"In this world, is the destiny of mankind controlled by some transcendental entity or law...? Is it like the hand of God hovering above? At least it is true that man has no control, even over his own will."
Your destiny and what awaits on the path ahead is all but a mystery to you, and yet your struggle to survive as you pursue your individual and personal goals provides enough drive to keep you grounded, paving way for whatever lies ahead.
Not too long ago, you all had that dream. The one with The Hawk of Light. It was a dream both vivid and surreal, though a dream all the same. From darkness, feathers fell, drifting through the darkness as the most beautiful beacons of light you could imagine. You felt no sense of time nor presence, not even of your own being. As the feathers fell, so did the bright light from above, clearing the darkness and making way for the Hawk of Light.
Gracefully gliding above was what could only be described as a pure white, yet almost featureless Eagle, soaring through the blackened void of nothingness. Was this a metaphor for life itself? To create something out of nothing is surely but a miracle. If the darkness represented the evil of man, then surely the white Hawk of Light represented the good of man and all that is Holy?
It was but a dream and that much is true, but was it just a dream or a foreboding for what's to come, serving a greater purpose beyond even human comprehension?
Not much is known about the true purpose of the dream, though you need not go far to hear others speaking of it. Many would keep to themselves, thinking it to be nothing more than superstitious nonsense, but with the recent Witch Trials carried out by The Holy See, others suspected foul play in the form of a curse, placed upon humanity by Witches as they left were forcibly pushed from this world into their transition to the next. Whether you talk about it or not, you find it curious that so many others shared their experience of the very dream you witnessed and perhaps you seek meaning behind it all, using it as yet another reason to travel, though maybe you don't care at all.
The One Hundred Year War had ended and though life itself has felt more peaceful than ever, since the night you had that dream, something has changed in the world around you, though you can't quite place your finger on it. Is it the air that's changed? How did the huge tree of life come to be, currently towering over what used to be the city of Windham? Since that dream it's as though the world itself has gone through some kind of transformation and through its beauty lay also the fear of the unknown, for what meaning could rest behind such events.
Though rumours have spread, all but one of you somehow avoided crossing paths with the Eastern invading Kushan and have heard little word of Windham's troubles, other than the fact Windham is no more. The very capital of Midland has fallen and seemingly not by the hand of the Kushan Empire, but a more formidable foe. You may find out who or what that is given time, but for now you are you. You have your goals and the path you walk is yours and yours alone.
Two years have passed since the ordeal you faced back at your homestead and through travelling, you find yourself in the southern point of Midland, bordering the western side of the map. Night is near and so you follow the path you're on looking for somewhere to stay the night. As the sun sets beyond the horizon with each passing moment, you notice a two floored building jutting out from the woodland surrounding you. It's not too far ahead and as you approach, written on the swingboard are the words "Adelaide's Inn". Ignoring the stables to the side, you make your way in and find the place to be fairly spacious, with a good twelve or so tables on the ground floor. Currently there are only five tables free - One large round table in the centre, two in the back, one two-seater to the left and a corner booth by the window to the lower right corner. Several of the people look at you as you enter, but most ignore you, carrying on with their conversations. The place seems pleasant and popular enough and the Bartender looks at you with a welcoming smile as she serves one of the other men at the bar, central to the building.
Two years later and still in search of a place to call home, you find yourself spending most of your evening in an establishment known only as "Adelaide's Inn". It's a fairly busy place, has two floors and twelve tables on the ground floor. Sitting at the bar, the bartender appears pleasant enough and seemingly runs the place alone. Now approaching night, she serves your favourite drink and then pauses as the front door swings open, giving off a welcoming smile above your head and towards the direction of the door.
Having been travelling for a year and a half since leaving Misty Valley, your curious nature has taken you around the lower points of midland. Being more connected to the Astral Realm than any human you know, you've grown to understand that even for one such as yourself, it's not always safe to travel out in the open at night and find yourself looking down at a path below. Night has already fallen, but there's one establishment with many lights shining through the windows from within. Above the door it says "Adelaide's Inn". You fly down and peer through the window, with nothing but the violet glow of your very own fairy dust emanating light around you.
