We Were The Chosen Ones

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Manwad, Aug 25, 2015.

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  1. Oh the joys of the Dark Unicorn pub. It was quite the most lively of the pubs in all the kingdom, mainly due to its history. You see, here is where the heroes gathered to fight back the darkness that threatened to swamp this land. But alas, that was so long ago...

    "We were the chosen ones...
    Our armour was soaked in blood,
    We slayed the dragon!"

    That was the merry chantings of the very drunk man dressed in dark green. It was such a sad sight to see, formerly the best friend man of the one who lead their party to slay the evil, now the town drunk, albeit a bit more armed and dangerous.

    "We no longer live in fear,
    It's time to raised our glasses,
    We slayed the dragon!"

    No one joined him in his little salute to himself. He simply went back to drinking, not a care in the world. That was until the herald stormed into the pub, bringing grave news.

    "Everyone! Everyone listen! The darkness is returning, the dark lord has risen once more, he broke from his seal! We must fight back, who's willin-"

    The herald, despite bringing such grave news, was quickly shooed away by a guard, with him mumbling "Try the other pubs..."

    The Lancer was completely oblivious to this news, now at a barstool, face down on the counter, glass in his hand. He looked dead for all intents and purposes.

    There was another who entered the Dark Unicorn after the herald was shooed out. A familiar face...
  2. A woman who stood at about five foot three, with long wavy black hair and icy blue eyes walked into the pub. She wore a black hooded cloak over her fitting, floor length, blue dress. The dress was not one of those you would usually see a proper woman wearing. It wasn't frilly or fluffed out in the skirt, it was a simple, flowy dress with a V-neck line, yet not revealing enough to be considered inappropriate.
    Lillian lowered the hood of her cloak to reveal her flawless, but pale, face. She glanced around the pub for a moment, as if searching for someone. She had heard the news about the darkness returning, this news was her reason for coming to the pub. She noticed the man sitting on a barstool with his face in the counter and a glass in his hand, she chuckled softly, shook her head, and walked over to him. "Not done yet, are you?" she asked him with a smile on her face.
  3. He jumped when he heard that voice. Even in his drunken haze, he could recognise it from a mile away. Slowly his head rose to see where it came from. His glassy, green eyes widened in disbelief, but one thing plagued him when he saw her face. He couldn't exactly remember her name. A smile still came to him, framed with a full unkempt beard. "Hey, I'm not THAT drunk," he stated, looking into his empty glass. "Yet." The thick scent of ale covered him, betraying his heroic appearance, an olive green hooded cowl with runic symbols all down the soft fabric, resting over ornate leather armour.
  4. Jowan sat aloofly in a rickety seat at the back of the Dark Unicorn, trying to drown out the wretched cacophony of that worthless oaf with a glass of black wine. He swirled the cup gently, sighed wearily, and pushed his hair to the side. Though largely concealed by dark bangs, Jowan's face was as deathly as it was youthful. The herald would burst in shortly after, but Jowan wouldn't care to glance. The return of the Dark Lord was expected, he was, after all, one of the Lord's many clandestine servants. He was to keep an eye on the scant remains of what was once a band of heroes, to ensure they wouldn't attempt to resist the crusade of the great darkness. This particular target, an old friend of the leader, has abundantly shown through his recent behaviour to be no threat to his cause. Despite this, the old hero still had his weapons, and so Jowan's rapier remained at the ready, all but concealed by a dark purple shoulder cape.

    A mysterious hooded woman approached his query, an acquaintance perhaps? He didn't think much of her at first glance...
  5. The floorboards creaked painfully when a woman followed in shortly after the last entered. Deep crimson bangs framed a sharp, porcelain face whose bright emerald eyes scanned the pub as she made her way through. A small sigh broke through a pair of soft, pale pink lips as she realized she would have to find a new place to sit due to a man being seated in her most frequent spot in any establishment, the back. Her mind was quickly made up to simply sit at the next table over. She sprawled out her legs as soon as her lower back hit the back of the chair. She wore what looked like dark, tight fitting leathers with some pouches and places for gadgets and such. The woman searched around the room, not finding too much to her amusement. Finally she found it, or rather, him; the server. She lifted a gloved hand in his direction to get his attention, to which he nodded and headed in her direction.

