Exploring the city ~ Roland
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Ilaria da'Margeir.
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Exploring the city ~ Roland
Zhanna walked in silence with Roland for a few flickers, trying to decide where to take him first. She quickly decided that it would be best to show him the marketplace. Falling into a steady walk, she eyed Roland out of the corner of her eye. "So, Sir Roland, tell me about your brave exploits from before you arrived at our fair city."
Now we gotta make the best of it, improvise, adapt to the environment, Darwin, shit happens, I Ching, whatever man, we gotta roll with it.
Veritas vos liberabit
Image is copyright Electra and www.project812.com
Veritas vos liberabit
Image is copyright Electra and www.project812.com
-
Roland Mekaraz
Roland smiled easily at Zhanna's comment, grateful for a chance at a conversation. The marketplace, with all its bustle and din, was fast approaching them, and he wanted to have some talk with the woman. Made the walk all the better...
But what to tell her? Well, brave exploits, if that's what she wants to hear. But a little part of Roland didn't want to bullshit her; he'd always thought it was wrong to exaggerate or lie about yourself, or anything for that matter. The facts were the facts... and maybe one day they'd be remembered as brave.
"You're too kind, mistress Zhanna, and no need for the "sir" either. I'm just Roland. I was a soldier for the Count and nation of Dragonskeep, Kerac Regiment. You speak of brave exploits yet I wouldn't call my service that. It was my duty."
Roland started to remember clearer now: the day the Regiment had left Dragonskeep, their first skirmish outside the Downs... their great, glorious assault on Kings Court itself.... and all that followed after...
"I was part of the siege on Kings Court, in fact my regiment was one of the first up the walls. We fought, and we killed, and we were defeated..."
Roland's voice trailed off a little sadly, remembering that day, glorious and shattering in the same few hours. he remembered the exhilaration and the passion with which he'd killed... God, how many had it been that day? His arms ached afterwards, and he was almost painted with blood...
"So that's all I've got to give you regarding brave exploits, mistress. After that, I killed a superior officer and was sentenced to death-"
He paused for a brief second, wondering if the woman would react, but carried on regardless if she did.
"I decided that wasn't going to happen and escaped. I got back to my tent and went on the run with my equipment but then some men from my regiment saw he. They chased me down an alley and... I was here."
Roland still didn't what had happened to him that night, and had given up trying to figure out. Soon as he had some free time again, he'd go hunt down a wizard and get some answers.
"That's all you really need know, mistress Zhanna. Now I'm a soldier without a war, and to be frank with you, I need one..."
Roland kept walking, keeping pace with the sprightly woman, and waited with silent expectation for her answer
But what to tell her? Well, brave exploits, if that's what she wants to hear. But a little part of Roland didn't want to bullshit her; he'd always thought it was wrong to exaggerate or lie about yourself, or anything for that matter. The facts were the facts... and maybe one day they'd be remembered as brave.
"You're too kind, mistress Zhanna, and no need for the "sir" either. I'm just Roland. I was a soldier for the Count and nation of Dragonskeep, Kerac Regiment. You speak of brave exploits yet I wouldn't call my service that. It was my duty."
Roland started to remember clearer now: the day the Regiment had left Dragonskeep, their first skirmish outside the Downs... their great, glorious assault on Kings Court itself.... and all that followed after...
"I was part of the siege on Kings Court, in fact my regiment was one of the first up the walls. We fought, and we killed, and we were defeated..."
Roland's voice trailed off a little sadly, remembering that day, glorious and shattering in the same few hours. he remembered the exhilaration and the passion with which he'd killed... God, how many had it been that day? His arms ached afterwards, and he was almost painted with blood...
"So that's all I've got to give you regarding brave exploits, mistress. After that, I killed a superior officer and was sentenced to death-"
He paused for a brief second, wondering if the woman would react, but carried on regardless if she did.
"I decided that wasn't going to happen and escaped. I got back to my tent and went on the run with my equipment but then some men from my regiment saw he. They chased me down an alley and... I was here."
Roland still didn't what had happened to him that night, and had given up trying to figure out. Soon as he had some free time again, he'd go hunt down a wizard and get some answers.
"That's all you really need know, mistress Zhanna. Now I'm a soldier without a war, and to be frank with you, I need one..."
Roland kept walking, keeping pace with the sprightly woman, and waited with silent expectation for her answer
Last edited by Roland Mekaraz on Thu Dec 01, 2005 1:38 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Ilaria da'Margeir.
