Internal Affairs

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by xWyCKeD, May 24, 2014.

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  1. <<This setting is designed to be open. I have no particular lean towards what races live here, high/low magic, or areas to be imagined outside of the small scene I will set. This is meant to be contributed to and adapted as we go. Have fun>>

    Dark brown leather boots, weathered by weeks travelling the dusty road, stamped out the last ember of the tiny fire he had kept burning through the night. His cloak, he pulled a bit tighter about his shoulders as he looked down to his destination from the forested knoll.
    The small hamlet, home to a handful of farmers, some clergy, and a smattering of craftsmen was just beginning to stir. Most would be leaving their home soon, making their way to fields or workshops.
    A heavy breath accompanied his first steps down the side of the hill. If he intended to make the edge of town as the streets emptied and people set to their daily tasks he had best break camp now.
    His mind wandered to the last time he had enjoy a hot meal, and his stomach grumbled quietly in protest. With that he vowed to himself to remain long enough, after he completed his business, to enjoy something at the hamlet's only tavern.
    Father I come.
    #1 xWyCKeD, May 24, 2014
    Last edited by a moderator: May 24, 2014
  2. She dressed in a fitting but flowing knee length blue dress as she prepared to head for the tavern, like she did every day. The people around here didn't usually wear things like what she is putting on, but she didn't care, she liked it and it was more comfortable than the long dresses everyone else wore. she left her long black hair falling in waves down her back and grabbed her black hooded cloak as she headed out the door, pulling the hood up. As she entered the tavern, happy it was empty for now, she sighed thinking to herself that she needed to get out of this place, or at least find someone to make her want to stay.
  3. Another traveler approached the small village, his steps silent on the soft grass, leaving footmarks so discrete only a dog would find them. Covered in traveling clothes adjusted to the slim body with a few straps, the lonely figure descended a hill, approaching the place by the west, receiving the rising sun right on his face, covering his pale skin in a welcome warmth.

    At the distance, his attentive eyes caught the silhouette of another person, coming from an elevation full of trees. He was not sure if said person would look back at him, but he was easily visible in the open space; for a second, he had the impression their paths would touch each other in any given moment. Yet, he was not worried. He rarely was.

    When crossing the streets, with the first groups of people going to their works and starting their activities, he drew some looks of curiosity. While his people was fairly know in the region, probably they didn't show themselves in quite some time in the small place. He entered the tavern, looking for some rest, food, and water, but the place had no visible employees, only a feminine figure dressed with a cloak and a lively blue dress. He approached, showing a relaxed expression, trying to sound and look friendly. His long hair, braided and tied, had a very pale shade of blond; his eyes, almost white and shining like crystals, had slitted pupils like a cat.

    "Hello. You know someone who works here?" the voice was serene.
  4. Before he would have thought upon leaving his camp, he looked up and was almost upon the church at the edge of town. Silently he cursed himself for being lost in his own mind for so long. The danger here was small of course, but such distraction could be fatal elsewhere.

    The church itself was well kept, but utilitarian. The walls were a light gray color, probably painted freshly within the last year. The roof had a slight pitch, just enough to shed melting snow. The large doors were some hardwood that he couldn't identify, and no sign of any particular god adorned them. Folks in this region kept a handful of different faiths, and it just made more sense to have one church that catered to them all in these farming villages.

    Ralf pushed his way inside. This wasn't a holy day, and at this time there would be very few if any patrons within. He paid no attention anyhow, he did not come here for other patrons.

    As he approached the altar, a hand slipping under his cloak to drag a thin curved short sword from its scabbard against his back. He fell to a knee before the altar, curving that blade point up behind him with his right hand. His left hand met the floor, and his head bowed. The Closed Fist, was the proper way to great Sarcen, patron god of his order.

