(may Roemello join?)
(I sent you a pm, Phoenix.)
((Sorry about going missing yall!))
The group rode quickly through the trees, heading towards the village without hesitation. Katja certainly wouldn't be prepared for the bandits to know they were arriving, but there was little they could do about that; if Merthyr died, she was certain the Kingdom would be after her head. And then she'd have to flee ANOTHER country. As they neared, they slowed, and Katja got off her horse, letting the archer take the reigns. It seemed that others were doing the same, and they lingered at the edge of the trees, out of sight for now. Katja looked nervous but her body language said she was confident; she didn't have any idea what they were up against. Drake caught up to her; "Well, are we ready to go?"
"Let the archers get into place. Our healer still needs to get his circle set up as well, patience Drake." She flipped down her visor, "We're not going to rush in, I will go forward and attempt to negotiate. If I don't return, you two will lead the men in. The objective is to get Merthyr out of the village safely."
"You're going in alone? Katja, I'm all for the whole noble hero sacrifice thing you're attempting but they may actually kill you, not to mention what could happen if they find out you're a woman." Drake folded his arms, "Let me go in there, I ca-"
"You're going to lash out at someone the moment they make you upset, Drake." She frowned, "I've got one more of those explosive elixirs I bought, if you hear it go off your job is to move in." Katja turned on her heel, and when she spoke again she had pitched her voice lower, to mask her gender, "Don't do anything stupid." And then, the Knight moved forward, walking towards the village. Her armor would of course signal she was a Knight, but she kept her hand away from her sword, walking straight and smooth into Aftbide.
"Damn woman, I suggest you watch your tongue," The demon growled, no longer looking entertained; despite his lack of vision, his blank eyes were fixated on Tye, "You're lucky I don't rip you limb from limb, most of my kind would have already done so. Prey like you are no fun to mess with, since small humans are so easy to break." He walked closer to Tye, "As for that fun little kiss, now you've given me a very wonderfully specific scent to follow, thanks for coming so close to me. If I wanted to I could follow you to the very ends of the earth and beyond that, shrimp."
He grinned, "But that's so unfriendly of me," He placed a hand on his shoulder, and his charming appearance was gone; this close, the spell couldn't be held up, and where Lwyncelyne would a harmless appearing demon, the more repulsive traits of Marcello's kind would be visible to Tye: his nails were black, sharp and pointed, his teeth jagged and twisted into a grin. His legs were beginning to look misshapen, and had he been walking, their deformed posture would've made it clear they too no longer shared his human characteristics, hoofed and appearing almost like a Clydesdale's hind legs.
Truthfully, he was uncomfortable so close to someone in this form; it was only a reminder of the demon he had been and the things he had done. But he wanted Tye gone, he wanted to scare him away, and he felt like this was the best way to do it, "Tell me Tye, have you ever flown? I could give you a ride, if you'd like," Nevermind his suggestive tone, the grip on Tye's shoulders had tightened, his wings spreading out.
The group rode quickly through the trees, heading towards the village without hesitation. Katja certainly wouldn't be prepared for the bandits to know they were arriving, but there was little they could do about that; if Merthyr died, she was certain the Kingdom would be after her head. And then she'd have to flee ANOTHER country. As they neared, they slowed, and Katja got off her horse, letting the archer take the reigns. It seemed that others were doing the same, and they lingered at the edge of the trees, out of sight for now. Katja looked nervous but her body language said she was confident; she didn't have any idea what they were up against. Drake caught up to her; "Well, are we ready to go?"
"Let the archers get into place. Our healer still needs to get his circle set up as well, patience Drake." She flipped down her visor, "We're not going to rush in, I will go forward and attempt to negotiate. If I don't return, you two will lead the men in. The objective is to get Merthyr out of the village safely."