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Zhanna raptly listened to Roland's tales of his life before Sabata. She listened, eyes wide, to his story about being a knight in Dragonskeep. At the end of his talke, she nodded decisively. "Well, if you are looking for a war, Roland, we most certainly have one for you, although it is more of a...private war. But it's a war nontheless." Zhanna would say no more afer that. It would be up to the others to discuss the situation with Roland.
As they approached the market, the sounds and smells overwhelmed the pair. The distinctive smell that one could only find in a market, the smell of flowers, cooking meats and vegetables, exotic perfumes and spices, and the scent of too many bodies crowded into one tiny space lingered in the air, while the calls of the merchants peddling their wares could be heard. It was precisely for this reason that the two did not notice that a heavily scarred human man had been following them since they left the tavern. He snuck up behind Zhanna, and without a word, proceeded to place his blade at the side of her neck. "Don't move a muscle, or I'll slice your pretty little neck in two," he whispered grimly. A sly smile overtook Zhanna's face as she replied, "We'll just have to wait and see, now won't we?"
Her movements a blur, Zhanna grabbed the man's wrist and, despite his massive size, proceeded to flip the man over on to his back. Just as fast, his foot shot out and knocked Zhanna over. The two wrestled in the sands of the marketplace, with the other market patrons walking past, seemingly oblivious, for what seemed like burns, until Zhanna emerged the victor, straddeling the massive man's chest and effectively pinning him down to the ground. Gasping for air, she managed to spit out, "A fair fight sir, but I think that I've won this round." She proceeded to get up, dust herself off, and proffered her hand to the fallen man. He sheepishly smiled, took her hand, and sprang to his feet. "A fair fight indeed. And who is this that you have with you?" Zhanna smiled at Roland and said, "Roland, meet Damien. You two will probably be getting to know each other very soon. Roland might be helping our group out" Damien stuck out his hand and said, "Pleased to meet you, Roland! Welcome to our fair city of Sabata, home to the most malicious cutthroats and theives!"
As they approached the market, the sounds and smells overwhelmed the pair. The distinctive smell that one could only find in a market, the smell of flowers, cooking meats and vegetables, exotic perfumes and spices, and the scent of too many bodies crowded into one tiny space lingered in the air, while the calls of the merchants peddling their wares could be heard. It was precisely for this reason that the two did not notice that a heavily scarred human man had been following them since they left the tavern. He snuck up behind Zhanna, and without a word, proceeded to place his blade at the side of her neck. "Don't move a muscle, or I'll slice your pretty little neck in two," he whispered grimly. A sly smile overtook Zhanna's face as she replied, "We'll just have to wait and see, now won't we?"
Her movements a blur, Zhanna grabbed the man's wrist and, despite his massive size, proceeded to flip the man over on to his back. Just as fast, his foot shot out and knocked Zhanna over. The two wrestled in the sands of the marketplace, with the other market patrons walking past, seemingly oblivious, for what seemed like burns, until Zhanna emerged the victor, straddeling the massive man's chest and effectively pinning him down to the ground. Gasping for air, she managed to spit out, "A fair fight sir, but I think that I've won this round." She proceeded to get up, dust herself off, and proffered her hand to the fallen man. He sheepishly smiled, took her hand, and sprang to his feet. "A fair fight indeed. And who is this that you have with you?" Zhanna smiled at Roland and said, "Roland, meet Damien. You two will probably be getting to know each other very soon. Roland might be helping our group out" Damien stuck out his hand and said, "Pleased to meet you, Roland! Welcome to our fair city of Sabata, home to the most malicious cutthroats and theives!"
Now we gotta make the best of it, improvise, adapt to the environment, Darwin, shit happens, I Ching, whatever man, we gotta roll with it.
Veritas vos liberabit
Image is copyright Electra and www.project812.com
Veritas vos liberabit
Image is copyright Electra and www.project812.com
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Roland Mekaraz
Roland didn't quite know what to think of this hulking, disfigured man who'd barely flickers ago had threatened to kill his new friend. Where he came from such actions did not mean friendship.
But remember Roland, you aren't at home anymore.
A friendly smile slid onto Roland's face and he grasped Damien's hand, shaking it firmly as he spoke. "Good to meet you Damien. From what I gather you seem like the kind of man I can get along with."
With that he withdrew his hand and turned back to Zhanna, smile still playing upon his face.
Roland chose his words carefully here, not wishing to give too much of what he thought away. From what Zhanna had said and Damien's appearance, someone was recruiting mercenaries for a "private" war. Then again, Roland needn't have worried really.
A war was a war, and so long as combat and pay awaited him, that was good enough for him.
"Mistress Zhanna, do all your compatriots greet you with a knife on the throat? Or only the one's you... work with?"[/i]
But remember Roland, you aren't at home anymore.