With your memories of Edel taking their toll, you've been marching for a whole day in search of a place to rest. Having survived the ordeal back at St.Albion you've been on the road for about six months, confused and unsure where to go, with nobody to take your frustrations out on. In that time you've seen your share of spirits and odd entities, notably most active in the surrounding areas of your prior prison, St.Albion and in the direction of Windham. It unnerves you, but you've learned to act mostly oblivious to such sights, only encountering spirits when they've realised you can actually see them.
Thankfully, your hand has been a great aid in keeping your attention focused primarily on yourself. You've had more trouble with bandits and passers by who've caught glimpses of your appearance, but still feel uneasy travelling at night, even if you don't feel truly alone with the link you still share with your deceased wife Edel. Up ahead you can make out an establishment to the side of the path you currently travel. Upon closer inspection a swingboard sign above the door reads "Adelaide's Inn". To the right of the door is a tiny creature with a violet glow emanating from its body. Its skin is dark, but not black, more a pale white that looks to be permanently in shadow. Its wings, though small, appear leathery. It doesn't seem to be paying attention to you however as it peers through the Inn window, doused in light from within, seemingly entranced much like how a moth is attracted to light.
Chased through the surrounding woodlands and under dark skies by racist and despicably violent Mercenaries for the past hour or so, you find yourself facing south to a path with an establishment to the right of it. You can see the swingboard sign above and through your grasp of the Midland language read it as "Adelaide's Inn". You're far enough away to remain hidden under nightfall, but ahead you can make out a shadowed humanoid figure making his way to the front door of the Inn. Unsure of how far behind you the Mercenaries are, you feel a lot of pressure to get to somewhere safe and have travelled in midland long enough to know it's not safe to travel alone, especially not at night.
Jura accepts the drink of warm mead, acknowledging the woman as he slides payment over. His ears perk up, hearing someone come in as the cold outside air comes rushing in through the door as he takes a drink of the warm cup. Ignoring the event he gets up, moving to a table closer to the fire, looking over the new arrival with disinterest as he takes a seat facing the door.
With a casual ease he unslings his greatsword and leans it against the wall within hands reach, the message clear.
Don't make trouble, or else.
A little tired and cold I step inside the Inn, behind me there is a brief movement but is quickly gone. I see a man with a large sword move away from the bar and towards the fire, I see everyone staring at me and then get back to their own conversations. I relax a little bit and walk up to the bar, "Could I have a bottle of wine and a hot meal please madam?"
I place the coins on the bar and once my orders have been served I head to the booth by the window and unsling my finely carved bow and quiver, placing them at my side, then sit down. Before even drinking or eating anything I spend a few minutes looking up at the sky outside, but seem satisfied and start to drink the wine; which is pleasantly warmed up, and eat my food slowly.
The elf watches as the humans did what they always seem to do in these places. Drink and talk. So much going on. But yes. Shelter is shelter. And the fact that it seems that most are oblivious to her, she patiently waits for the door to open again before she zips inside. Glad to be out of the darkness that was outside. No. Not because she was scared. The darkness outside was very welcoming to a degree. But it was more about what she had to share the darkness with, that she avoided. There were things out there that could make her a quick snack if they so wished.
So she slowly glided over the heads of those insude. She made her way to the barkeep and made herself comfortable on the top shelf. Swinging her legs as she sat down, continuing to watch the coming and goings of those in the inn. Maybe she could get a bit of fun out of this at least
A single sloshing vial of an oily liquid clutched in her left hand close to her heart, Izsha carefully approaches the building. She waits a moment in the cover of night for the person ahead of her to enter before she stumbles forward and steps toward the door. She turns once more around her axis, observing the surrounding darkness and taking the last step backward toward the entrance, before she can feel the doorframe in her back. Breathing deeply, she slides her hand to the bag at her side and pushes the vial back into a small compartment on the inside, before pushing backwards through the door, opening it just far enough to fit through and closing it immediately behind her.