"You're going in alone? Katja, I'm all for the whole noble hero sacrifice thing you're attempting but they may actually kill you, not to mention what could happen if they find out you're a woman." Drake folded his arms, "Let me go in there, I ca-"
"You're going to lash out at someone the moment they make you upset, Drake." She frowned, "I've got one more of those explosive elixirs I bought, if you hear it go off your job is to move in." Katja turned on her heel, and when she spoke again she had pitched her voice lower, to mask her gender, "Don't do anything stupid." And then, the Knight moved forward, walking towards the village. Her armor would of course signal she was a Knight, but she kept her hand away from her sword, walking straight and smooth into Aftbide.
"Damn woman, I suggest you watch your tongue," The demon growled, no longer looking entertained; despite his lack of vision, his blank eyes were fixated on Tye, "You're lucky I don't rip you limb from limb, most of my kind would have already done so. Prey like you are no fun to mess with, since small humans are so easy to break." He walked closer to Tye, "As for that fun little kiss, now you've given me a very wonderfully specific scent to follow, thanks for coming so close to me. If I wanted to I could follow you to the very ends of the earth and beyond that, shrimp."
He grinned, "But that's so unfriendly of me," He placed a hand on his shoulder, and his charming appearance was gone; this close, the spell couldn't be held up, and where Lwyncelyne would a harmless appearing demon, the more repulsive traits of Marcello's kind would be visible to Tye: his nails were black, sharp and pointed, his teeth jagged and twisted into a grin. His legs were beginning to look misshapen, and had he been walking, their deformed posture would've made it clear they too no longer shared his human characteristics, hoofed and appearing almost like a Clydesdale's hind legs.
Truthfully, he was uncomfortable so close to someone in this form; it was only a reminder of the demon he had been and the things he had done. But he wanted Tye gone, he wanted to scare him away, and he felt like this was the best way to do it, "Tell me Tye, have you ever flown? I could give you a ride, if you'd like," Nevermind his suggestive tone, the grip on Tye's shoulders had tightened, his wings spreading out.
As before, Faolan rode along with the militia as they approached the edge of the village. She cast about, interested in seeing the village now that it was day and simultaneously wary to the lack of villagers on the dirt roads. She watched as Katja and Drake spoke about their first plan, considering assistance but not wanting to double the risk Drake had mentioned. Beneath her the black horse chewed on its mouthpiece, shifting to one side as another horse brushed its nose against its flank curiously.
The village was humble but was still spread wide, and so it occurred to the warrior that fighting at its edge had its own hazards. Before the assault some of the locals tended to the woods as foresters; managing the density of the brush outside of town. In times of safety it was convenient but meant that the bandits might find the opportunity to flank them. Tara turned towards the militia around them, wondering if that was something the group was prepared for. Regardless of how the day went, there was still only a chance this would come to pass. It depended on how organized their foes truly were.
For the time being she decided to stay put.
_
Tye glanced again at Lwyncelyne and scowled, muttering, "I dunno which of y' pisses me off more..." When Marcello initially approached Tye he turned back to him and snorted. "Keep givin' me grief an' I won't stop either, china plate..."He was initially surprised by the transformation but didn't seem to get the hint Marcello hoped for. His eyes widened as he stared up at his demonic features- specifically the jagged teeth- but with fascination rather than fear.
The boy's nostrils flared as the cambion's grip tightened on his shoulder. "Nah, n' I think I'll pass. Custard doesn' catch air very well." The frustratingly stubborn thief drew something suddenly from a hidden pocket, stretching it up toward Esposito's face.
Though the nature of his movements might make it seem as though it were a weapon or poison, in truth it was much more mediocre. Though Marcello couldn't see, he'd certainly smell the unmistakable stench of used sock. (Assuming Tye even got that far.)
_
Kerik cried out when the explosion took place, more startled than pained by anything though the bandit could feel heat rippling through the air around him. As the spectacle subsided he looked around, feeling faint but too strained to focus on anything besides potential escape. The captured brigand looked down, eyeing the purple flame which licked at the wild grass with apprehension. The brigand turned in his cot and reached for his bound hand with the other, recently injured one.