A friendly smile slid onto Roland's face and he grasped Damien's hand, shaking it firmly as he spoke. "Good to meet you Damien. From what I gather you seem like the kind of man I can get along with."
With that he withdrew his hand and turned back to Zhanna, smile still playing upon his face.
Roland chose his words carefully here, not wishing to give too much of what he thought away. From what Zhanna had said and Damien's appearance, someone was recruiting mercenaries for a "private" war. Then again, Roland needn't have worried really.
A war was a war, and so long as combat and pay awaited him, that was good enough for him.
"Mistress Zhanna, do all your compatriots greet you with a knife on the throat? Or only the one's you... work with?"[/i]
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Ilaria da'Margeir.
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Damien nodded his assent to Roland's statement. "Aye, despite my appearance, I'm not a hard person to get along with. It took Zhanna here quite a while to figure that out."
Zhanna poked Damien in the ribs. A glint flashed in her eye as she responded. "Well, you know what they say, 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer'." When Damien's face fell, she laughed. "Now, now. You know I'm only joking. At that point in time, yes, you were my enemy. But now I don't know what I would do without you." She turned to Roland and spoke. "I know what your thinking. Damien is one of my dearest, most trustworthy friends. I shall have to tell you the story of our friendship sometime. It's one that makes women sigh, and men envy." She poked Damien in the ribs again, just for good measure. "And now that this great oaf has slowed our tour of the city, I'm afraid we're going to miss something good. What would you like to see first? We could go to the armory, my shop, or we could go watch one of the various plays that the street performers put on It's up to you, noble guest."
Zhanna poked Damien in the ribs. A glint flashed in her eye as she responded. "Well, you know what they say, 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer'." When Damien's face fell, she laughed. "Now, now. You know I'm only joking. At that point in time, yes, you were my enemy. But now I don't know what I would do without you." She turned to Roland and spoke. "I know what your thinking. Damien is one of my dearest, most trustworthy friends. I shall have to tell you the story of our friendship sometime. It's one that makes women sigh, and men envy." She poked Damien in the ribs again, just for good measure. "And now that this great oaf has slowed our tour of the city, I'm afraid we're going to miss something good. What would you like to see first? We could go to the armory, my shop, or we could go watch one of the various plays that the street performers put on It's up to you, noble guest."
Now we gotta make the best of it, improvise, adapt to the environment, Darwin, shit happens, I Ching, whatever man, we gotta roll with it.
Veritas vos liberabit
Image is copyright Electra and www.project812.com
Veritas vos liberabit
Image is copyright Electra and www.project812.com
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Roland Mekaraz
Roland smiled at the curious pair before him. A scarred giant and a petite woman, whom had just felled her massive "friend" like an oak. Never in Dragonskeep had Roland had friends like these.
Careful Roland, the little voice in his head purred, careful where thoughts like that can lead you...
He snapped out of his private reverie and quickly mulled over his options. He would be interested in seeing the armoury; as a soldier one of his passions had always been arms, and the One knows what exotic tools of death Sabata had? The street performers were of no interest to him now, not after what he'd just seen. Now he wanted to find out more about the mysterious and dangerous woman before him, her hulking comrade... and exactly what they wanted him for.
"Zhanna, if you can't just call me Roland we're going to have problems. But to answer your question, I'd very much like to see your shop." He smiled at Zhanna, eyes flitting to Damien. "And on the way to this artists workplace, perhaps you could tell me more about yourself, Damien. I'm sure it'll be fascinating"
Careful Roland, the little voice in his head purred, careful where thoughts like that can lead you...
He snapped out of his private reverie and quickly mulled over his options. He would be interested in seeing the armoury; as a soldier one of his passions had always been arms, and the One knows what exotic tools of death Sabata had? The street performers were of no interest to him now, not after what he'd just seen. Now he wanted to find out more about the mysterious and dangerous woman before him, her hulking comrade... and exactly what they wanted him for.
"Zhanna, if you can't just call me Roland we're going to have problems. But to answer your question, I'd very much like to see your shop." He smiled at Zhanna, eyes flitting to Damien. "And on the way to this artists workplace, perhaps you could tell me more about yourself, Damien. I'm sure it'll be fascinating"
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Ilaria da'Margeir.
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- Joined: Sat Mar 19, 2005 4:56 pm
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Zhanna's eyes sparkled. "Good choice, given that my shop is just over one street. And if you can get Damien to tell you about himself, then I would be quite suprised. He's quite the modest one. However I would have no problem telling you about him once we get through in my shop." Damien started to make a noise of protest, but Zhanna was already running across the street, deftly weaving her way through the crowd. She stopped once she got to the street. Grandly waving her arm, Zhanna proudly said, "My humble shop."
