperate measures. Stevie, although young, was travelling alone and her funds were growing smaller and smaller as each day passed her by. This was typical, and to be honest she didn't even expect her money to have lasted as long as it did. Needless to say, she was hitting up every job board in town in an attempt to inquire about work. Hey, at least she was trying to make an honest living?

That was quite the opposite to her normal way of doing things, so at least it was a good change. Now, unable to secure a job for the evening or in the morning, she resorted to finding a room and searching again tomorrow. She really didn't want to have to fall back to petty thievery. As she made her way to the doors of the inn, she just barely realized she had yet to search around this particular building for a nearby board. Once she found it, there was a surge of hope go through her when she laid eyes upon the paper. Her timing was impeccable, considering when she saw it, it had only been about twenty or thirty minutes after it was put up.

The Halfling went inside, shrugging into her tiny cloak. It was a little chilly for her liking, but who was she to complain? For now, the tiny creature appeared within the inn, standing there awkwardly and in search of the one who put up the ad.

She saw the drow woman waiting, though not right away. She inched closer, watching. "S'cuse me, you waitin' on somebody?" Stevie was the master at talking to people (not). To be honest, she was merely testing the waters, trying to see if maybe she could strike up conversation and learn if she was or knew the one who needed assistance.

(I hope you don't mind, I was getting really excited and kinda didn't want to wait too long!)

Walking down the street with a skip to her step, and a whistle from her lips, was none other than the half-human, half- drow, Ravavyre. Everyone in the past few villages did not take too kindly to Drow's but her skin color was so light and her eyes green instead of a normal Drow color, everyone believed her little lie. What was her little lie, you ask? Oh, that her father was an Eldarin and her mother a dark skinned human. The white hair color she claimed came from her Eldarin father, and her beautiful green eyes from her dark mother. The truth though? Well, that would have to be found out!

Ravavyre's lie often made people come to like her more, she was a very friendly woman, who loved her Dwarven Ale, and simply loved being the center of attention. Another love of hers, you asked? Gold, rubies, jewels of all sorts... Speaking of gold, she flipped a gold coin in her gloved left hand and grasped it, grinning from low, pointy ear, to low pointy ear. "Hell yeah, that was a sweet ass job!" She chuckled oh so happily. Her right hand shouldered her cross bow higher up on her back, just to keep it from swinging side to side if she decided to do a little dance. Why did she love gold so much? Well, she was a damned thief and a good one at that. A thief, and a hired hand.

At first the half-drow walked right past the notice board. But she stopped after a few feet, her foot hovering for another step as she bit her lip. 'I don't need it, I don't need it...' she began to chant to herself, but she quickly found herself in front of the board. After re-reading the notice her eyes almost turned into little gold coins. "I neeeeed it!" She bit her lip, realizing her outburst was...well, an out burst. She cleared her throat, hidden her couple of gold pieces, and opened the door of the inn.

(Apologies, been terribly busy~ I'll just post anew next round, yush.)

((( @ Shion Sha' Shajiir/Ravavyre )))

"Come on in," the innkeeper idly called from behind the bar, whenever a newcomer tripped the bell above the door. "Weapons on th' counter please; Copper won't let yee past th' foyer 'til yee do." The woman he'd been speaking to seemed to have become distracted, so he turned his attention to the new faces instead. "What'll it be? Yee aren't one'a my reg'lars... so yee be needin' a meal, a room, or some work, eh?"

~~~~~

((( @ Steve Ruggles )))

The drow woman lifted her eyes from her cider, blinking into the haze of the in. She had to sit up and lean forward to get a decent view of the speaker; when slumped into her chair the table obscured all but the top of the halfling's head. "No one person in particular," she said, electing not to answer the question directly. "Who might you be?" Here eyes narrowed as she examined the creature: a quick shift into the more magical side of her vision, though the glance likely appeared as more of a critical gaze to an outsider.

Steve gave a gentle roll of her shoulders. Her hands popped out of her cloak, moving to connect behind her head in a gentle braid of fingers. "No one special. Steve," she answered. Her voice was gruff, though medium. Like a child. A boyish child, even, but still a child. "Do you happen to know if anyone in here put up an ad on the notice board? If they're present? If you don't, s'allright. I'll go ask someone else."

She was friendly enough as far as her tone of voice went, and would likely keep a smile on her face at all times despite her nervousness when she realized the drow woman's expression wasn't outright happy.

Ravavyre seemed surprised to see this 'copper' and while she felt uncomfortable at the thought of leaving her items behind, she figured it was for the best, "A little of all of that, my good sir." the half drow pulled the hand cross bow from her back, placed it on the counter, "I can count on you for the safety of my items, right?" She asked with a raised brow. Then came the arrows for the cross bow, and then a short sword. But that wasn't all, about three more daggers made an appearance and were laid on the counter. And hell, even a pouch of throwing knives. The woman had a lot of belongings, but that was because she looted anything she either knocked unconscious, or killed.

After making sure she had everything off of her person that could be deemed a weapon, she gave herself another pat down. "Anyways, so yes, a good meal, and a room. How much would that be?" As she asked the question, her pointed ears would twitch up and down. But then she realized she hadn't been alone in the demanding to remove weapons, she took a glance at shion, and had to admit the femme had a good look to her.

((( @ Steeve )))

One of the drow's eyebrows arched at the halfling. "You, here for the notice?" She sounded rather unconvinced. "So you fancy yourself and adventurer, then." She considered for a moment; the halfling certainly didn't look like the sort of creature she'd want at her back in a scrap, but if nothing else, the name was just the sort she was looking for...

"Come, sit," she said, offering the halfling one of the seats at the table. "I am called Rynnion. The notice outside is mine."

