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Tyr waves her down as well, and gives an eye to Quinn. " Calm the calamity, that is your mammaries, ladies. Jo' here has given us some info outta' the goodness of his black heart. I didn' know she had a lover for example. Think a chick like that would end up all alone like our 'Elf' here. Fer practical reasons 'course. " The Wyvern sighed, the comedic value of the situation wasted, likely. " Numbers Jo' we need numbers. Y'know that thing I grill'd you an earlier. That's important. "
" I suppose you had your reasons. So my reward? "
" Did this guy rape your mother or something? I mean I understand getting to the top, but if its just to screw over another person who.. might be alright. Defeats the purpose doesn't it? "
" And you needed the Distraction for what? To get a body on stage? I mean maybe one of them was a fine fighter.. but the rest were mediocre at best. And your devil dude still died to them. What's to say that leg couldn't have been you? "
" She'll be back I'm sure. " Walking over to the man. " So what now? Was that your trainin' time? Dupe some guys into killin' some mooks? "
" They took a little too much off the top, there a reason you showin' this? "
" Can yah fix a leg? I'll take a leg too. "
" Well.... Shame. " Tyr finishes him
" I dunno, sellin' drugs and killin' some kid at the front. Unless you didn't. Threats don't work when I barely know these ladies. "
" Ah f%$# you went and hurt the lady. That's a paddlin' FROM THE EIGHT DEVILS! " Tyr rushed up an smote the man who struck down Quinn " EAT IT "
Flames soar around his blades and Tyr strikes at the man once more, to remove the head from the snake. " HEAT SCALES! "
" THE DEVILS WHO ARE EIGHT DEMAND BLOOD... FOR SOME REASON. " He spins around slashing at the man on Delara
" THE EIGHT DEVILS GANG WANTS YOU DEAD ... I GUESS! "
" Its not uncommon, most people have the sense not to keep doing it is the difference. Let's get this over with. " Tyr stands up and starts to walk behind them.
" Fair enough. And for the record, that's the 'mercenary' talkin' not the 'clan' or whatever. He's been a good sport, the least I could do for him. "
" Well Excuse me for wanting to use that bean located in my noggin'. I just thought if we were being friendly with each other that it'd be on an equal level. Considerin' you likely want us to, y'know, finish the job the best we can. But clearly I was wrong. Like you said, I'm new around here. Let's jump into fates jaws... as apparently the custom here. "
" I like my 'help' in tangible assets or agreed concepts. What 'EXACTLY' are we gettin' out of you besides your much appreciated respect, Mista' Jo' "
The scaled man looks to Johansen with a warrior's glare, to show how serious he seemed. " You need to tell me why the Moon Circle wants to kill a 'Simple Errand Boy' to get in here knowing very well the set up. None of those guys seem weak either, not stronger than me but not exactly weak. What aren't you telling us? " He questioned the information broker.
Tyr'El Makes sure any of these guys he hadn't seen on the battlefield or heard while he was in a tavern or between warm sheets with soft company.
Tyr was just along for the ride, but his experience as a Merc told him he should be more informed about anything he would take up. You live longer that way and with the current situation being not to kill Sapphire Initiates openly, that carefulness was a smidge higher than normal.
Tyr shrugged and followed along, " Yeah I figure I could use a drink too, nothin' to hard though. We don't exactly have much spare income. "
" - F-fair enough then. I'll stick close to you, Miss Expert. " A slight cold-sweat rand down the back of his neck as he scaled brow quirked at the quickness of her response.
" Oh, huh .... I'm guessin' she knows more than she puts on. " Tyr shrugs, keeping his blades tight in hand. " Why do I need to watch my pockets? Clearly anyone would - "
" I don't have the ' Eldritch - tentacle ' type of body nor the gruff cutthroat feel. Might be able to get me for muscle. That's about it. "
" How far is the Lightless District? "
" That would be great too but that still requires a certain amount of capital I'd be comfortable with before we go on. Well, that was all wishful thinkin' anyhow. A whole 20~ish gold is more than what we started with, that means we have enough to eat and drink. "
" So it's either suspected murder-wife or Freaky-lookin' gang leader. " Tyr sighed heavily, his mind looking to other options. " We don't have much of a choice here, so unless the smart people act smart, we're boned. "
" .... but why though..? " " Why would you even...? "
" They ain't easy. Either in a Clanhold or Unknown... Great "
The man squints and shrugs, " Probably, but likely a small time criminal. His family is going hungry tonight if he has one regardless. Let's go pawn off this. " " Check bounties while we are at it. "
" He isnt worth the cash. A+$%%+# probably has too many 'friends' to do it directly. I ain't payin' for a botched job either. " " These greenhorns didnt even have any real gold. Ugh, it's gunna be a rat race. "
The only words that can come up after Tyr reads the message is, " F!$% this guy. " He passes the note to Quinn and unceremoniously strips the two bodies of any value they have on them. " Using us as a cleaning service. Why did I think it would be any different. "
Tyr'El whistles impressed at the scene so quickly devolving into exacted bloodshed. " Didn't have to lift a finger for once. Let's see if ol' blowhorn here was worth his salt? Though this affirms my idea about gang's being squat. " Walking over and digging through the lower half's pockets ignoring the entrails.