The two story building across from the trio stands out in the crowd of buildings surrounding it, with its flamboyant blue paint and elegantly scripted sign simply stating the name of the shop, Rare Blessing. The inside is a cool haven from the hot streets of the outside. The cleanly swept shop is lined with various potted plants with signs in front of them proclaiming the name of the plants, its various uses, and symptoms that the poison will induce in the intended target. At the front of the shop on the counter is a tank containing curiously spiked fish, whose barbs are deadly to anyone who doesn't know how to handle them. Where she gets these curious fish are unknown, but most people seem to think that she imports them illegally, although no one seems to mind. The shop attracts all sorts of people, from the noble aristocrat who wants to send a "message" to opponents, to the occasional healer who knows that poisons don't always have to be used to kill someone and can have beneficial effects when trying to heal someone.
"Well, Roland, what do you think? Would you like to learn a little about my fair trade before helping us out? I think that it might come in a little handy, but it's up to you." She gave him a bright smile and a wink, waiting for his decision.
The two story building across from the trio stands out in the crowd of buildings surrounding it, with its flamboyant blue paint and elegantly scripted sign simply stating the name of the shop, Rare Blessing. The inside is a cool haven from the hot streets of the outside. The cleanly swept shop is lined with various potted plants with signs in front of them proclaiming the name of the plants, its various uses, and symptoms that the poison will induce in the intended target. At the front of the shop on the counter is a tank containing curiously spiked fish, whose barbs are deadly to anyone who doesn't know how to handle them. Where she gets these curious fish are unknown, but most people seem to think that she imports them illegally, although no one seems to mind. The shop attracts all sorts of people, from the noble aristocrat who wants to send a "message" to opponents, to the occasional healer who knows that poisons don't always have to be used to kill someone and can have beneficial effects when trying to heal someone.
"Well, Roland, what do you think? Would you like to learn a little about my fair trade before helping us out? I think that it might come in a little handy, but it's up to you." She gave him a bright smile and a wink, waiting for his decision.
Now we gotta make the best of it, improvise, adapt to the environment, Darwin, shit happens, I Ching, whatever man, we gotta roll with it.
Veritas vos liberabit
Image is copyright Electra and www.project812.com
Veritas vos liberabit
Image is copyright Electra and www.project812.com
-
Roland Mekaraz
Roland's eyes wandered amazed over the plethora of botanical death before him. How incredible, he thought, that such beautiful and innocent plants could be more deadly than the most lethal swordsman? Then his eyes moved back to Zhanna's smiling, patient face.
But only in the right hands...
Roland's mind raced for a few seconds, assimilating all the information he could, gleaming what he could from his two soon-to-be comrades. He knew that a good soldier- even a mercenary- should never assume his role or his mission before he had all the facts, but he was starting to piece things together in his head. He just hoped he was accurate.
Gharibu had recruited Damien, Zhanna and himself for a mission, even an assassination, that much was obvious. Damien and Roland's involvement was obvious: they were sword hands, muscle, able to "solve problems" that came in Zhanna's way.
But Zhanna herself would strike the blow, Roland thought. She was able, intelligent and, most importantly, skilled in death. And in death of a most devious and effective kind.
Roland had always looked down on poison; they were an assassins weapon, devoid of honor or glory. Even cowardly... but now he could not afford these scruples. Granted Roland could keep some of his code in these harsh, forbidding Sabatan streets, but now present circumstances required him to be... flexible.
"It is always an honor to learn from a master, Zhanna. I would consider it a service to hear some of your... mortal trade." Roland looked round behind him and leaned on a table, making sure there was nothing on there either valuable or dangerous. "If what lies ahead of us is what I expect, I will need all the help I can get. And while you give me it, I would love to hear about of modest comrade Damien..."
But only in the right hands...
Roland's mind raced for a few seconds, assimilating all the information he could, gleaming what he could from his two soon-to-be comrades. He knew that a good soldier- even a mercenary- should never assume his role or his mission before he had all the facts, but he was starting to piece things together in his head. He just hoped he was accurate.
Gharibu had recruited Damien, Zhanna and himself for a mission, even an assassination, that much was obvious. Damien and Roland's involvement was obvious: they were sword hands, muscle, able to "solve problems" that came in Zhanna's way.
But Zhanna herself would strike the blow, Roland thought. She was able, intelligent and, most importantly, skilled in death. And in death of a most devious and effective kind.
Roland had always looked down on poison; they were an assassins weapon, devoid of honor or glory. Even cowardly... but now he could not afford these scruples. Granted Roland could keep some of his code in these harsh, forbidding Sabatan streets, but now present circumstances required him to be... flexible.