To the bandit's dismay, trying to even touch the binds was a challenge since blood had not fully returned to the limb; it felt as if he were flailing at something with a large sausage rather than a fully developed limb. It didn't stop him from trying, though, and once his hand settled on his opposite wrist he fumbled to try and untie the knot.
_
Grum pulled Merthyr along, snapping, "We're bandits, fool. Do not expect honorable foes here." The chieftain chuckled as Atoli replied to the dispirited king and let her go with the objects, expecting her not to destroy them immediately but enjoying the illusion that she might; it seemed to humble his captive even more.
In Aftbide, the jails were located within the barracks; the cell count was limited and most of the criminals held there normally had been released. In their place were crowds of people, young and old. It was not long before the assassin king would see it- down a short hall and through a few doors were steps leading down into the prison, something the minotaur passed through easily and rather quickly. "I hope you will be able to think long and hard about your stay here, prince." the chieftain rumbled.
The site that awaited them was overwhelming; in part through the inhumanity of the captives' conditions- dozens of people pushed into each cell until there wasn't even room to lie down, of all ages- and partly by the smell. Since the raid, the doors of the cells had seldom swung and the villagers could not wait so long to relieve themselves. Most were gaunt with starvation, some sobbing, others pushing through their own crowds to rage at the bars, at Grum. Their voices echoed through the chambers loudly:
"You did this! You did this!"
"My daughter, where is she?! Where is my daughter?!"
"Please just make it stop!"
"I will do anything for you! Let me out!"
The minotaur belted, "SHUT UP!" and the room grew silent, spare the few who couldn't help but keep crying.
The chieftain directed the king to one such cell, somewhat more sparse than the rest but also a lot smaller; a holding cell for those who weren't expected to stay long. "It doesn't matter how good you think you've done. For each political game your kind plays, there is another barracks' worth of deaths, of which you will be responsible for." Grum spat. "That's the price of leadership. A price a little twerp like you will never be capable of handling."
A key was produced by the minotaur; he unlocked the cell and moved to push Merthyr inside. If successful, he'd close the door behind him and lock it.
Outside the bandits would (mostly) obey the orders given by the harpy; they didn't know of the militia's approach until they'd all but arrived. In response a horn was blown from within the village, though no immediate harm came to the gathering of people outside. Instead, those already rallied gathered near the edge those militia approached from, watching as Katja approached.
One bandit ran for the barracks to inform the chieftain but would take a moment before he reached Grum.
The village was humble but was still spread wide, and so it occurred to the warrior that fighting at its edge had its own hazards. Before the assault some of the locals tended to the woods as foresters; managing the density of the brush outside of town. In times of safety it was convenient but meant that the bandits might find the opportunity to flank them. Tara turned towards the militia around them, wondering if that was something the group was prepared for. Regardless of how the day went, there was still only a chance this would come to pass. It depended on how organized their foes truly were.
For the time being she decided to stay put.
_
Tye glanced again at Lwyncelyne and scowled, muttering, "I dunno which of y' pisses me off more..." When Marcello initially approached Tye he turned back to him and snorted. "Keep givin' me grief an' I won't stop either, china plate..."He was initially surprised by the transformation but didn't seem to get the hint Marcello hoped for. His eyes widened as he stared up at his demonic features- specifically the jagged teeth- but with fascination rather than fear.
The boy's nostrils flared as the cambion's grip tightened on his shoulder. "Nah, n' I think I'll pass. Custard doesn' catch air very well." The frustratingly stubborn thief drew something suddenly from a hidden pocket, stretching it up toward Esposito's face.
Though the nature of his movements might make it seem as though it were a weapon or poison, in truth it was much more mediocre. Though Marcello couldn't see, he'd certainly smell the unmistakable stench of used sock. (Assuming Tye even got that far.)
_
Kerik cried out when the explosion took place, more startled than pained by anything though the bandit could feel heat rippling through the air around him. As the spectacle subsided he looked around, feeling faint but too strained to focus on anything besides potential escape. The captured brigand looked down, eyeing the purple flame which licked at the wild grass with apprehension. The brigand turned in his cot and reached for his bound hand with the other, recently injured one.