    He waited.
  5. She smiled sweetly at the man who had approached her and took her hood down. Her bright green eyes met his and she stared for a moment before finally saying "oh, yes. I work here." She told him nearly tripping over her words, she had never seen eyes like his before. She walked to a small closet and took off her cloak, putting it inside and closed the closet door. She looked back at him and asked "what can I do for you?"
  6. He smiled. "Please, would you be gentle to bring some bread, fruits, milk, or tea... what you usually serve for breakfast? I know it's too early... but I don't have a proper meal in a long time." he explained, apologetically. In fact, he didn't eat in nearly 24 hours, but kept that to himself. At least he had enough coins to pay him his food, and a room in the hamlet.

    "Also... I'm waiting for someone who would meet me at this place. Have you seen recently another traveler, a woman from my kind, with light blue eyes?" he questioned, a bit worried. He bit his lip, showing a canine tooth a bit sharp. "Sorry. I should introduce myself. You can call me Allen."
  7. After some time he stood up, gracefully slipping that weapon into its home under his cloak once again. He waited a moment longer, staring into nothing, his mind threatening to unravel. Receiving orders directly from a God was taxing enough, but these...

    As he felt his consciousness come back under his own control he turned to leave.

    Is she ready?

    It was not his place, he reminded himself, to question the father.

    He slipped from the church quietly, and made his way towards the tavern, remembering his promise.
  8. She nodded at him "that's not problem" she smiled sweetly at him then motioned toward one of the tables "sit wherever you'd like and I'll bring you something " she began to walk away until she heard him speak again asking about someone. She shook her head at his question "I'm afraid I haven't, sorry" she answered politely then walked through a set of doors leading to the kitchen of the tavern to make the man some food. His request was simple so she made him some toast with jelly, a bowl of mixed fruits, and a glass of milk then brought them all put to him. "It's a simple breakfast" she told him "but honestly I think it's much better than an extravagant one" she smiled as she set the food in front of him.
  9. His garb, like the church, was utilitarian. Matching dark brown cloak and boots, both had seen significant time on the road. Around his waist an apparently new black leather belt held up black pants designed for toughness as well as mobility. His shirt was white and relatively loose fitting, with sleeves extending to his elbows. Across his chest, the black strap holding the scabbard to his back was visible.

    Physically Ralf was not imposing. He was of barely average human male height, and slightly on the slender side. His right arm bore three parallel scars. A fourth scar was visible just above his right eyebrow. Below, deep set light blue eyes appeared almost gray.

    As he pushed the door to the tavern open and found a seat just by it, he pulled his hood back to reveal a mop of black hair that had gotten much longer than he liked it. His facial hair was also black, and had also grown in some.

    He pulled a few silver coins from his pocket and set them on the table.
  10. After setting the food down she walked over to the new person who had just entered the tavern. She looked the stranger up and down taking note of his appearance. It seemed as if he had been traveling. She approached him with the sweet smile she used for everyone who came in. "What can I get for you?" She asked with that smile still on her face. She got tired of smiling like that all the time but didn't have much of a choice.
  11. As the days began to burn during the summer, the entirety of the town would turn into a huge, simmering heat-bowl. Air would dance out its seasonal theater upon the ground, flicking illusions of shimmering water or passing fairies through the air like warlocks did their magic. Nature's magic. She liked to think that the outdoors had their own chants and spells - one for every occassion, a special one for every passerby. There was an incantation for the falling ice storms during the winter, and she knew, she was sure of it, that there were words to make birds fly and beetles crawl about lazily in the heat. That was and had always been her way of describing the world around her. Magic. She had not been raised in near proximity to inventors or alchemists, though she had been read about them as a child before her life had taken such a drastic turn. Most of her schooling had come from the wise woman she knew as herself. Familiar, though perhaps not as wise as an educator should be. Perhaps a bit lazy in her explanations, and wild in her fantasies.
    She did not know of science, but she did know of magic. She had seen it. She had used it, to an extent.
    And so the world was magic.
    Her favorite magic was the kind she saw in nature. Everyday, around her. Especially in the spring and the summer and the fall, and the winter.

