Let the RPing begin.
Darkbiter finished his dinner and was sitting around the campfire, cleaning his weapons as he watched the sun go down. Despite a rough patch when he first joined the Sea Wolves, the bestial looking half-orc had settled down comfortably in military life, and could almost call his brothers-in-arms friends if forced to articulate his thoughts, something very few people cared to attempt.
Training before he starts dinner Kaavel moves away from the camp to an empty space to start. Going through the forms he had done thousands of times since his childhood he starts losing himself in the training.
Practices his sleight of hand skills with small objects while reclining by the fire, and enjoying munching upon a haunch of wilds game.....
skill check
Making the haunch of meat disappear and re-appear in his hand....
"Tha way I was able tah eat when I lived mongst tha orcs, an had tah have food."
Cortland sat by the fire, swept off his bright crimson hat (with much less of a flourish than normal), and stretched out his back. By Shelyn, I am not used to this sort of life. I miss the court. He thought for a few moments of his childhood, then of the duel that changed his place in the world. Idly rubbing his scars with his maimed right hand, he resolved to stop missing his old life and embrace this one. "Grusk. Would you happen to have anymore meat over there? I'm starving, and I'm not so much the wilderness survival type.
"I suppose that's one way of getting what you need from orcs. I can't say that I ever had that need the few times I had to deal with them; they seemed too worried of my overbite to get in my way much." Darkbiter chuckles quietly.
Kicking back with his feet near the fire, the dark blond bard leans against his backpack staring at the stars. He sips sparingly from a cup containing a fingers worth of Oldlaw Whiskey, a taste he grew to enjoy sneaking from his old man's liquor cabinet.
@Ryuko
"I ave a bit more meat ye ken ave."
"Ave we heard yet o a mission, my axe is gettin cold an needs a warm blood-bath tah feel better. I need tah work tha edge up fine so tha first hit is extra clean."
"Whose gonna go in with me?"
"I'm sure your axe will survive a bit longer without getting its bath. The leadership will come up with something worth our time soon enough. I'd rather wait for a quality job than be stuck doing guard duty or some other lame task." Darkbiter talks quietly as he sharpens his greatsword, a massive piece of steel that had seen its share of battle and blood.
"Tha is a fine peice o steel yah got yerself there, I likes a big heavy blade myself!"
"Tha only guard duty I like is comin upon guards an doin mah duty an killin em."
"My thanks to you, Grusk. And I also would prefer not to take yet another guarding assignment" Cort thought about the last job watching a merchant caravan. IT had been torture. He was trying to train his left hand, not watch it fall asleep on the trail. Battle was all that could truly train, and Shelyn would not stand for him being less at his art than he could be.
Cort looked over at the new blonde recruit and smiled. "Is that Oldlaw I smell friend? Let me top you off." He pulled his belt flask and tapped it to the cup, "To friends both gone and yet unmet." he said solemnly before taking a long pull.
Blaze sits by the fire, staring into its flames deeply. Of all the time you guys have spent with him, these nights around a fire are the only times he seems quiet and at peace. "We'll get something to do soon enough, but I too would rather not get stuck with some sucky guard duty mission, there's so much more to do out there, so many more places to explore, I hear Taldor is nice this time of year" He mentions Taldor being "nice this time of year" every time in-between jobs.
"Better tah be ugly than pretty!"
Cortland watched the Corporal leave. He doesn't deserve leadership. he thought with an ugly sneer, bastard would lead us straight into the worldwound if he knew he could find a free wineskin there. Incompetent commanders. Yet another aspect of military life I find hard to accept. In Brevoy he would have simply challenged the man and forced him to yield leadersh.... That thought trailed off. If I challenged the man now he would cut me to ribbons. His maimed hand carressed the pommel of his sword. But not for long.
Cort looked at Blaze, "As I've said before, Taldor is nice damn near all year long. My family took holiday there every time we got the chance. I particularly recommend the Isle of Kortos. Beautiful country, and the women are to die for. Kellish skin with long, flowing brown hair. Well, once you get those damn wigs off. Taldans... insane for thier fashion I swear. This is a slightly odd statement coming as it does from the man who regularly wears a large, bright red hat and armor in the bright, primary colors of Shelyn.
"From all of your stories of Taldor, it sounds like they would be better off shoring up what they still have before they lose it rather than spending all their time on women and fashion." Darkbiter finishes polishing up his sword and putting it away in the scabbard on his back. "Sounds like we finally have a task worth our while; hopefully he didn't miss key details with his permanent headache like he has several times already. The man has the constitution of an giant as much he drinks. At any rate, I need to look into the rest of my gear; that last run in with the locals, which our dear corporal said would be a pushover, did a number on my armor, and some of the studs need to be replaced." With that, Darkbiter goes to his shelter, close enough to the fire to see any major activity, and pulls out his armor, carefully replacing the damaged pieces.
"Well that's Taldan all around isn't it? Watch a fancy play about romance as the playhouse crumbles about your ears. Still, damn fine women... right better than the odd types we've seen here. I miss civilization. What I wouldn't give for a hot bath that wasn't in the same water every living thing for miles uses to shit, and a warm bed with a warm woman too." Cortland leans back and sips a bit more of his Oldlaw. "But to more important matters, has a watch been set tonight? Would likely be a good idea. I don't like the look of this jungle."