She turns to face the room and take in the warmly lit surroundings for but a moment, before pulling her veil in and making her way along the walls and side tables, looking for a dimly lit place to quietly sit down.
As careful as Izsha tried to be, it would appear that this part of the land still very much shunned and even hated the Kushan, for the moment she entered the room, everyone went silent. People began nudging one another so that those with their backs turned, instead turned to face her and no matter how much she tried to keep a low profile, her clothing was an instant giveaway.
Whispers could be heard questioning what she was or where she came from with such a wild sense of style, until one of three seemingly off-duty Soldiers, sitting two tables to the right of the Noble, spoke up:
She's one of them, she is. She's what they call a Kushan!
The other two Soldiers began to draw their Longswords as they stood up behind their apparent leader while those in the Inn who weren't too drunk remained silent, except where once just curious, many now expressed a mixture of fear and anger towards the Kushan woman, some even throwing their food at her, jeering and encouraging the Soldiers to harass her.
Feeling empowered, the Captain made his way towards a table of Gamblers and leaned over them, much to their displeasure and pointed his sword directly at Izsha's throat; Well what do we have here, then? An enemy of our very nation or just a dog of the Kushan empire?
Not good not good not good. She didnt want have to leave because of bloodshed... she grins. She had an idea.
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Izsha freezes as the blade is pointed at her throat, trying her best to ignore the food hitting her. Her voice quivering with a mixture of fear and exhaustion: "मत करो!" she starts "Please! I am not your enemy..." her speech, despite her obvious accent, is clear. The right hand held up between her and the soldier, the left still rests on her bag, two fingers digging their way under the hood: "I am no warrior, just... I... I just need...", she removes her left hand from the bag and also lifts it in front of her for the man to see it is empty. Her breath now audibly quivering she does not seem to be able to finish her answer.
Displaying an obnoxious amount of cockiness, the Captain removes the sword from your throat as he walks around in circles mocking you, waving his hands in the air, still loosely holding his sword.
Not our enemy she says......NOT OUR ENEMY!?
His laughter turned into anger as he reared his sword back, marching towards you with nothing but hatred.
Erin giggles and then, using one of her more common spells, she tugs at the restraints trying to embarras the violent one. Not on her watch. Laughs were sometines much more entertaining than threats
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The lively patrons once again cheered him on, over and over again, but then you noticed their expressions change. From anger in but a moment of time, there was anger no more, only laughter that got louder and louder.
Looking down for fear of what might happen next, you noticed the Captain's trousers drop.
Noticing himself, he dropped his sword and desperately tried to pull his trousers back up, now bright red in the face, tripping over and stumbling into the Gamblers table.
The closest two Gamblers, unhappy with this, stood up and shoved him.
Your duty in the army ended when Windham fell. You couldn't protect us then and you can't protect us now! Bugger off. You're messing with our game. said the larger of the two.
That was not suppose to happen... why does this always happen when she tried to have fun. Oh well. Lets see.... "Hmmmmm" she looks around
"Best let this play out before i start even more of a mess..." she muses and leans forward to watch more closely without getting in the way
Baffled by the turn of events izsha takes a step back she gathers herself as good as she can, wiping some gruel off her face, and gives the large man a hasty nod in appreciation. She hurries toward one of the tables off to the side in hopes of getting out of the center of attention and falls into the seat. A moment later she realizes the table is not vacant, a man with a large sword at his side sitting on the chair across.
Her eyes fix on the great blade, and stories echo in her mind. Soldiers telling of a swordsman brandishing a gigantic sword slaughtering soldiers and even pishaca by the dozens. Though in these tall tales this man's sword was even greater than the one before her, a truly inhuman weapon; surely the soldiers embellished their tales.