    These thoughts had come to her only a few moments earlier, when, peeping sleepily out from underneath an old tarp to let the sun kiss her soft cheek, a breeze had passed her by. It shoved along the hurried scent of warm berries and hot, popping herbs. She had closed her eyes and stretched her body to enjoy the aroma as it faded - this magic was suspicious, however, and she had to investigate. That smell didn't emitate from the delicate forest fruits until around midday. Something else had heated them - her first guess was a forest fire, which could be bad or interesting. Her second was that a foreigner had left his fire on all night too close to an overripe bush, which could be either more-bad or more-interesting. And so, sleep still clinging gently to her scantily clad and rather dusty frame, the-girl-whom-the-villagers-doubted-really-existed slipped silently into the trees towards the scent of the berries.

    And so, she was here. Here, the farthest from her post she dared to leave, and the closest to the village she dared to come. She hugged a tree from behind as if hiding behind an old friend and watched curiously, golden eyes twinkling faintly with interest and slightly with intensity. Here was the reason she had ventured so far - this odd man, this stranger.

    His garb, like the church, was utilitarian. His matching dark brown cloak and boots both seemed to have seen significant time on the road. Around his waist an apparently new black leather belt held up black pants designed for toughness as well as mobility. His shirt was white and relatively loose fitting, with sleeves extending to his elbows. Across his chest, the black strap holding the scabbard to his back was visible.

    The stealthy girl with the strong quiet legs followed her subject with her eyes until he had disappeared into the tavern. And then the-girl-whom-the-villagers-doubted-really-existed sat for a moment to catch her breath.
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  12. "Thank you." Allen said to the girl after she set him the food. He slipped enough coins over the table to pay well for his meal, and started to eat with great appetite. He was discretely devouring the last fruits when the stranger entered the tavern; he quickly recognized the silhouette from the elevation between the trees.

    Here you are, earlier than I thought. He meditated, following the other with his clear eyes. The pointed ears among his long hair flickered. That man had a mission moving each of his steps, something that could inspire respect, but also distrust. Sometimes, Allen would let the godesses guide his moves, especially the Twins Zehani and Zathani, or their Mother... but that was different. Mostly, he just followed his heart.
    He knew there was a reason for everyone to be there.

    He was afraid for his friend, that was not there yet. Something inside him was telling him she was not even close to her destination. Something was off.

    Also... more people would be part of this puzzle.
  13. Mizuki would gaze up at the building; bright ruby eyes glittering curiously at the lights; soft ears twitching upon her head at the many different sounds of muttering from within...Laughter..Chatting...The normal sound of any bar where drunkards sat to rest. She would tilt her head slightly to one side, some of her cotton pink hair falling over the delicate features of her face; unsure of her decision in perhaps checking the place out. She was a shy girl...Quiet...Often kept well out of anyone's way; tending to keep herself isolated in fear of the disasters which may occur if she got too close to anyone. But then again, her curiosity always got her into trouble...and she just couldn't help but push herself into going in.

    Though, before she could do so, her feline ears would swivel; twitching again to the sound of of foot steps. Her gaze would turn; the tip of her tail twitching with interest to see a man as he began to enter the tavern; wooden door letting out a squeak as he would push it open. In the split second that he passed, she would take a moment to examine him; the wear of his boots and clothes clearly stating his many hours of travel. Just another person passing by...But...there was something off...another person, perhaps? Her ears would move; listening..straining to hear something else. She could have swore she heard something else...another pair of feet...Her eyes would gaze around her through thick trees. site of another being would appear...At least, if there was a person, she couldn't see them specifically. Perhaps she had just imagined it?...

    With a soft sigh at her lips, she would return to her stride towards the tavern; pushing open the door as well, which would let out it's common squeak in announcement of the new visitor. She wore the clothes she often wore that day...A white t-shirt which seemed to be, perhaps, slightly too big for her since it often slid off one shoulder...A red skirt that went just above her knees and grey stockings that ended at her thighs...She also wore plain white tennis shoes; the shoes being much more comfortable for travel and movement. Mizuki never wore high heels..They seemed much too troublesome and she found no point in them; not fully understanding the pull they had on most woman.