"I or Grusk will probably be on midnight watch again. Beyond that, the corporal changes its around too much for me to keep track of."
Stopping his training Kaavel wipes the sweat from his body before going to eat his dinner. Looking around the fire Kaavel thinks about the new allies in the company. Sitting down he says "What did the corporal say? and watch is a good idea here."
"The Corporal," Cortland says the word with an ugly sneer, "got us a mission from command. If only the drunken fool could remember what it was. I suppose I'll take first watch, while it's still light enough to see." Cort brushes off his clothes, dons his crimson cap, newly adorned with a stitched wolf's paw in blue, and heads toward the edge of camp, keeping his eyes away from the fire.
"Thas right half-humans on tha darkest watch.....err half-orcs.."
Denny thanks Ryuko and then listens to the Corporal's drunken speech. He He stands, and assumes a posture eerily like the squad leaders.
"Allright you worthless apes. I don't want to hear no more b&!@*in'. We gots hiccup a nice fine mission clearing rats outta basements. Volunteered the Steer Wolves fir it meself. He takes a sip of Oldlaw but pretends he drains the whole cup. He clumsily wipes spittle off of his lips and stumbles over to the corporal's pack. "I guess I best be packing this gear here. Don't want to forget nothin cuz of no hangover...I mean headache." Still assuming Icy's mannerisms, he stuffs equipment into the pack, making sure the most useful stuff is in the bottom.
Blazes starts to laugh a bit loudly at Denny's impression, then quickly muffles it, just in case. "I don't care about the fashions or the ladies of Taldor. They are ugly compared to the lovely flowers of magnificent Qadira, and their sense of style is ass bacwards. No I and many of my brethren seek to conqueor Taldor and make it part of my fair homeland."
"I'm perplexed at that, Blaze. Why would you want to conquer a place like Taldor? Seems to me that all you would be inheriting is a lot of headaches and misery and risk infecting your own lands."
"I'd conquer Taldor if the money's right. And a woman's a woman, wherever she's from. From the fair-skinned beauties of Mendev to the chocolate colored l honeys of Mwangi. I'd give them all the fair shake as long as the bounce right. I remember this one exotic beut back in my college days. She hailed from a place called Tian. I still don't know where that is, but man I never saw another like her. And then there was this Ulfen chic. Boy, don't ever make them mad." He lifts up his shirt just enough to show a scar of what may have been a life threatening wound at one time before he goes on and on about the lasses that he and his friends used to chase back at the bardic college.
"I'm still not convinced a place like Taldor would be worth any amount of money, but at any rate, wake me up if someone decides I'm on watch tonight." Darkbiter heads to bed, bored with all the talk about women. While he understood the fascination to a certain extent, he didn't see the point in carrying on about ones from the distant past, especially ones that simply took one's money with little regard as to who it was coming from or what form it was in.
"A woman's a woman... Maybe, but none are like my Aileen." Cort stares wistfully off into the night, his tone reminiscent, "Now there is a woman my fine new friends, pretty as a sunrise over the mountains of her lands, hair dark as moonlight, eyes like endless seeing pools. That's a woman for settling down with, having little Broadcloaks of my own. That is... if..." He trails off for a moment and then, with forced cheer, "When, I go back to Brevoy. A Swordlord, with land and title restored, living as a man is meant to live." He fingers his sword in contemplation, then shakes himself out of his memories. "How about you Sunny? You got a pretty Qadiran lass to go home to?" Cort barks a short laugh into the night. "I'm sure your woman would be happy to see "The Conquerer of Taldor!" Hell I bet that emporor of yours will probably give you your very own patch of desert."
Kaavel just sits and listens while the others speak of the different women they have been with or have seen. He himself has always been to busy to deal with women in such a way. He had to perfect his art before he had time to think of such fun.
"The Taldans are weak, corrupt and soft. They do not deserve to rule a farmstead let alone a country. They have fallen from grace, and we seek to sweep them under the rug once and for all." As he says this, his eyes twinkle in the firelight, golden flecks appearing and disappearing.
As the conversation turns lighter, Blaze relaxes "I have seen women from a variety of cultures, Tian, Elven and Half-Elven, Dwarven, Halfling, Gnome, Orc and Half-Orc, I have seen women descended from Genies and Elementals, women blessed by the heavens, and women 'tainted' by Hell, I have even seen women from Vudra, yet none compare to those from my homeland. And no, I do not have a lady to return to as you speak of Cort, though I do have my older sister, Xemestra, waiting for me."
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"Bah!" the squad's surly medic says walking to the fire with a pot of something metallic smelling. "Ain't none o' ye ever known a real woman. All ye've ever seen're skinny waifs. All legs an' no tlts and hair tha' comes out when ye' give it a good yank."