To the bandit's dismay, trying to even touch the binds was a challenge since blood had not fully returned to the limb; it felt as if he were flailing at something with a large sausage rather than a fully developed limb. It didn't stop him from trying, though, and once his hand settled on his opposite wrist he fumbled to try and untie the knot.
_
Grum pulled Merthyr along, snapping, "We're bandits, fool. Do not expect honorable foes here." The chieftain chuckled as Atoli replied to the dispirited king and let her go with the objects, expecting her not to destroy them immediately but enjoying the illusion that she might; it seemed to humble his captive even more.
In Aftbide, the jails were located within the barracks; the cell count was limited and most of the criminals held there normally had been released. In their place were crowds of people, young and old. It was not long before the assassin king would see it- down a short hall and through a few doors were steps leading down into the prison, something the minotaur passed through easily and rather quickly. "I hope you will be able to think long and hard about your stay here, prince." the chieftain rumbled.
The site that awaited them was overwhelming; in part through the inhumanity of the captives' conditions- dozens of people pushed into each cell until there wasn't even room to lie down, of all ages- and partly by the smell. Since the raid, the doors of the cells had seldom swung and the villagers could not wait so long to relieve themselves. Most were gaunt with starvation, some sobbing, others pushing through their own crowds to rage at the bars, at Grum. Their voices echoed through the chambers loudly:
"You did this! You did this!"
"My daughter, where is she?! Where is my daughter?!"
"Please just make it stop!"
"I will do anything for you! Let me out!"
The minotaur belted, "SHUT UP!" and the room grew silent, spare the few who couldn't help but keep crying.
The chieftain directed the king to one such cell, somewhat more sparse than the rest but also a lot smaller; a holding cell for those who weren't expected to stay long. "It doesn't matter how good you think you've done. For each political game your kind plays, there is another barracks' worth of deaths, of which you will be responsible for." Grum spat. "That's the price of leadership. A price a little twerp like you will never be capable of handling."
A key was produced by the minotaur; he unlocked the cell and moved to push Merthyr inside. If successful, he'd close the door behind him and lock it.
Outside the bandits would (mostly) obey the orders given by the harpy; they didn't know of the militia's approach until they'd all but arrived. In response a horn was blown from within the village, though no immediate harm came to the gathering of people outside. Instead, those already rallied gathered near the edge those militia approached from, watching as Katja approached.
One bandit ran for the barracks to inform the chieftain but would take a moment before he reached Grum.
Merthyr frowned deeply at the deplorable sight before his eyes. His contempt building up at the appalling conditions the villagers were kept in, fuelled by Grum's comment, but he kept his head lowered and held his peace.
He watched Grum open the door to the cell and willingly stepped inside, slamming the barred door shut of his own accord. Quickly locking the door himself to retain the key, his trained fingers making light work of stealing that key. He leaned standing against the wall, a foot resting against it whilst holding the key tightly, arms crossed along the chest patiently if resigned. He remained silent a few long moments, noting the grim surrounding of evident dispair the villagers sported which made him yield all the more so, out of pity if anything else. His tone remained as humble and submissive as when he had surrendered, more so now that he had a good understanding of the dire situation.