    "Welcome to the Dark Unicorn, what can I get for you?" He said as if it were programmed into him. "Two reds." She replied simply as she loosed the fingertips of her gloves before slipping them off. "Sure thing, I'll be right back with it." He finished, to which she nodded. A bony elbow was placed on the table with the purpose to prop up her head. She crossed one leg over the other and her chin fell into her hand causing the loose, elegant bun that rested higher at the back of her head to shift slightly. The hovering foot began to bounce idly as she waited for the server to return with her drinks.
    #5 Zella, Aug 26, 2015
    Last edited by a moderator: Aug 26, 2015
  6. "Do not underestimate them."
    A distorted voice, deep then high, clear then raspy sounded in Jowan's head. There was suddenly a crow on his shoulder as well, as if he had walked in with it, digging its little claws into his shoulder. It looked at him with beady eyes, one of which had a scar running though, as if awaiting a response.

    The door was opened again, this time by rather tall fellow. Despite the hight, it was clear he was young, just broken out of his teens to be exact. He wore the ragged same ragged leather armor his mother did, but not her spirited look she always had. Nay, I'm afraid that Malo, son of Mali the Ranger, had nervous written all over him. His hand gripped the longbow slung around his body tightly, the other often twitched to the quiver strapped to his side. Malo made his way to the counter, taking a seat next to the Lancer's old friend. "I-Is it true? Is it true that the Dark Lord is back?"
  7. Lillian chuckled once more at the man's comment "I think you've had enough old friend" she told the man with a slightly raised eyebrow and took his glass. "We have things to talk about.. and I would prefer if I can still understand your words." she smirked. Her bright icy blue eyes glanced around the room, she caught sight of a strange man in the back of the room with a bird on his shoulder and a woman who looked rather interesting. She couldn't help but continue to look up at the strange man with the bird, something felt off about him. She decided to shrug it off, having more important things to worry about for the time being. She had been told to find The Lancer, and that while doing this there may be others, if she saw fit, that she would need to bring along as well. The girl in the corner seemed as though she may be one of those people. She looked back down at her friend then up at the man behind the counter "Could you get me something to sober him up a little?" she asked sweetly. The man behind the counter nodded and walked to the kitchen, returning with a class of dark liquid which he handed to The Lancer.
    A young boy, most likely just in his teens, sat next to Lillian asking about the Dark Lord's return. She turned to face him and placed a finger on her lips "quiet down." she told him. "It's not safe to talk about such things in a place like this" she explained, then glanced over at the man in the back again. She wasn't sure why she had looked at the man after telling the boy to be quiet, something just didn't seem right.
  8. The woman's head lifted from her hand only when she saw the server come back out from the back with what were obviously her drinks. He came over, gently placed one in front of her, but hesitated with the other, gesturing towards the seat across from her. "Waiting for someone, Miss?" He asked. "Perhaps." She replied with a grin before taking a sip of the drink in front of her. "You never know who will stop in." She finished, gesturing for him to place it down as though to set it up for another to join her. "Anything else I can get you?" He asked kindly. "Not yet, but I appreciate it." She replied with a smile as she leaned back in her chair, cup in hand.

    The crow and the newcomer both caught her attention. She moved her cup around and gyrated it around curiously as she stared into the crimson liquid, careful to look dull and focused on her drink, though her ears remained subtly attentive to the conversation which took place at the bar.
  9. Uaine the Lancer's eyes wandered, looking back at the red headed woman in black who had just entered. She looked like nothing out of the ordinary in his eyes, but the man in purple intrigued him. Even though all he saw was a blurry splotch of the royal colour with a dot of black, that alone uneased him. No royalty passed through these parts of the land, so why was he here? His head turned to the counter when another drink was served to him. He could sort of make out that it was pitch black, but didn't mind and took a sip of it.

    He noticed the effects of the sweet tasting drink immediately, his vision clearing up just enough to see the bow that was on the boy's back. That sight alone brought back a few fond memories and dread in equal parts. "Boy, where did you get that bow?"
  10. Jowan received one too many glances from the mysterious woman, and with an annoyed sigh, decided he would make an effort to blend in. I can handle myself, Muninn, he shot back at the raven without speaking a word. With that, he stood from the decrepit wooden chair, straightened his fine black vest and adjusted his shoulder cape. He gave one last hard glance in the direction of the bar before sitting down across from a sightly woman who'd just ordered a pair of drinks.