Doc sets the pot down on the fire, ashes his cigar and takes a pull off the enormous steel tankard he's rarely seen without. "A good dwarven lass'd break any one o' ye'. 'Cept maybe Delgado there. He might be sturdy 'nough. The ladies you tall folk favor'd be cryin' an' beggin fer mercy if'n they ever took a roll with somethin' stouter. A good Dwarven lass, heh, ye' c'n bang 'er like a rented gong fer six or seven hours, an' she'll love it."
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Blaze quickly gets to his feet, and he looks pissed."I have seen many Dwarven women and while they can be attractive, there's only one problem" He puts his hand to the middle of his chest about a good foot or so taller than any Dwarf "You must be at least this tall to ride" He says, breaking out into a peal of laughter.
Doc raises an eyebrow, and grins to the group. "Ah think Blaze here's never given much thought t' tha benefits of a woman that only comes up t' yer waist."
Blaze continues to laugh "Perhaps, but I don't think you've given much thought to a woman whose a gymnast and contortionist."
"I to shall bed down, let me know when tis mah watch."
Picking up his pot and beginning to back to his makeshift medicine tent, Doc grunts. "If'n they wern't a' contortionist when ah start, they'd be by th' time ah finished..."
"I'm going with Doc here. Never underestimate a woman that can rest a beer on her head while she....ah, I'll take last watch." Denny finishes his tumbler of Oldlaw and turns in.
After listening to the conversation Kaavel shakes his head than gets up to leave. He than says before turning in " I will take any watch just wake me." He than goes to his bedroll to sleep.
[b]"My watch....."[ /b]
"I'll take second watch, not going to sleep anytime soon." With that Blaze wanders over to his tent, picks up his scimitar and begins one of his many sword dancing routines.
"My watch....."
"Suppose so." Cort stood from his spot facing the night and rubbed his buttocks. "Ugh, why's my arse this sore, feels like I just sat down. Watch out to the east, Grusk, thought I heard something about an hour ago." Cortland passed the fire and sat down, watching Blaze doing his sword dance, after a moment he piped up. "IS that a form of the Leader's Charge? It is, isn't it, I recognize that sidestep move." He cocked his head to the side, "Wierd to see an Aldori style from someone else, how do you compensate for the extra curve on the eighth move? It seems like you'd overextend."
"Bah sword dancers, wait til you see tha precision with which I strike with mah greataxe."
"It might be, but we call it Dawnflower's Charge where I come from. As to how I compensate for the extra cure, I twirl like this" The Qadarian spins deftly in air, as his blade aims down for what would be a deadly blow had an enemy been underneath him. "While you may strike with precision via your greataxe, it is a clumsy, overbearing weapon that is far too graceless and utterly lacks flair." He replies, the disdain for Grusk's chosen weapon clear in his voice.
"Don't misunderstand, I've seen what a greataxe can do to a man," Cort shudders in memory, "but I've yet to see one that can pick into the chink in a charging dire bears armor, or slide by the opponents blade as if it weren't there. A light blade will never let you down." Cort grabbed his own blade and held it to his head, whispering a prayer for a moment, then spun into the steps of the moves near Blaze.
Cortland keeps time with the steps quite easily, but is quite off in his strokes. Again and again I practice, but still I can't get my agility to where it was. Will my other hand ever keep up?
His sword trails short streams of blue, red and green light, coming from small reflective gems set in the blade. The overall performance is quite hypnotic.
"I like how you modified form 2, here." He says with a quick step, "allows you to keep momentum for the next attack. I'll work on that"
A loud bang, a short crash and a string of dwarven curses interrupt the beauty of the sword dances. Acrid smoke pours from the medical tent, followed shortly by a slightly singed dwarf carrying an exploded pot. "Hrrrk. Hhheck. So much fer tha' idea..."
He looks for a moment at all the heads that swiveled his way then tosses the remains of the pot over his shoulder. "What th' hells're alla ye lookin' at." and stomps off to a horse trough to dunk his head and wash his face.
At the crash the blade falls from Corts fingers and clatters to the ground. "Даммит!" He curses in Kellish. I can't even keep a grip on a blade. Damn my worthless hand. The young man looks up at Doc and says with near transparent fake cheer, "I'd say a briquette by the size and color of it."
Cort gathers his blade and moves away from Blaze to the fire, pulling down his hat over his face and beginning to sharpen the blade, muttering something under his breath as he does so.
"I do not cut with my blade. He who cuts with his blade has forgotten what it means to be a Swordlord. I cut with my mind." The young man seems almost to trance, working while repeating his creed, over and over.
"I do not kill with my blade. He who kills with his blade has forgotten what it means to be a swordlord." This last is always spoken with a bit of tightening around the mouth and eyes, as if spoken with pain. "I kill with my heart."
Kaavel looks around than says "I do, A temple you say? Would that be in the deeper part of the jungle or in the Bandu Hills?"
"Aye assume anything tha is not what you want is fair game fer our pockets, an bags?"
"I been needin a composite shortbow fer more tha a bit an sometimes mercenary wages must be supplimented...."
Darkbiter, who seemed to sleep through Doc's experiments and the dueling duelists without even noticing, joins the group in time to see the two corporals eyeballing each other. After introductions, "How large is this expedition, and what details do you have about this temple that we should know about if we want to keep everyone's hide intact?"