"It is always an honor to learn from a master, Zhanna. I would consider it a service to hear some of your... mortal trade." Roland looked round behind him and leaned on a table, making sure there was nothing on there either valuable or dangerous. "If what lies ahead of us is what I expect, I will need all the help I can get. And while you give me it, I would love to hear about of modest comrade Damien..."
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Ilaria da'Margeir.
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- Joined: Sat Mar 19, 2005 4:56 pm
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Zhanna clapped her hands together excitedly. "Wonderful! My first student. Let me just go into the back and get my things. You two stay out here and talk amongst yourselves. I won't be that long." She disappeared into a door at the back of the store, humming a merry tune to herself.
Damien stared at her retreating, giving a small smile and a shake of his head before looking at Roland. "Zhanna's a one of a kind person. She would give the shirt off of her back to help you. But, don't let her appearance fool you. I've seen her kill with an efficent ruthlessness that would suprise even the most battle hardened warrior. It's taken her years to accomplish that feat, however. She's a far cry from the innocent young girl that I once knew." He wandered around the shop, letting his hands trail over some of the plants before continuing. "As for my story, well, Zhanna likes to spin tales about me, giving me a grander appearance than I deserve. So I'll give you the straight facts before she returns and tries to give you some grand story. As you can tell, Zhanna is not from Sabata. She comes from Kislovan, across the ocean. She belongs to one of the oldest noble families at the court that is set up there. And if you know anything about the workings of a court, you know that someone is always scheming against someone else. Well, her father apparently did something to really annoy someone at the court, because they had Zhanna kidnapped. I was ripped from my post in the army to go out and search for her. Obviously I found her, but instead of wanting to return to her life of ease at the court, she decided that it was her personal duty to "watch out" for my poor soul. Well, her father wasn't too fond of the idea, and it was actually her mother who ended up letting her go. We've been together ever since, exploring Tazlure and learning what we can from it's inhabitants. For now we've settled in Sabata, content amongst the scheming nobles and thieves."
It was at that moment that Zhanna chose to return. "Well, it seems like you two are getting along. What have you been talking about?" Without waiting for a reply, she set a box down on the table. "Now, where to begin? First of all, all of these plants here have to be crushed up to release the juices out of the leaves. The juice has to enter the body somehow, whether applied to the end of a weapon or through ingestion. There are other plants in here which are highly poisonous just to touch them, but we'll get to them later. Now, what we have here," she said, picking up a small plant with spiky, thin, silver-green leaves and masses of tiny purple star shaped flowers," is Nanthistle. It's a native plant of Terra Incognita, one of the only plants that has the capability to grow in the desert. It's not one that is easily come by." Her eyes hardened for a moment, lost in a distant memory, before continuing. "The leaves are of primary importance, since they contain the most poison. Once the leaves are crushed, the juice can be placed onto a weapon or into the intended victim's food. The juice is odorless, but tastes mildly bitter, so it's best used as a coating on a weapon. It generally takes one or two marks for the poison to act, and when it does, the victim will break out into a highly itchy rash before falling over dead. This plant, in contrast, is Burning Ivy, for good reason." She pulled out a long crimson vine with diamond shaped leaves and small yellow berries. "This plant comes to us from Kislovan, my homeland. The berries are highly poisonous. When crushed and placed into food, it will give off a slightly spicy smell, so it's best to be placed in dishes that are spicy, obviously. Once consumed, the poison acts quickly, within a few flickers. It causes a highly painful burning sensation in the throat and limbs. Once it hits the stomach, painful cramps ensue, with death following not long after. If the body is opened, anyone will plainly see that the organs will be corroded by the poison" Zhanna shrugged. "Not my cup of tea, but if you want to send a message to someone, I suppose it's useful." She rummaged around in the box for a bit, clearly searching for something. "Aha! Now this, this is my favorite. This is Velam." Zhanna pulled out a plant with broad, flat, deep green leaves and large purple bell shaped flowers. "This plant is absolutely crucial if you want to get the job done efficiently. The flowers release a juice that is tasteless and odorless. When used, the poison acts within a few marks, and after those few marks, the person simply falls over dead. No marks, no corruption, no burning, nothing! However-"
Zhanna was cut short by the door banging open and a wild eyed red haired men running into the shop. "It's happened! The moment we've been waiting for. He's screwed up big time, and now we can take advantage of it! Meeting in 10 burns! Oh, and I need some of that stuff you gave me last week for a....project. Just put it on my bill and bring it to the meeting if you can." With that, the man ran back out of the door, not even bothering to acknowledge Damien or Roland. Zhanna smiled wickedly at Roland and said, "Well, Roland, here's your chance to enter into a war. If you care to join, just follow me." With that, Damien and Zhanna left the shop and waited outside to see if Roland would join.