    "Mind if I intrude?", Jowan spoke, his voice was low and soft, though enigmatic and deliberate. His stark grey eyes locked in place, in an attempt to ensnare the brilliant emerald ones of the stranger before him. He hoped this would be enough to avoid rousing unwanted attention, though his desire to meet this crimson-haired creature was far from feign.
  11. The idle swirling of the woman's drink stopped when a chair behind her creaked, and the man who had been receiving so many glances from those at the bar was suddenly in front of her. She looked up from the shimmering sea of red in her cup, emerald eyes returning the gaze of the grey ones that were now before her. An eyebrow raised above the other one briefly, then she gestured her hand in a welcoming fashion. "Intrude away." She replied enchantingly, though her tone was lightly tinted with curiosity. Her gaze was interrupted only for a moment when her cup went in front of her face so she could take a sip before gently placing it back on the old, rickety wood table.

    She leaned a little to the side when she heard the doors of the pub open again, a couple of men entered, slurring about whatever nonsense their distorted minds deemed fit in their own company. Her foot stopped bouncing as she looked back at the man and propped both elbows up on the table, intertwined her fingers, then rested her chin on top. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" She inquired with a curious grin.
    #11 Zella, Aug 27, 2015
    Last edited by a moderator: Aug 27, 2015
  12. Sliding his seat forward, Jowan momentarily averted his gaze toward the unclaimed drink before him. Without asking, he helped himself to the cup of red liquid. Swirling the cup below his nose, he couldn't help feeling that the drink wasn't nearly dark enough for his taste, but took a generous sip in spite of this... His opinion of the girl before him was no different.

    Just as the cup made contact with the oak table, Jowan's eyes looked up to parallel her's once again. "No concerted reason, really", he began, "Just couldn't stand seeing a fawn like yourself all alone". He then gave a half-smile, perhaps a vaguely devious one, briefly exposing sharp canine teeth. The way he spoke would suggest he was speaking to a defenceless maiden, though he did well to take note of her padded leather armour, a tell-tale sign of a thief or rogue.

    From behind him, someone across the tavern fearfully spoke the words "Dark Lord". The ensuing whispering at the bar stifled any further discussion. It was good to hear the Lord's reputation doing its work on the minds of the townsfolk, helping to staunch unnecessary heroics (and in turn, unnecessary bloodshed).
    #12 Redsun_Criminal, Aug 27, 2015
    Last edited: Aug 27, 2015
  13. With a last tip of her cup she finished her drink, not by any means insulted by him assuming the other one as his own. She wasn't extraordinarily picky about what she drank, but preferred that it was made correctly. For instance, she often drank red because it was on most if not all menus and not expensive enough to be suspicious. But while she liked it to be the way it was supposed to be, a deep crimson color like a large amount of blood collected in a pool, but these were made with a color like watered down fruit punch. Disappointment definitely came with each sip, but it wasn't noticeable by any means. The establishment probably watered down some of their more popular drinks to make them last longer dye to lack of money, or the server simply grabbed the wrong bottle, whatever the case she wasn't known to make a scene, and in fact, wasn't even known by many.

    She tilted her head and blinked, her eyes lightly shadowed by long, elegant lashes. She couldn't help but smile, and even chuckle at his response. "I'm sure. Such a bold tongue on the dark, mysterious man in the corner." She teased, still keeping an ear out for the conversation that took place at the bar. Her attention turned to the male's teeth for a moment, an interesting feature that caused the grin to return to her lips.

    Her glance flickered over to the girl at the counter momentarily before it returned to the male. "I'm going to assume that's the reason you decided to reassign your choice of seating arrangement. As many times as I've seen her look at you, I'd sit with a stranger and spew flatteries as well." She returned in disbelief that her so called beauty was truly the man's opinion and motivation. "So what would you have one to call you, sir?" She inquired, not necessarily expecting his real name, but at least a moniker to put with the intriguing figure seated across from her. The same server caught the corner of her eye and she gestured him over, grabbing the two cups to hand to him. "Anything a little more.." She looked up for a moment, searching for a word, "Tasteful?" She said as her bright eyes shit back to him. He thought for a moment, nodded his head with a "Yes, Miss" then turned to the man, "The same?" He inquired before he returned to the back.
    #13 Zella, Aug 27, 2015
    Last edited by a moderator: Aug 27, 2015
  14. Being the son of a noble, Jowan never had much exposure to diluted or otherwise cheap wine. Since his father's "mysterious" death, he indulged himself in all sorts of local drinks, yet never finding one to compare with his father's old dark brand. It was one of the few things he missed from his adolescence, thinking back to the days where there was still such a thing as innocence.

