I just wanted a drink.

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by HeliumJack, Jun 18, 2012.

  1. The tavern was loud in a sort of way that a person wouldn't really notice unless they began actually listening. It tumbled over the ears in a quiet sort of din, though it was far from being as busy as any tavern in one of the larger cities. The people were as familiar to one another as the wenches were to the nethers of the young men, and the drunks to the handles of their mugs. It was a comfortable place, watching over the Long Road, the road that touched the continent to nearly every corner with its branches. Any and all were welcome and welcomed warmly by the people of the small village sprawling behind it, who made their trade with their fruit trees.

    Pyrell had chosen the comfortable little place sheerly from being too damned tired to walk any farther. She bought a room, and then a cup of ale and a loaf of bread, and after a thought, some stew. Sleeping in a warm bed would be better with a warm belly, and she was starving anyhow. The stew was excellent, a nice dark stew with bits of beef, carrot, potato and apple, and it wasn't long before it and the loaf of bread were joined within her stomach. Sitting in the corner, she took small drinks of her ale, enjoying the warmth in her stomach and the sweet drowsiness coming over her. A few males approached her, offering her more drinks, hoping, perhaps, for a time with her under the sheets, and she turned all of them away, not feeling up to the exercise.

    Long, lean Pyrell sat in the corner of the tavern, watching the goings-on of the commoners. Her red hair was still dull thanks to the fake dark color she had regularly painted it, but it was thankfully coming out. She found it refreshing to have the short locks that framed her vision to be again the natural fiery red, the red that sent into hiding the everyday colors she encountered. Not the dull, boring black she had kept for the past year and a half in disguise. She could not travel places unnoticed being such an obvious foreigner from across the Long Sea.

    The slender woman's thoughts of home pause as the atmosphere within the tavern shifted, once, curiously and tense, and then back again, and everyone sat easily in their seats once more, muttering about clouds, not sure what had just occurred, or maybe had failed to occur. Pyrell chewed on her bottom lip, seeing as how there wasn't much to the top lip, and nearly white brown eyes looked into the groups and multiples of people sitting around the room, wondering herself what had just happened.
  2. It was noisy. And loud. Why had she come here again? She didn't know. Could be for the rumored good food, or for information, or even better, the multitude of thieving options. With so many people in one spot, how could she resist the temptation? So she did not. No doubt that come morning of the next day, many of the tavern's patrons would be missing more than a few valuables.

    She hid her wince in the shadow of her deep hood, the noise of the chattering extra loud to her ears. A gloved hand came up and brushed a few strands of faint blue hair back in to the safety of the cloak's hood. The less people that knew of her oddity, the better. A scarf covered most of her visible face, leaving only a stripe of blue across equally blue eyes visible to watchers. She sat against a wall, observing the people and taking notes on what was being left unsaid.

    In the corner one woman was thinking about home, and her natural hair color, of which was red. Others were thinking about the day's work and of feuds. Nothing of interest to Azzurra.

    She held a small leather pouch in her hand, a soft clinking sound came from it whenever it was moved if one was close enough to hear it. Into this pouch she withdrew a small blue stone. Small it was, but it would do for now she mused bringing it up to her mouth and eating it. Of this no one near her noticed her action.
  3. Pyrell was soon drowsing at her table, the warmth of the tavern and the food in her stomach reminding her that she was exhausted and needed to sleep. She couldn't wait to crawl into the bed that she had rented for the night, curl up under the blankets, and sleep the long walk, and the events before it, off. The red head would sleep well. Especially since she was falling asleep as she walked to the stairs that led up to her room. That night, however, Pyrell and many of the tavern goers would not be getting the good night's rest that they had anticipated.

    In the moments on her way to the stairs, the tavern doors loudly shot open as they were kicked in by the soldiers on the other side of the door, and for a small second, the tavern peoples looked towards the alien noise, wondering what was going on. But, when one of the soldiers' next move was grabbing the nearest person there, connecting an elbow with the side of their head when they resisted, the tavern exploded into a flurry of chaos and fists. Pyrell, now fully wide awake, tried to hurry upstairs, hoping to climb out of a window, to no avail. As she was climbing the steps, soldiers streamed in the back door, and one of them deftly caught her ankle, beginning to drag her outside.

    She was cursing her terrible luck, cursing the soldiers, cursing that she hadn't chosen to sleep on the side of the road that night. Prison was the last thing that she wanted to experience, and if she didn't somehow defeat enough of the men trying to tie her up, she wasn't going to get away. She needed to get out very quickly.

    Before the soldier could drag her very far, her booted foot caught him in the gut, and he doubled over, letting her go, but not for long. Two more tried to make a grab at her. She put all of her fighting skills to the test, but they had spears and shields to her fists and arms. But she had magic. Words began tumbling out of her mouth, her hands aflame, and soon, the soldiers' clothes, and as they rolled on the floor trying to put it out, the tavern itself. Pyrell felt no remorse for the tavern, only self-interest as she ducked through the gap she had created, out into the crisper air beyond. So busy was she trying to get away and planning what to do next, she passed one of the soldiers in the dark who had lagged behind. It took him no time to land a wooden shield against the back of her head, and thereafter she lay on the ground motionless.