Damien stared at her retreating, giving a small smile and a shake of his head before looking at Roland. "Zhanna's a one of a kind person. She would give the shirt off of her back to help you. But, don't let her appearance fool you. I've seen her kill with an efficent ruthlessness that would suprise even the most battle hardened warrior. It's taken her years to accomplish that feat, however. She's a far cry from the innocent young girl that I once knew." He wandered around the shop, letting his hands trail over some of the plants before continuing. "As for my story, well, Zhanna likes to spin tales about me, giving me a grander appearance than I deserve. So I'll give you the straight facts before she returns and tries to give you some grand story. As you can tell, Zhanna is not from Sabata. She comes from Kislovan, across the ocean. She belongs to one of the oldest noble families at the court that is set up there. And if you know anything about the workings of a court, you know that someone is always scheming against someone else. Well, her father apparently did something to really annoy someone at the court, because they had Zhanna kidnapped. I was ripped from my post in the army to go out and search for her. Obviously I found her, but instead of wanting to return to her life of ease at the court, she decided that it was her personal duty to "watch out" for my poor soul. Well, her father wasn't too fond of the idea, and it was actually her mother who ended up letting her go. We've been together ever since, exploring Tazlure and learning what we can from it's inhabitants. For now we've settled in Sabata, content amongst the scheming nobles and thieves."
It was at that moment that Zhanna chose to return. "Well, it seems like you two are getting along. What have you been talking about?" Without waiting for a reply, she set a box down on the table. "Now, where to begin? First of all, all of these plants here have to be crushed up to release the juices out of the leaves. The juice has to enter the body somehow, whether applied to the end of a weapon or through ingestion. There are other plants in here which are highly poisonous just to touch them, but we'll get to them later. Now, what we have here," she said, picking up a small plant with spiky, thin, silver-green leaves and masses of tiny purple star shaped flowers," is Nanthistle. It's a native plant of Terra Incognita, one of the only plants that has the capability to grow in the desert. It's not one that is easily come by." Her eyes hardened for a moment, lost in a distant memory, before continuing. "The leaves are of primary importance, since they contain the most poison. Once the leaves are crushed, the juice can be placed onto a weapon or into the intended victim's food. The juice is odorless, but tastes mildly bitter, so it's best used as a coating on a weapon. It generally takes one or two marks for the poison to act, and when it does, the victim will break out into a highly itchy rash before falling over dead. This plant, in contrast, is Burning Ivy, for good reason." She pulled out a long crimson vine with diamond shaped leaves and small yellow berries. "This plant comes to us from Kislovan, my homeland. The berries are highly poisonous. When crushed and placed into food, it will give off a slightly spicy smell, so it's best to be placed in dishes that are spicy, obviously. Once consumed, the poison acts quickly, within a few flickers. It causes a highly painful burning sensation in the throat and limbs. Once it hits the stomach, painful cramps ensue, with death following not long after. If the body is opened, anyone will plainly see that the organs will be corroded by the poison" Zhanna shrugged. "Not my cup of tea, but if you want to send a message to someone, I suppose it's useful." She rummaged around in the box for a bit, clearly searching for something. "Aha! Now this, this is my favorite. This is Velam." Zhanna pulled out a plant with broad, flat, deep green leaves and large purple bell shaped flowers. "This plant is absolutely crucial if you want to get the job done efficiently. The flowers release a juice that is tasteless and odorless. When used, the poison acts within a few marks, and after those few marks, the person simply falls over dead. No marks, no corruption, no burning, nothing! However-"
Zhanna was cut short by the door banging open and a wild eyed red haired men running into the shop. "It's happened! The moment we've been waiting for. He's screwed up big time, and now we can take advantage of it! Meeting in 10 burns! Oh, and I need some of that stuff you gave me last week for a....project. Just put it on my bill and bring it to the meeting if you can." With that, the man ran back out of the door, not even bothering to acknowledge Damien or Roland. Zhanna smiled wickedly at Roland and said, "Well, Roland, here's your chance to enter into a war. If you care to join, just follow me." With that, Damien and Zhanna left the shop and waited outside to see if Roland would join.
Now we gotta make the best of it, improvise, adapt to the environment, Darwin, shit happens, I Ching, whatever man, we gotta roll with it.