~~~~~

((( @ Ravavyre )))

"Yee've nothing t' worry," the dwarf reassured her. "Rule's jess' t' keep th' inn neutral ground, so t' speak. An' of course, t' keep the sneaky types from slippin' out without settlin' their tabs," he chuckled. "Th' rate's one silver for the night, two meals and th' first drink included."

"Oh wow, only one silver for all of that?" Ravavyre had been in the more ritzy places the past few days, the hot spot touristy, so she had gotten accustomed to everything being a bit higher priced. It was wonderful to be back in an area like this, she wouldn't find all of her money missing the next day! She hummed softly to herself, "My oh my I feel like this day is getting better." she chuckled and pulled out a decent coin purse, poking an eye and finger in there, knocking gold piece off to the side after gold piece, until finally she could a few silvers. She hummed and pulled out a gold piece as well as a silver, "Listen, I don't normally do this, but I'm in a damn good mood right now. If you are able to tell me who put that notice up, I will hand over this gold piece, and for a round on me. And I still have the silver for the room and my food."
Yes, this was something she rarely ever did, only had it done for her a few times, but she still wondered if the custom was welcomed in this region. That was all she needed, to be thrown out on her ass before getting another job.

Steve let the cowl of her cloak fall at her shoulders, a hand coming up to scratch a pointed ear. She didn't feel it appropriate to approach the front, where she'd give her weapons. Because, to be honest, she had none! Yep! At least none with her. She expected a day of shoveling horse crap or helping on a farm or scrubbing something that really needed it. She didn't expect a potential adventure!

The Halfling took a seat and nodded. "Oh, it's yours then!" she said, smiling big. "Nice t'meet ya. Can you tell me about it? You mentioned dangerous prey, what might that be?" She wasn't a murderer by any means, but she could easily be swayed to defending something to that extent. If whatever it was Rynnion was up against did a single thing that they probably shouldn't have done, Stevie would feel justified. The justification helped keep her from feeling too guilty about acquiring money for these acts. It was probably a bit dumb, but it helped her sleep at night. Not like she'd admit this to anyone.

The brunette huntress contented herself with observing the new arrivals and generally just relaxing in the warm atmosphere of the inn but when Steve so easily approached the Drow woman sitting in the corner, she decided to stop dawdling about. Leaving the counter, Sarah sauntered over to the table and paused a respectful distance away, "Sorry, dont intend to interrupt but I'm also intrigued about your little poster there." She made an idle gesture towards the door, hands returned to being folded in front of her.

"Mind if I sit?" She politely waited for an answer before -hopefully- also taking a seat and leaning back with a curious tilt of her head. Making a motion for the Drow to continue speaking, she would reserve her questions until after.

Shion's thin form stood in the middle of the room, her bright blue gaze drifting between those gathered here. A sound escapes her throat, a subtle "Hmm", and her bright blue eyes land upon the dwarves figure, dropping a little to put him into sight. Shion's sharp lips quirk into a smile, her clogs clopping, as she walks up to the counter-top. "My, aren't you observative." Shion's right hand places itself upon the counter-top, her form towering over the dwarf, as her eyebrow quirks, subtly upwards, her head tilting away, "Depends on who's cooking. I don't need a bed, not yet."

Shion's shoulders lift upwards, her blue eyes closing briefly, as she shrugs, "I guess I can do that." Her left hand catches the off-white sheathe near the middle, a few tugs releasing it from the obi. Shion's left hand places it firmly upon the counter-top, her bright, blue eyes upon the dwarf, "Make sure to grab the it in the middle, we wouldn't want you to accidentally cut yourself." Shion's sharp lips quickly form a chiding smile, until her right hand grabs the dark-leather handle of the shotel, placing it upon the counter-top as well. Shion's form then turns her back to the dwarf, her hands on the counter-top, and her legs stretching outward. Shion's bright, blue gaze drifts between those within the room again.