"Grum, I beg you, allow these villagers food, water, and at least some spare buckets they can relieve themselves with. Please... grant me ways to earn them better living conditions... I will repay you with my submission now and reward you in gold later on. If not for the sake of honor, for the sake of riches" petitioned Merthyr in a far more grovelling tone, a hand gripping the iron bar as he spoke. His eyes drifted briefly towards the entrance and he pursed his lips with an inquisitive look at the guard who came in with haste seeking Grum
(editted)
Lwyncelyne pressed a fist to her hip. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, sir, taking flight is risky. These woods are festering with bandits and gypsies, surely you are aware your white limbs are priceless and the key ingredient to make elixir of youth, elixir of healing and craft wealth charms?" quizzed Lwyncelyne bluntly shaking her head
"Not that I would make them myself but you might want to consider your safety at some point. Good day to you sirs... I will be inside, if you require my services" dismissed Lwyncelyne clearly offended at both their tone and manner of addressing the high born lady
Taff frowned at Kerik shaking his head at the effort.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you...you might end up just tightening the ropes more and simply making it worse" pointed out Taff calmly going quiet after he had taken a good look at the new form the lich sported
He watched Grum open the door to the cell and willingly stepped inside, slamming the barred door shut of his own accord. Quickly locking the door himself to retain the key, his trained fingers making light work of stealing that key. He leaned standing against the wall, a foot resting against it whilst holding the key tightly, arms crossed along the chest patiently if resigned. He remained silent a few long moments, noting the grim surrounding of evident dispair the villagers sported which made him yield all the more so, out of pity if anything else. His tone remained as humble and submissive as when he had surrendered, more so now that he had a good understanding of the dire situation.
"Grum, I beg you, allow these villagers food, water, and at least some spare buckets they can relieve themselves with. Please... grant me ways to earn them better living conditions... I will repay you with my submission now and reward you in gold later on. If not for the sake of honor, for the sake of riches" petitioned Merthyr in a far more grovelling tone, a hand gripping the iron bar as he spoke. His eyes drifted briefly towards the entrance and he pursed his lips with an inquisitive look at the guard who came in with haste seeking Grum
(editted)
Lwyncelyne pressed a fist to her hip. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, sir, taking flight is risky. These woods are festering with bandits and gypsies, surely you are aware your white limbs are priceless and the key ingredient to make elixir of youth, elixir of healing and craft wealth charms?" quizzed Lwyncelyne bluntly shaking her head
"Not that I would make them myself but you might want to consider your safety at some point. Good day to you sirs... I will be inside, if you require my services" dismissed Lwyncelyne clearly offended at both their tone and manner of addressing the high born lady
Taff frowned at Kerik shaking his head at the effort.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you...you might end up just tightening the ropes more and simply making it worse" pointed out Taff calmly going quiet after he had taken a good look at the new form the lich sported
As Atoli waited outside the barracks the sound of the horn trumpeted it’s warning from the town; it seems the fight had come to them first… Atoli straightened and turned to look in the direction of the noise, cursing under her breath and muttering “Great…” She spotted one of Grum’s henchmen running up to the fortified building in which she sat on and entered through the door… likely to tell the Chieftain no doubt.
The harpy stayed put on the wall; preferring her vantage point should any intruders appear. Escape would be easier for a creature like her when she was in the open than in a closed in fortress… And there was no way she was going to be fighting a bunch of knights. Her talent was in scouting, stealing… and fleeing… Atoli glanced down at the Prince's satchel, wondering how much its contents were worth if she had to flee the area.
She bent her arm back awkwardly and tried to touch the scrape on her back from before, the blood had dried and was caked onto the feathers there, and had become itchy and throbbed with pain whenever we bent or straightened her spine.
“How did that stunted human possibly catch me…” She muttered indignantly, and glanced around a little nervously. That horn was a signal for intruders, and the harpy was weary for any sign of danger now more than ever.
The harpy stayed put on the wall; preferring her vantage point should any intruders appear. Escape would be easier for a creature like her when she was in the open than in a closed in fortress… And there was no way she was going to be fighting a bunch of knights. Her talent was in scouting, stealing… and fleeing… Atoli glanced down at the Prince's satchel, wondering how much its contents were worth if she had to flee the area.
She bent her arm back awkwardly and tried to touch the scrape on her back from before, the blood had dried and was caked onto the feathers there, and had become itchy and throbbed with pain whenever we bent or straightened her spine.
“How did that stunted human possibly catch me…” She muttered indignantly, and glanced around a little nervously. That horn was a signal for intruders, and the harpy was weary for any sign of danger now more than ever.