Veritas vos liberabit
Image is copyright Electra and www.project812.com
Veritas vos liberabit
Image is copyright Electra and www.project812.com
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Roland Mekaraz
Roland was so mesmerized by Zhanna's descriptions of her lethally beautiful thanks that the crash of the door opening made him jolt. He grabbed his sword but held himself back, then tried to hide how touchy he'd been.
He listened to the frantic garble from the man and watched wordless as he scurried faster out the door. But what he'd said...
Who is he? Who can it be? Harkhebi... even Ramessu himself?
Roland silenced the urging voices in his mind and turned to Zhanna, only to see her disappear out the door with her hulking brother-in-arms.
Her words drifted back to him even as she vanished. A war...
Roland grasped his sword handle and subconsciously checked his knives. Meeting in ten burns, then the mission. Then the action.
What more could a man like Roland want more than to enter a war?
He walked briskly to the door and stepped into the hot Sabatan air. He closed the dor behind him and started catching up to Zhanna and Damien, face set in stone and determined... expectant.
He listened to the frantic garble from the man and watched wordless as he scurried faster out the door. But what he'd said...
Who is he? Who can it be? Harkhebi... even Ramessu himself?
Roland silenced the urging voices in his mind and turned to Zhanna, only to see her disappear out the door with her hulking brother-in-arms.
Well, Roland, here's your chance to enter into a war."
Her words drifted back to him even as she vanished. A war...
Roland grasped his sword handle and subconsciously checked his knives. Meeting in ten burns, then the mission. Then the action.
What more could a man like Roland want more than to enter a war?
He walked briskly to the door and stepped into the hot Sabatan air. He closed the dor behind him and started catching up to Zhanna and Damien, face set in stone and determined... expectant.
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Ilaria da'Margeir.
- Special Branch
- Posts: 300
- Joined: Sat Mar 19, 2005 4:56 pm
- Location: Dort
- Contact:
OOC: Well, a bit of a wrench got thrown into my nefarious plans for you 
. You can just sum up what you did over the next two days and then post here. You can go buy some armor, watch street performers, or even sleep if you want to. I'll let you have a little bit of freedom here 
IC: Zhanna nodded, as if she expected no other choice. The pair silently walked alongside Roland, content to leave him in his own thoughts. Upon arrival at the Crying Dragon, Gharibu pointed at Roland. "They aren't ready for him yet. He can wait out here with Darien." Zhanna shrugged in apology at the pair and entered the back room. A mark later she emerged, eyes shining. "We've got some interesting times ahead of us, boys. I have to leave for two days, so you two can go off and do whatever you want. Meet me back here on the 26th." With that, she left. Darien shrugged at Roland. "I don't know about you, but I'm going to catch up on my sleep. There are some long days ahead of us." And with that, Darien also left, leaving Roland free to explore the city.
. You can just sum up what you did over the next two days and then post here. You can go buy some armor, watch street performers, or even sleep if you want to. I'll let you have a little bit of freedom here
IC: Zhanna nodded, as if she expected no other choice. The pair silently walked alongside Roland, content to leave him in his own thoughts. Upon arrival at the Crying Dragon, Gharibu pointed at Roland. "They aren't ready for him yet. He can wait out here with Darien." Zhanna shrugged in apology at the pair and entered the back room. A mark later she emerged, eyes shining. "We've got some interesting times ahead of us, boys. I have to leave for two days, so you two can go off and do whatever you want. Meet me back here on the 26th." With that, she left. Darien shrugged at Roland. "I don't know about you, but I'm going to catch up on my sleep. There are some long days ahead of us." And with that, Darien also left, leaving Roland free to explore the city.
Now we gotta make the best of it, improvise, adapt to the environment, Darwin, shit happens, I Ching, whatever man, we gotta roll with it.
Veritas vos liberabit
Image is copyright Electra and www.project812.com
Veritas vos liberabit
Image is copyright Electra and www.project812.com
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Roland Mekaraz
The first Morningtide heat of the day crept into Roland's room at the Crying Dragon, and as the rays slowly rising son gently kissed his eyelids, they slowly opened, and he smiled.
The 26th. Finally.
Well, Roland conceded as he climbed out of bed, they last two day's hadn't been that trying, even boring. But the expectancy of waiting for whatever Zhanna had to throw at him had Roland tingling and thinking and wondering since she'd left him and Damien outside the Dragon a couple of days ago.
He strolled over to the table and chair in the corner where his clothes were and arms were. That and his new armour.
Roland picked up the weighty double-chain mail armour by the lapels and held it up to the light, casting an appraising eye over it. He'd seen it on a market stall just a couple of streets from the Dragon. He'd been wandering aimlessly round as usual until he'd seen it.