Her gaze wanders over to the man sitting in front of her, could this be the man the stories told of? Or is he perhaps just one of many men who became one larger than life person in the minds of their enemies?
Rodrick approached the inn. Night was drawing close, with it the cold. He shoulders his pack though its weight is little more than surrogate for the burden he felt in his heart. He didn't pay any attention to the fey creature hanging by the place. He hardly cared. Only when he was close enough to hear the angry shouting and angry voices from within did he have a thought cross his mind, and it was only to draw the covers on his face further.
He slams the door open. Loud enough to draw attention. He takes in the room, standing in the doorway at his full height. Watching, waiting, seeing if anyone wanted to test a strangers mood.
His hand twitches expectantly.
Look out, trouble... said a man on a table to the left, his friend peering over his shoulder and slinking down further into his seat as Rodrick peered around the room.
The Inn went silent.
Another voice could be heard further back from a table closer to the bar this time.
It's just one after the other today, the male voice softly muttered.
Peering around the room, Rodrick caught sight of a man holding his trousers as he hurriedly scrambled up the stairs, presumably to rest for the night. Now back behind the bar and having missed the previous ordeal working from the kitchen, the Bartender looked up at this stranger lurking in the doorway.
Hungry? she asked. Find yourself a seat and I'll be right over.
Satisfied with the situation, Rodrick finds himself a seat at one of the free tables and sets his belongings down, alongside a couple of pieces of silver in the hopes the bartender would simply bring him a meal and spare him the conversation. Until then he slumps in his seat and watches the fire.
"So moody...." she huffed. She was hoping for more fun and games. But these humans hardly knew how to play. Their offspring. They could play. But somewhere along the road they forgot how to do it. She pouts and crosses her arms. There had to be something more interesting to do at this time. She looks over those gathered. Everyone was just so riled up. Hmmm. Maybe the gamblers were more fun. As long as they enjoyed themselves. She flies over and sits on their table. Cross legged and observed their game
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Fairly good at reading people, the Bartender took note of Rodrick's coins and attitude, returning several minutes later with some freshly cooked Cottage Pie and veg, accompanied by a tankard of standard Ale, catering to most tastes.
On the Gamblers table, one of the more drunk players commented I could have sw-sw-swoooorn....my cards m-m-moved on thaaar own. Have weee *hic* got a cheeeat-er-rr heeeeere?
She giggles and shifts her position. And when a new hand was dealt, no money yet. She used mage hand once again and tipped each hand for the others to see. In turn. So as not to leave anyone out. Maybe even scatter some of the cards if they were not held too tight
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What the hell IS THIIIIIIS!? the larger man shouted, slamming his hand down hard on the table. The drunk who only moments ago accused someone of cheating then dropped his whole hand, fell asleep, head rolled back and fell off the table in a dribbling mess on the floor.
The other Gambler who stood up initially with the big guy to shove the Captain, simply burst out laughing, while the last one initially closest to Izsha looked closely at the other players with raised eyebrows, then raised his voice a little, just enough to be heard by the Bartender.
Hey, Ad. Is this place haunted or something?
Cleaning the bar of sloshed drinks with her wet cloth, the Bartender chuckled to herself; Not that I know of.
She was rolling on the table laughing, this was getting better by the second, and they just unwittingly made themselves targets of a 'haunt'
With this in mind she lifted a single coin, and decided to chase the one who gave her the idea, around with said coin
Seeing a coin float up in front of his face, the superstitious Gambler sighed and hung his head back, momentarily staring at the ceiling.
That's me done. My eyes must be playing tricks on me.
The others weren't paying much attention. The big guy was angry and deep in thought, while the joker of the table was busy looking around the room.
Well, the game's ruined so I'm going to get some rest for the night.
I'll see you losers in the morning.
With that, he patted the joker on the back, got up and nodded at the big guy as he walked past, making his way up the left stairwell.