    Already, however, as her eyes would take a moment to gaze about the building, she felt nervous...The fur on her tail would fluff up slightly in her fear; wrapping around her right thigh as if in an attempt to hide from those around her, like it had a mind of it's own. Despite the fact of wishing to simply turn around and run straight back to her cabin, she would force herself to stay. Mizuki had seen this tavern for quite some time; watching it from a distance...She had even scrounged around enough gold coin to perhaps try out some food here....But never had she built up enough courage to actually do it. Today was the day, and she wouldn't go back now...

    She would hesitantly stride across the floor, deciding well on a high stool that sat before the bar counter. Mizuki had always preferred high places, after all...She would place her hands on the stool; wiggling her way up to sit at it as she would adjust herself; brushing down her skirt. At that point, the fur of her tail had smoothed out; forgetting her fear as her eyes would gaze up at the different drinks...Different foods; thinking deeply...She only had so much coin, of course...So she would have to choose wisely. But what of these things would she enjoy?...
    #13 ZaBanpaiaNeko, May 26, 2014
    Last edited by a moderator: May 26, 2014
  14. He noticed the girl come in just after him.

    Stranger folks than I last was here.

    He was pulled from his thoughts as the woman asked after his meal

    "Anything warm will be fine." He forced a smile back and slid her the coins before returning to mulling over the task he'd been set

    He came to the conclusion he would have to leave immediately following his meal. Several days lay between here and his destination and time, it seemed, was short.
  15. she nodded and quietly made her way to the back to get his food. she brought out a plate of hot food for him and set it down infront of him. Noticing more people had arrived in the tavern she made her way to each one asking what they needed and quickly but quietly got it for them.
  16. As he enjoyed his food, he took in the other patrons of the tavern.

    The feline hybrid, seemingly on the edge of flight, he considered what she might have to fear as his gaze moved on. The other male in the room was a curiousity, his eyes were a bit strange, and some uneasiness rested within them. The server woman was another mystery. Her presence, friendly attitude, seemed somehow forced. Ralf couldn't blame her really. One wouldn't get rich serving tables in a small village like this. He also couldn't shake the feeling that he had seen this woman before.

    Finally he looked back to his food, considering...
  17. As she helped the others who had come into the tavern she couldn't help but to keep looking back at the man who looked as though he had been traveling a while. He was calm, and seemed to be quite aware of his surroundings. she wondered where he has been and how far he traveled. Having never been outside of this small town, the thought of traveling excited her. When she had helped everyone else she walked back over to this mysterious man. "Is there anything else i can do for you?" she asked as she took in his appearance one more time, his brown cloak, the white shirt, black pants, belt, dirty boots, and all.
  18. Finished his meal, Allen looked outside the window, where the city was bathed by the morning sunlight. The tavern was getting more customers, and his chest, more worries. The feline girl was a surprise to him; her people was not far from his own, and the two kind were both allies and adversaries in moments lost in time. Now, the two rarelly meet each other.

    He couldn't shake off the feeling that something was being planned under the surface of things. He pulled a shabby envelope from his robe, the letter he received from his friend Dianna. Her calligraphy was familiar and welcoming in this strange place. She wanted him to join her in the small village, from where the two would depart heading northwest, until they could reach the shores. They would cross the mother sea, to reach the island of Irya, a place known for being sacred to many races...

    Then he noticed: 'sea' was written in her fine letters, and called 'mother' for they both, especially Dianna, respected the Goddess of all oceans. But it was written with no capital letter. She would never do that.
    Suddenly, all the falsity of that letter appeared clearly to his view. The Capital 'A' was not hers, the words seemed inclined to the right, she called him 'dear', when the word never came from her lips... it was a lie. And he couldn't believe he didn't notice before. He was... blinded, somehow.

    Allen looked again through the window, where many small leaves were carried by the wind, like a wild and jesting dance. Zathani. Something was really being planned. He was but a pawn. His gaze travelled to the other man, the one who seemed under a mission.
    There was, in the dusty past, a sign for people who worked to accomplish missions gave directly by deities. Sometimes, this simple gesture was enough to create primordial alliances in gloomy times, helping paladins to recognize their potential friends; but also many deaths came upon the ones who served gods in perpetual quarrel. This secret was now nearly lost among all mortals, as faith changed through the centuries, and gods started to work secretly with their chosen ones. He was not a direct servant, but Allen's finger traced the simple sign close to his left eye, staring at the man with his wild eyes, and waited.