Tom looked around at the people nearby and gave them a huge grin, turning the unblinking gaze to the few left to see the transformation. "Oh yes, people. Hello! I almost forgot there we're others here you know with the whole changing body and explosions and stuff."
The eyes slowly focused on Kerik, locking on fixing the man in their sights. "Ah Kerik! Let me fulfill my half of the promise."
Raising a hand, Tom focused and with a crackle of sparks a jolt of purple lightening shot from his palm and was sent wildly crashing into the ground. The shock making the hybrid stumble and take an unsteady step backwards. "Sorry" it spoke apologetically, then contained with cheery optimism "I'm not entirely used to this body, next shot should get the ropes though."
The eyes slowly focused on Kerik, locking on fixing the man in their sights. "Ah Kerik! Let me fulfill my half of the promise."
Raising a hand, Tom focused and with a crackle of sparks a jolt of purple lightening shot from his palm and was sent wildly crashing into the ground. The shock making the hybrid stumble and take an unsteady step backwards. "Sorry" it spoke apologetically, then contained with cheery optimism "I'm not entirely used to this body, next shot should get the ropes though."
"I wish to speak to the leader of your clan," She called firmly, "I am Sir Sauer of the Knights of the People." The way she pitched her voice, mixed with the heavy armor and helmet, made it easy to believe she was a man, "I mean no trouble as things are now." She stayed at a safe distance, sweeping over the crowd the best she could with the limited visibility of the helmet.
Around the outskirts of the village, the archers had begun sliding into place, fully prepared for Katja's signal.
"Ah, I should've told her about the Cheiftan of the bandits." Drake spoke as if this was an insignificant afterthought, "That young child, Tom, got the information out of Kerik for us."
With Lwyncelyne's nagging and now Tye's move with the sock, the cambion looked fed up with just about everything. He smacked Tye's hand away, "Damned human, you're lucky she's right. If it wouldn't risk my life I'd dump you on the highest tree here," Not like he'd be able to tell which tree that was but he could make a good guess, "Next time, remember your place, armrest."
Marcello took a few steps back, his tail sweeping the forest floor; when it brushed his cloak he bent down to pick it up, brushing off the leaves to the best of his ability and holding it in his arms. If he focused hard enough, he could still faintly pick out the scent of the harpy... he would have to thank her for her kindness in not mauling him. Besides, she had said from one monster to another... that could mean he could have a chance to learn about her kind.
The cambion's wings began to beat slowly, sending what first began as small gusts of wind, but as he picked up speed and got off the ground, they made the branches of nearby trees rustle and leaves scattered with the force they generated. And then he shot off into the air, in an attempt to go find the strange creature.
Around the outskirts of the village, the archers had begun sliding into place, fully prepared for Katja's signal.
"Ah, I should've told her about the Cheiftan of the bandits." Drake spoke as if this was an insignificant afterthought, "That young child, Tom, got the information out of Kerik for us."
With Lwyncelyne's nagging and now Tye's move with the sock, the cambion looked fed up with just about everything. He smacked Tye's hand away, "Damned human, you're lucky she's right. If it wouldn't risk my life I'd dump you on the highest tree here," Not like he'd be able to tell which tree that was but he could make a good guess, "Next time, remember your place, armrest."
Marcello took a few steps back, his tail sweeping the forest floor; when it brushed his cloak he bent down to pick it up, brushing off the leaves to the best of his ability and holding it in his arms. If he focused hard enough, he could still faintly pick out the scent of the harpy... he would have to thank her for her kindness in not mauling him. Besides, she had said from one monster to another... that could mean he could have a chance to learn about her kind.
The cambion's wings began to beat slowly, sending what first began as small gusts of wind, but as he picked up speed and got off the ground, they made the branches of nearby trees rustle and leaves scattered with the force they generated. And then he shot off into the air, in an attempt to go find the strange creature.