She looked around. Not a single reaction. Nothing from the gamblers. She wont mess with drunkards again, they don't seem to be any fun at all. She sighs and takes her seat at the top of the bar, looking around again
I keep on glacing out of the windows every few minutes and even noticed a woman staggering towards the door. Once she is inside I have a brief glance at her before turning back tomy meal. Just as things are getting noisy and rowdy with the soldier and woman I begin to stand, but at that precise moment in time the soldiers trousers fall down to his ankles!
Hoping that situation will now die down a bit, I lower myself back into my seat and take another sip of my drink. I don't pay much attention to the drunks, where the woman runs off to sit or even of the man who entered loudly. For I am once again looking outside, into the night sky.
Serves him right, Jura thinks, his muscles relaxing as he settles back into his chair having been on the verge of intervening. As the commotion dies down as quickly as it starts and the embarrassed man makes his way upstairs he scowls into his mug. The woman should watch herself, men like him don't tend to stop after being shamed.
He looks up from his thoughts, seeing the foreigner looking at him strangely. Wonder what she wants. He thinks as he gently beckons her over.
The kushan woman still casts nervous glances all over the tavern. When she realizes the man sitting across is looking at her, her strangely cold blue eyes lower: "I... I did not mean to intrude... मुझे माफ़ करदो।, forgive me." she nervously says and motions to stand back up to look for another table.
As the Gambler headed towards the stairs, the Bartender laid down her cloth, looked over towards Izsha and made her way out back, moments later returning with a tray in hand as she made her way over to Izsha and Jura's table.
I'm sorry about him she said, referring to the Captain. He's been bitter since we lost the war. He lost his Commanding Officer to a Kushan invader and when our King passed and Kingdom fell, he was left without work and a meaningless rank.
Placing the food on the table, Adelaide smiled.
That's Cottage Pie with Carrots and Broccoli. The drink is Cider made from the best apples that grow out back. It's on me.
Picking the tray back up, she turned around and looked to as many patrons possible before clearing her throat.
The war between us and the Kushan invaders has ended. Members of their nation are likely stranded here in Midland and we no longer have reason to fight. Both sides have suffered casualties and my Inn is a place of rest. Anyone is welcome here and if you don't like it, you know where the door is. She momentarily gestures towards the door.
The only person causing trouble was the Captain and he's no longer present, so leave the Kushan be and get back to drinking.
A couple of unfamiliar faces grunted and left, while several of the suspected regulars enthusiastically cheered Yes, Mam!.
That's Adelaide for ya, whispered another not far out of earshot.
The Inn went back to its lively self.
Rodrick ignores the speech from the bartender. He had no love lost for Kushans. Truth be told he'd run more through than shook hands with, and that was the way he liked it. But he doesn't have him to care either way in this particular instance. Instead he turns to his meal, feeling something akin to gratitude. He starts to peel away his covering and considers that, while he could not watch the fire to distract himself, at least its light could not find him and his wretched features. Still, he does not risk any more exposure than necessary and instead begins his meal in earnest.
"You're not intruding, what do you want?" Jura asks bluntly, his voice not uninviting but carrying a tone of impatience.
He looks at the foreigner with the mysterious eyes, actually noticing them for the first time. Odd, wonder if that's how her people naturally look? He thinks, taking in how scared she looks.
"You're along way from home, what's a young woman like you doing out here alone. You should count yourself lucky to have wandered into the most tolerant bar in the land."
"Thank you, this is too kind." Izsha says to the bartender.
"I... I only need a quiet corner, I didn't realize this table was already taken." she says her eyes fixed on the meal before her.
"I've been left behind in this land when the Kushan army fell apart. They brought me here as a healer for their soldiers." she explains, she seems to calm a bit now, "What I did for the Kushan soldiers in the war I do for the people of Midland now. Many will not trust me, but I can't blame them..."
"Hmmmm. War stuff. That could be an interesting conversation" she muses to herself as she flutters over and sits at the table the two were occupying. Someone left behind from the war, she could have quite a few stories to tell
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As the Bartender gives her speech and looks over the room, I give a small nod. Once I have finished eating I take out a small brass coin and begin to roll it over my fingers ... or try to. After the third finger it keeps on slipping from my grip and I have to catch it and try again.