Every since he was a boy he'd trained in chain mail. In Dragonskeep all recruits and all enlisted men had to have at least a chain mail suit of armour. It was relatively light, very flexible and- when made by one who knew his craft- as tough as steel.
He placed it down onto the back again and frowned a touch. He just hoped it hadn't been a waste of 6 Circulets...
The other new item was standing by his bed, ready for action as always. It was a normal sized axe, with a wickedly-curved blade tapered to a razors edge. From the same store, actually, and a bargain (apparently) at 10 Lance.
Roland thought silently as he pulled his clothes on, buttoned his tunic and started to put on his new double-mail. Would they be worth it? Would these new additions, along with his current arsenal, be enough? Would what Zhanna had to offer even befit a man of Roland's abilities, or equipment?
Roland finished with his armour and drew himself up to fix on his weapons. His mind was oddly enough back in the spotless barracks at Dragonskeep, preparing for the march. It came so naturally to him...
First the sword in sheath at his belt, left hand side. Dagger on the right in its sheath, and his knife tucked down his left boot. He looped his quiver over his shoulder and fastened it, the bow following suit. And his axe he fastened carefully on his left, as he'd practiced yesterday with the very solicitous stall owner. Just under the dagger, just tight enough not to move too much when he ran, but easily snatched up from his side when necessary.
Roland threw on his green cape and stood tall in his sparse, warming, sandstone room, as if waiting for the order to dismiss. For a few precious seconds he lingered on the aimless days before, building up to this day of discovery. Days wandering, nights through a haze of White Mist of whatever else was cheaply available... strange thoughts and visions known and pertinent only to himself...
OOC: Hey Il! Happy New Year and et cetera, love! Glad to know you're back and posting, looks to be hotting up in this story...
Anywho, in the meantime can you help me sell those two? I don't think Roland will need them anymore. Thanks hun! 
Roland smiled at the emptiness of his room, leaving his shield and kit bag under his bed as he left the room, locking it behind him. he walked down the stair to await news from his beautiful new employer, remembering to talk to someone about selling that shield and his old armour...
The 26th. Finally.
Well, Roland conceded as he climbed out of bed, they last two day's hadn't been that trying, even boring. But the expectancy of waiting for whatever Zhanna had to throw at him had Roland tingling and thinking and wondering since she'd left him and Damien outside the Dragon a couple of days ago.
He strolled over to the table and chair in the corner where his clothes were and arms were. That and his new armour.
Roland picked up the weighty double-chain mail armour by the lapels and held it up to the light, casting an appraising eye over it. He'd seen it on a market stall just a couple of streets from the Dragon. He'd been wandering aimlessly round as usual until he'd seen it.
Every since he was a boy he'd trained in chain mail. In Dragonskeep all recruits and all enlisted men had to have at least a chain mail suit of armour. It was relatively light, very flexible and- when made by one who knew his craft- as tough as steel.
He placed it down onto the back again and frowned a touch. He just hoped it hadn't been a waste of 6 Circulets...
The other new item was standing by his bed, ready for action as always. It was a normal sized axe, with a wickedly-curved blade tapered to a razors edge. From the same store, actually, and a bargain (apparently) at 10 Lance.
Roland thought silently as he pulled his clothes on, buttoned his tunic and started to put on his new double-mail. Would they be worth it? Would these new additions, along with his current arsenal, be enough? Would what Zhanna had to offer even befit a man of Roland's abilities, or equipment?
Roland finished with his armour and drew himself up to fix on his weapons. His mind was oddly enough back in the spotless barracks at Dragonskeep, preparing for the march. It came so naturally to him...
First the sword in sheath at his belt, left hand side. Dagger on the right in its sheath, and his knife tucked down his left boot. He looped his quiver over his shoulder and fastened it, the bow following suit. And his axe he fastened carefully on his left, as he'd practiced yesterday with the very solicitous stall owner. Just under the dagger, just tight enough not to move too much when he ran, but easily snatched up from his side when necessary.
Roland threw on his green cape and stood tall in his sparse, warming, sandstone room, as if waiting for the order to dismiss. For a few precious seconds he lingered on the aimless days before, building up to this day of discovery. Days wandering, nights through a haze of White Mist of whatever else was cheaply available... strange thoughts and visions known and pertinent only to himself...
OOC: Hey Il! Happy New Year and et cetera, love! Glad to know you're back and posting, looks to be hotting up in this story...
Anywho, in the meantime can you help me sell those two? I don't think Roland will need them anymore. Thanks hun!
Roland smiled at the emptiness of his room, leaving his shield and kit bag under his bed as he left the room, locking it behind him. he walked down the stair to await news from his beautiful new employer, remembering to talk to someone about selling that shield and his old armour...