Tara adjusted her rip on the reins as Drake commented on the chieftain. She furrowed her brow at it, not expecting the half orc to answer honestly but resolving to ask about it anyway. "The child interrogated him? ...How?" The relative quiet of the wood and the soft words shared amongst the troops stood in contrast to what the warrior imagined may happen next. It reminded her of the night before, when the silence had her fooled.
_
Tye was relieved to see Lwyncelyne depart but kept on his plan of intentionally poking the metaphorical bear. It was true that if Marcello were to actually take him to the canopy the thief would be anything but happy but he thought an annoying approach was less likely to end in disaster. His laughter was still genuine when his hand was smacked away and the cambion snapped at him once again.
He watched as Marcello started to leave and replaced the disgusting sock. The thief was similarly fed up with the camp and so did not pursue but wasn't done speaking either. He called, "Sure thing, tallow! Nice teeth, by the way!" These mock names were getting hard to think of so it was just as well.
_
Kerik paused in his fumbling to glance at Taff but didn't heed his words; the bandit would have retorted but he only wanted to devote energy on one thing. That was, until the lich turned his attention back to him (at that point he was convinced he'd been forgotten!) Part of the brigand hoped that was the case, considering the spectacle that just happened.
But it was not to be. He moved his hand away from the rope and stared at Tom, squeezing his eyes shut as he cast his first spell. Then he cried out, "Wait!"
The bandit hesitated and then reached up, sloppily back at the rope. "...Why not just... untie it normally?" He smiled nervously.
_
The bandits on the edge watched the knight warily; none initially moved to reply but one man, a brute with black hair stepped out from the crowd. "He's been sent for." The stranger rumbled. It would be some time before the chieftain showed himself.
Meanwhile, Grum scowled as Merthyr snatched the key from his hand. "And just what were you trying to achieve with that?" The king made his plea but the minotaur seemed nonplussed. "Ugh! In retrospect I'm surprised I couldn't see your 'princely charm'!"
Seemingly deaf to the suffering around him, Grum pushed into one of the cells and wrested manacles from the narrow wrists of a prisoner. He threw the captive to the floor after unbinding him with a separate key and returned to the king's cell. Then he wrapped the chains of the manacles around the bars connecting the gate and wall, creating a new, if unconventional lock to keep the man inside.
"If I didn't think your ransom was worth it, you'd be dying, strung up in the center of town by your guts."
"Sir." The messenger bandit began.
The minotaur walked away from the cell, keen not to allow Merthyr to snatch the second key. "What is it?"
"Its the militia. They're here."
The chieftain groaned and walked past the newcomer. "I will deal with them. You stay here and make sure that worm doesn't try to crawl out of his cell."
"Aye, chieftain."
It was a moment of running but Grum found the gathering of curious men and slowed to a halt, towering over most of them as he made his way through the crowd. The black haired brute stepped aside for the minotaur; he glowered down at the eyes of her bascinet. "I am chieftain Grum. I speak for this clan. And you will be dead by tonight if you don't have a good offer for me."
_
Tye was relieved to see Lwyncelyne depart but kept on his plan of intentionally poking the metaphorical bear. It was true that if Marcello were to actually take him to the canopy the thief would be anything but happy but he thought an annoying approach was less likely to end in disaster. His laughter was still genuine when his hand was smacked away and the cambion snapped at him once again.
He watched as Marcello started to leave and replaced the disgusting sock. The thief was similarly fed up with the camp and so did not pursue but wasn't done speaking either. He called, "Sure thing, tallow! Nice teeth, by the way!" These mock names were getting hard to think of so it was just as well.
_
Kerik paused in his fumbling to glance at Taff but didn't heed his words; the bandit would have retorted but he only wanted to devote energy on one thing. That was, until the lich turned his attention back to him (at that point he was convinced he'd been forgotten!) Part of the brigand hoped that was the case, considering the spectacle that just happened.
But it was not to be. He moved his hand away from the rope and stared at Tom, squeezing his eyes shut as he cast his first spell. Then he cried out, "Wait!"
The bandit hesitated and then reached up, sloppily back at the rope. "...Why not just... untie it normally?" He smiled nervously.