"Noble," Jura replies pointing at the food. "Eat before it get's cold, feel free to stay I don't mind."
A man of few words Jura leans back into his chair and enjoys the heat on his back, giving the woman some time to eat before he asks any more questions. She seems sincere, a rare thing to find in this world. It's a miracle she's lasted this long.
With the rowdy ones now off the scene, it hits about 9.30pm when suddenly the front door swings open once more.
The draft, now much colder than before, rushes in, sending a chill down the spines of those closest as six relatively loud men make their way into Adelaide's place.
There's an auburn haired one with the lower back and sides of his head shaved apart from a small bun tied at the top back of his head. Next to him and walking backwards along side him, there's a slightly shorter man with blonde hair tied into a mid ponytail, with sideburns and a loosely parted fringe. In the middle and facing forwards is an older looking guy, slightly tanned with black hair, stubble and a roman nose. His appearance seems a lot more serious than the first two. Then, behind them are three other men of varying height, with the back one (around 6'1, shoulder length black wavey hair with a thin moustache and hair below his bottom lip) closing the door behind him.
Though a little loud, there was nothing too alarming about them, with the back three seeming more quiet and perhaps tired.
At such a quick glance, it was hard to make out what their roles were, but the black haired guy who closed the door had a Quiver full of arrows and a Bow across his back, while the older man at the front had a nasty looking flail sheathed in his belt.
It couldn't be ignored that they were all in full Midland Soldier attire - Armed, Armoured and Helmet-less, as those who hadn't already removed their helmets were in the process of doing so.
Looking around, conveniently the front centred table, enough to sit six, was still free. Noticing this, the men made their way around the table and in doing so, the blonde one accidentally bumped into the corner of the two-seater, where Jura, Erin and Izsha currently sat.
My apologies! he instantly said, before realising the woman was that of Kushan origin. He didn't say much, but expressed a look of concern as he made his way around the table, eyes firmly fixed on her.
The rest of the men sat themselves down, with the older one sitting with his back towards the bar. The man with the auburn bun then raised his hand and without giving eye contact, beckoned Adelaide over. Six of your finest drinks, if you'd be so kind. The older man seemed a little out of it and glared at the table, while the other four looked at the redhead in shock.
Rich, what's come over you all of a sudden? You never buy the first round. said the blonde guy, rocking back in his chair and kicking his feet up on the table.
Eh, I've gotta show I care every so often. You should quit complaining and get ya damn feet off the table, Brenner.
Brenner shrugged and laughed before the older guy shoved his feet back down.
Glaring back over to Izsha, Brenner removed a sharp knife from his pocket and threw it up into the air several times before pulling an apple from his left pocket, then proceeding to peel and eat it, averting his gaze back towards the older Soldier once more.
What's up with you today anyway? asked Brenner as Adelaide returned with 6 tankards of Perry. The men seemed polite enough, all thanking Adelaide bar the older one.
What isn't up? I commanded over one thousand men in the 100 year war and now I'm stuck with you guys...
Richard shook his head. Don't start, Clyde, he said looking towards the older man, roughly in his late thirties.
Brenner took a sip from his drink and said Yeah, look we're here now. Let's just enjoy the night while we can. No hard feelings, eh.
Don't tell me what to do! exclaimed Clyde.
The dark haired guy at the back then spoke up as he looked towards Clyde. You're just pissed that Theresia's sent you out on patrol out here and away from your family.
Clyde responded with nothing but a cold, blank expression.
Well, you are a Soldier afterall. Sometimes duty takes you away from home. Away from your loved ones. You should know that by now. Brenner said, once again airing his unwanted opinion.
Richard agreed. Yea, Lee's right. You should at least be used to it by now, considering how long you served the King.