    Jowan rubbed his eyes and sighed. "Unfortunately, you assume correctly. If you'd be so kind as to humour me for a while, I'd be more than happy to pay for your drinks", the tone of his voice became slightly more serious after being ousted, though it was still ever-calm. She certainly caught on quickly, it was surprising she even noticed the paranoid glances of the woman at the other side of the tavern. "I'm sure one of your apparent virtue would understand a thing or two about my predicament", he added, looking again to the pouches on her dark leather armour.

    He didn't see much of a need to withhold his true name, it could scarcely be traced to his shadowy organization. "Jowan", he stated plainly before sipping the squalid drink once more and looking aside, not caring to ask for her name. This was far from his first time at the Dark Unicorn, and despite his and Muninn's careful gaze, this particular woman had eluded him. Idly, he pushed a few of the dark strands in front of his face to the side.

    After posing his question, the waiter seemed to stiffen when his eyes met Jowan's. "I've had plenty for tonight... thanks", he then responded somewhat sternly, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the waiter's inexplicable fear.
  15. The voice had remained silent and Muinnin's gaze seemed to wander about idly as the conversation between his 'owner' and the strange little redhead. Owner wasn't true, the crow was created by Crim-sün the Apocalipt. He was the Dark Lord's right hand and the only being capable of reading the Bloody Prophecy, a vile tome that told of the awaiting future. Muinnin was brought into being to accompany Jowan as soon as he joined into the Dark Lord's servitude. However the bird was not bonded to the man's will, and his rather mischievous nature made this a problem quite a bit. "I assume your interest in her is solely caution? Test." The voice stated before the crow hopped off of Jowan's shoulder and onto the redheads.

    Malo quickly silenced himself at the woman's hush. "Sorry..." His mothers letters were a blank slate to him, a terrible fear of sudden assassination blurring his memory, he couldn't identify the woman at all. He did remember the man since he was the one his sister sent him to get. Uraine the Lancer, 'best drinker I've ever met' as his spirited mother wrote. "It was my mom's. You know, Mali? The Ranger? G-gave her life in the Final Battle?" The last sentence was tough to force out, even though it was true.

    Malo hurriedly removed the bow and the quiver that he only barely knew how to use, placing them both on the counter before the man. The war scarred armor was next, the young man pausing for a brief moment to examine it while it was in his hands before putting it down with the rest of his mother's old things. "My sister has message for you. But only if it's really true, and your certain about it." He said this in a very serious whisper, he was not about to send his sister off with a drunk and some strange lady as her leader if there was not point to it.
  16. "Hmm." She began to tap her finger thoughtfully. "Humour it is. Though my drinks are already settled, and small talk is not an interest of mine, you see., so you may have to do better than meaningless flattery." She continued. "Oh?" She inquired, "I've certainly suffered my share of.. 'predicaments', so it's fair to assume, I suppose." She scanned the room once more with a subtle gesrure of fixing her boot. A soft hum vibrated in her throat in response to the name. She quickly adjusted back into her seat and brushed a few stray wisps of hair from her face.

    The server quickly nodded his head as the rest of his body took on a stance close to rigimortis before hurrying off, causing the redhead to doubt a hasty return with the next drink, though it wasn't much of an issue considering it was just for show anyways. The crow that had caught her attention prior turned its head about it twitch like movements as most birds did, but it suddenly hopped from Jowan's shoulder to her own. The woman brushed the hair out of its way and turned her head to where she could get a better view. She lifted an outstretched index finger and gently pet at its neck and greeted it as if it were an old friend.

    "Such lovely creatures." She admired, not spending too much time on it, not wanting to irritate it. With a final gentle pet and after adjusted a couple feathers that were out of place, she put her hand back down on the table and leaned back in her seat, careful the the crow stayed comfortably perched where it was. "I suppose it would be appropriate to make the best of this time." She said, continuing to go unnoticed as she eavesdropped on the conversation that continued across the room, her eyebrow raising with some interest.
  17. The Lancer gently took the bow into his hands after the boy reminded him of that dreadful Final Battle. His gloved fingers carefully stroked the runic ash. "This... This was the bow that ended the Dark Lord. The bow that slayed more than some armies. From killing her first goblin to sealing an ancient evil." His voice dragged on with each feat named, remembering a small detail from each. Her gasp when the goblin stopped twitching and her last command to the group. Two great heroes were lost that day.

    He took a deep breath before letting go of the bow, giving the battle-worn armour a passing glance before setting his eyes on the boy once more. "What did your sister want to tell me?" He whispered back.
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