    The people being caught had been tossed into the road before the tavern, in piles of drunk, knocked out, or defeated people, and the roped up red headed witch was soon to join one of these piles, before being tossed into the back of a dark, musty wagon.
  4. Commotion. That was all Azzurra could comprehend before she was grabbed, thrown, and eventually tossed into the back of a wagon. She held back a cry of pain as the amount of noise became too great for her ears to handle. Slowly, as the painful ringing in her ears died down, her mind went back to before the sudden seizure.

    She was minding her own business, relishing the energy burst of the small snack and contemplating the notion of sleep when it all happened. First, a flurry of thoughts, dark and grim touched her searching mind and warned her of something happening. Second, a full out fight exploding out when soldiers stormed the tavern and began man-handling the patrons. A third thing, one that she did pay attention to was that the woman who she had been 'listening' to, had a hand full of fire. That Azzurra thought needed some attention. A woman throwing around fire with a few words and a snap of the fingers? That encounter would have been fun. But it would have to wait.

    Now to just get out of the wagon. What to do, what to do... Maybe she ought to just stick around a bit and see what the problem was? No? No. she would be held in prison and if it was possible, tortured untill she told her captors the how and why of her unique condition. Speaking of which, her scarf had slipped from her face during the rush and her face was now fully visible. She thanked her seldom lucky stars that it was nighttime and no one could effectively see her.

    Tentatively, she reached out a tendril of thought to the soldiers minds and was confused. Their thoughts were of a raid, a raid in the hopes of quelling what she did not know,but of this she was certain, escape would be pointless at the moment. She curled up as the small space allowed and accidentally bumped into someone.
  5. Pyrell was nudged out of unconsciousness by someone, and her light eyes snapped open angrily, expecting a fight, but only found her hands and feet tied, on the floor of a splintered wagon in the dark. She cursed lowly, and tried squirming free of the ropes, but they were much too tight. She didn't want to try using fire to burn them off, for fear of setting fire to the wagon itself.

    The mage's eyes began making out the shape in front of her, presumably the person who had knocked into her and woken her up, which made her pretty mad. If she was going to be stuck in this wagon, she'd rather not be awake for it. They were facing each other, and Pyrell did her best to try and to make out the other person's face. When she realized it was too dark, she murmured something, and a small ball of light popped into existence over her head. As soon as the other person's, a woman's, face came into focus after being in the dark, Pyrell quickly extinguished her light.

    Her heart was thumping rapidly away. Perhaps the woman had only seemed...blue, because Pyrell's eyes hadn't adjusted yet. She finally just asked in a whisper, "...You're...not normal, are you?"
  6. Azzurra flinched back as the ball of flame flickered into existence. Of all the times, why did her bad luck pop up now! Stuck in a wagon with the fire caller... some deity must be laughing at her. But the flame went out almost as quickly as it had came up, dousing the small space in darkness yet again. She hoped the fire caller didn't see her oddity! Not that she was ashamed of it, but the questions would be painful to endure.

    It was not to be. Her blue eyes sought out the figure in front of her, knowing instinctively that her guise was up. She sensed the the question before she heard the softly spoken question, her sensitive ears hearing it as if the speaker were speaking normally.

    With a sigh both mental and physical, Azzurra sat up carefully, leaving a bit of room between her and the other woman. "Neither are you." The thought sounded as if she had spoken out loud and had a strange bell like quality to it. Azzurra never spoke when she could send, the mere sound of her own voice caused her poor ears to hurt.
  7. Pyrell struggled to sit up for a moment, trying to get her weight off of her arm, and when she finally succeeded in sitting, she winced. Her arm was numb and starting to tingle from being asleep. She kept it deathly still, not wanting to disturb it. She'd have rathered lay on the floor, but, seeing as this blue person was sitting as well, the fire starter figured it was expected of her. Pyrell hated this darkness that was blanketing everything. The blue woman was, when Pyrell thought back on what she had seen, incredible looking. Like some jewel.

    She would have conjured another light, except most of the other captives would complain, and she felt like keeping the secret to herself. "Well. That's interesting." She murmured again. It was there that Pyrell's limited social skills stopped, and she simply sat, looking at the direction of the back of the wagon, hoping for some glimpse of moonlight. Pyrell hated the dark.

    The mage had not even noticed the odd thought-speak, until someone next to her grumbled, "What the hell are you talking to?"

    Pyrell snarled back, with a swift kick to what was presumably their stomach, "Shut the fuck up!" Their groans drowned out most of her retort, but they quickly quietened down, scooting as far away from her as possible.