One of the younger looking guys at the back then muttered under his breath a passing comment; I haven't seen my family in over a year. I was sent away to make a name for myself and don't even know if they've survived the invading Kushan attack.....or the monsters that supposedly fought them off.
The older one, Clyde, then turned to the bar and asked for six house roasts.
Erin slowly makes her way to Sebastion. She was going to try and grab his coin the next time it falls
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As the rowdy group arrive they jarJura from his peaceful relaxation, prompting a foul look from the man. From their conversation he quickly notes them as dangerous men and subtly prepares himself for combat. He looks over at the foreigner with a mild look of concern. Let's see how this plays out.
"Enjoying the meal?" He asks, deciding he had waited long enough. "What did you want?"
Although wary of the newly arrived group, Izsha has been visibly enjoying the meal. When Jura adresses her, she looks at him, almost as if startled: "Yes, it's good.", she manages to say she then continues, her voice lowered: "Are you... have you ever heard of a man called the Black Swordsman?"
I continue rolling my coin and look up at the loud group of soldiers, that distraction is enough however for me to drop the coin again. I go to pick it up off of the table when I realise something ... strange, "It didn't make any noise?" I go to pick it up again when I notice that it isn't on the table at all, but hovering just above. "What the?" I flatten my hand onto the table and move it under the coin to make sure there isn't something it is resting on.
Erin giggles as she keep hovering, she slowly moves the coin, even twirling it. Watching to see what he does as his coin seems to have a mind of its own.
I stare at the coin in disblief, "It's never done that before..." I keep my hand on the coin and try to catch it with my hand, but every time I am just about to grab it, it suddenly dashes away from my hand again. After a few minutes I look both confused and a little scared, I speak up loud enough for everyone near me to hear, "How does one retrieve an object claimed by a spirit? You said this place wasn't haunted, but what do you call this?" I pick up the pace of trying to catch the coin, "Why am I also finding this enjoyable?"
Rodrick looks up long enough to acknowledge the man speaking, as well as the fey creature that had been bothering him. Satisfied that the bar was decidedly not haunted he blows air out his nose and returns to his meal.
She grins, as he tries to show what he has percieved as haunted, she lets go of his coin so he can catch it. Now to wait. She was laughing quite loudly
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I try to grab the coin from the air, but I am so shocked that I miss it by inches and it clatters back to the table. I gingerly pick the coin up again, raise it about a foot above the table and let it drop ...
If no one else is looking, Erin grabs the coin again and makes it 'float' once more. Enjoying this game of 'what did i drink today? '
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Once again I try to catch the coin but as before, the coin eludes me. I continue going at it for a couple of minutes before an idea comes to mind. I reach into my pouch and get another coin out, I flick this one into the air as well, "Lets see how many you can keep up at once." It is clear that I am having fun, albiet confused fun.
While holding the coin, she conjures up an invisible hand to help catch the other one!
"Hah! Nice try!"
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I grin to myself and begin to laugh, it is the laugh of a merry person who is playing with a little sibling. "Now for number 3 ... I just hope these come back afterwards." I pull out another coin and flip that into the air also.
She uses the hand to catch it. Now each coin between fingers. She grins.
"I can go two more"
She zips up with the coin she is holding.
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"Yes, I know of him," He replies as a distracted look comes over him, as if recalling a memory. "It's said he is a mountain of a man, of monstrous strength who wields a blade no man should ever lift. Tales say how he roams the world, seeking something though none know what, killing any who cross his path. He is able to fell beasts and demons that kill scores of lesser men and though many have seen him bleed none have seen him fall."
Jura looks to his blade and rubs his hand along the hilt for comfort. "I've seen the remains of his kills before, the carnage, the destruction. The tales don't do it justice, I hope to never cross that man's path."
"So no, I am not him. If that's what you were wondering. My name is Jura, I'm a sellsword, if you wish a bodyguard I can do the job." He says, giving the soldiers a meaning full sidelong glance. "Seems like you could use one."