" That's a damn shame. Seems you lost the memo about quality over quantity. Iff'n you aint part of the Syndicate, you best leave. 'Cause I don't get points for hurtin' you. "
Tyr'El would pull out one of his Warglaives and places it towards the group following them. " Alright boys! Why are you followin' us?! We ain't lettin' anyone join us either. So what're you doin'? "
Tyr stops, turning around and looking at the apparent posse the team had amassed behind them. " Oh yeah? What do they find so interestin'? " The obsidian-scaled Wyvern said with a relaxed candor. His teeth gleamed in the light. " You want us should handle this or what, Cave Elf? "
" Sucks to happen. A Mace to the face would kill alot of people. Good weapon. " Tyr grunts thinking on his own experiences. " Let's check on if there are any legal bounties or similar around the place. Then we can try the more shady stuff. Maybe invent somethin', though it'd have to be city-made ... or we are going to need ties outside to get resources. "
Tyr sighed. " I guess we'll be needing that. Dammit, I didn't ask for any of this. Hurry up and get it over with we have money to make and lives to live. It might only be Three days at this rate. " The scaled man stuck his hand out. " So is it magic or ... ? "
Tyr snickered, any sane person would be leaving for equal parts fear, eagerness and practicality. The sound of branding however, he drew some alarm to. While it was not uncommon for Mercenary Bands or Military groups to have you sworn in with ink or sigil, no such thing was indicated in the rules provided. Tyr was especially on guard. " I don't think so. That wasn't part of the agreement. Honor, obligation, procedure or not. "
Standing up from his chair Tyr huffed at the surrounding air. A sense of creeping over the situation. Well, it wouldn't get any better sitting here. Moving past the dark skinned woman, the Wyvern smirked and kicked his feet forward. " Let's mosey along then. Stick as a group though, I have a bad feeling about this whole situation. There are likely fools just like the podium-hugger said, those dumb enough to skirt the rules anyway " Tyr shook his head at the thought, " I don't plan to make us the prey to start it. "
" Right , Right I see what you are gettin' at. The only problem is time. If we had say... a month that would a bit more feasible. With a few day though? I'm not seeing it being that worth if our asses can get to the top quickly. I mean, its a start, I'm sure there are people who wold pay to put any local scumbags down while we do this. I'm just thinking our back-up be something that also creates dosh automatically. Somehow. "
" Lay the plan on us then, Oh' wise ones. I half expected her to do it, surprise; surprise. "
" Can't leave though and Can't harm anyone directly... so what are you thinkin'? I mean, I might be able to find a job or two but it likely isn't going to be high payin' and if it is we ain't takin' it. "
" So how are we gunna make munny? " " To my knowledge, Hell isn't buyin' anything I don't still need. So that's right out. "
The chair landed with a resounding thump and the full weight of the draconic man slammed to the seat. He scratched at an earhole. " Tyr'El, Mercenary of the 45th company of Scalehearts. Recently discharged due to... circumstances. I can fight with the best of them and take lick or two. My expertise is mainly trade, warfare and involvement with the going-ons of such. Other than that.. alright listener. "
" Chick's right. We only have 71~ish hours left to live. I say we are all rejects. There. Now whats next on the failure list? Name who has the biggest member to swing around or are we too old to swordfight? "
" As much of an elf as I'm a Dragon. " Tyr'El leaned in his chair.
The Blackscaled Wyvern tipped back in his seat. He could see it already, the cutthroat nature of this entire exercise could only bring suffering, but it was crafted with the intention of summoning every gutter-rat and scum within the area. It was a trap both mentally and physically. Those without could not resist the lure and those with simply craved more. It was the nigh-perfect combination of all encompassing wills; Greed, Obligation, Pride, Poverty, Acceptance, Generosity, Hate, Lust, Envy, Individualism. A variable Hell awaited those who participated... It only pained Tyr'El to admit, He was among those who were desperate. Looking from a cross-armed comfort his eyes opened after contemplating the situation. As a mercenary, the threat of death was commonplace... this time it simply involved strength of mind more than strength of Arms. " Sure thing Lord Trash-Panda, If you keep on like that we won't have any supplicants. " " Now seriously... what do we do? Whatever it is... gonna at LEAST have this amount on the table later. I'm not dying earlier than I have to. "
Race: Wyvern Class Choice: Warrior
Background: Sellsword
Spirit: Lion
Element: Fire Equipment: 2 Warglaives
Final Stats: Strength = 37
HP = 12
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