    He wanted answers, and that man could give some.
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  19. Inside of the tavern the air was warm with bodies and chatter and laughter - a room overfull with people of all backgrounds and agendas. The aroma of food had nearly nowhere to go, and so it spilled forth from every window and open door. The girl who had followed the man in the dusty boots to the tavern and then waited outside still waited outside. Why, she wasn't really sure.

    Why do people wait outside of taverns?

    Her big maple eyes painted over every door and window, as if searching for an answer. Maybe she waited because she was hungry - or maybe it was the curiosity that kept her glued to her hidden vantage point, unseen and seeing all. Deep inside of her mind though, she knew the real reason - the same reason she followed anybody who came through the woods.

    There, in the trees, she had stayed for so long - alone. Herself. After the disaster, her sense of belonging amongst people had fallen and morphed into an unbearable fear. And yet, she still longed for company. Too afraid to go near and too lonely to stay behind. Since she couldn't bear either extreme, she waited, and she watched, and she thought about people.

    It was a very happy medium.

    After a few moments a girl with a tail passed by, almost noticing that they all were being watched but not quite being able to. The-girl-the-villagers-doubted-really-existed watched her too, until she disappeared into the door.
  20. Mizuki would take the milk and fried fish she had ordered. It was a small order, obviously only costly enough for the measly amount of coin she held in her hands; a few silver in her palm as she jingled them in her grasp before sliding them over towards the waitress. She would bring the cool glass of milk up to her lips; allowing herself the pleasure of the sweet milky taste as she sighed with content; tail curling behind her and occasionally becoming tangled against the bars of the stool she sat at. She was clearly unaware of the gazing eyes of those which found her curious...Found each other curious...It was as if everyone at the bar was eying each other, besides Mizuki, who was clearly focused on the food before her.

    It wasn't often she got such a nice cooked meal and she was certain she would only enjoy it and worry of nothing else; pulling the white steaming meat apart from the fish bone and popping pieces into her mouth with her fork as she would chew and swallow; chest slightly vibrating with a soft and lulling purr that would escape her. Not a lot, but just as good as any meal she could have gotten, and she was quite happy with her choice in having come here to check things out. But then, half way into her meal, it was as if she began to feel the tension in the room between the group of people as they looked at each other...One man seeming to look at a note; his finger tracing over the sweetly scrawled letters.

    Mizuki was much too far away to see exactly what was written, but something on it must have caught his attention, for he seemed somewhat distressed suddenly as his eyes moved over the words...Nervously, her ears would pull back against her head; crimson hues taking a moment to examine the man with the letter...His pointed ears and long hair...She only vaguely knew of his kind. His kind was well known by her own, but isolated most of her life, she was at a loss for most affairs and was mostly never effected by it. Her purr, at that point, would have faded as she took the time to gaze around at the others too...The man with the worn clothes...The waitress...and...she just couldn't seem to shake an uneasy feeling...The feeling of another presence, nearby...Somewhere...But not clear to the eyes...

    Nervously, Mizuki would gulp; setting down her fork before the half eaten fish as she took another sip of her milk; licking at her lips as she set the glass down. The waitress seemed busy with the traveling man...And Mizuki couldn't help but find herself quite curious of the man with the letter. Despite the desire to finish her food, she would toss the left overs into a nearby trass; leaving the plate behind for the waitress to gather when she got the chance, along with the half-empty glass of milk.

    Slowly, and quite hesitantly, Mizuki would make her way towards the man where he sat; standing beside him now as she would take a moment to clear her throat...For both the fact that, in her nervous state, it felt dry, and to gather his attention. Her tail was between her legs; ears slightly drooped, though twitching on occasion any how to pick up the sounds around her. "Excuse me...Do you..mind if I join you?" She would ask; her voice soft and quite sweet sounding as she would force a gentle smile at her lips. There was something about this man that intrigued her...But she just couldn't put her finger on it...
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