_
The bandits on the edge watched the knight warily; none initially moved to reply but one man, a brute with black hair stepped out from the crowd. "He's been sent for." The stranger rumbled. It would be some time before the chieftain showed himself.
Meanwhile, Grum scowled as Merthyr snatched the key from his hand. "And just what were you trying to achieve with that?" The king made his plea but the minotaur seemed nonplussed. "Ugh! In retrospect I'm surprised I couldn't see your 'princely charm'!"
Seemingly deaf to the suffering around him, Grum pushed into one of the cells and wrested manacles from the narrow wrists of a prisoner. He threw the captive to the floor after unbinding him with a separate key and returned to the king's cell. Then he wrapped the chains of the manacles around the bars connecting the gate and wall, creating a new, if unconventional lock to keep the man inside.
"If I didn't think your ransom was worth it, you'd be dying, strung up in the center of town by your guts."
"Sir." The messenger bandit began.
The minotaur walked away from the cell, keen not to allow Merthyr to snatch the second key. "What is it?"
"Its the militia. They're here."
The chieftain groaned and walked past the newcomer. "I will deal with them. You stay here and make sure that worm doesn't try to crawl out of his cell."
"Aye, chieftain."
It was a moment of running but Grum found the gathering of curious men and slowed to a halt, towering over most of them as he made his way through the crowd. The black haired brute stepped aside for the minotaur; he glowered down at the eyes of her bascinet. "I am chieftain Grum. I speak for this clan. And you will be dead by tonight if you don't have a good offer for me."
"Good luck" muttered Taff wondering if the thug would be charred in the next attempt which would make for an unpleasant sight walking away to look for the albino instead.
Lwyncelyne came over flushed as soon as she noticed Taff "The boy is a thief and at times passionate with the albino to a kissing point and at times at each other's throats, inappropriate at all times all the same" huffed Lwyncelyne
"Where's the blind albino?" Quizzed Taff
"Well... he left... he had wings and he flew away... that way towards the village" informed Lwyncelyne
"Oh my giddy aunt, we better go and get him back before he runs into trouble. The boy was a lich who has grown into a young man thus doesn't need your motherly attention, didn't seem a thief to me or a loving type though but who knows, my lady..." noted Taff.
"Why couldn't they just sit tight for a day or two... " grumbled Taff unhappily to have to go into unknown danger because of the demon, he briefly came back to the tent, rushing to grab his bag and make his way to the village to find Marcello.
"Lady Lwyncelyne could you go back to the castle at once? Once there, inform lord Tron Pentre to summon the army, all men's at arms, make him aware that the king's life is in danger and time is of essence" instructed Taff parting ways, he would go to town while she would get backup.
Lwyncelyne nodded in agreement, willing to inform lord Pentre of all she had learned, thus hurriedly started her journey.
Taff watched her leave and once out of sight he returned to Kerik, if he was set free Taff would follow him certain the man would know the way quicker than Taff could
Merthyr sighed still holding onto the key and watched Grum leave, rather disheartened that his plea had fallen on deaf ears but kept quiet. All he could do was to wait for the chieftain to return, if he cared to do so, not bothered to hear that the militia was nearby since these two groups were operating outside the law.
As far as he was concerned he wanted no part or dealings with neither the militia called knights of the people nor the bandits that had taken over this forsaken town
He turned his attention to the villagers in his cell. "Have you been held here long?" Asked Merthyr going quieter as the new guard was appointed making any chance to get relief for these prisoners all the more difficult for the man lacked authority
Merthyr came over to the bars looking at the odd locking mechanism, staring at the chain end to end and visually examining the lock itself rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He would need something thin, long and made of metal to pick the lock open, fortunately, shackles were so much easier to do than solid doors. He could use the extended pin in his belt buckle to pick it open but he'd need the timing and opportunity and such an escape would endanger the peasants further thus he leaned back to wait patiently to think about it.
In the meantime, he came close to the window considering the next best point of contact, the bird-woman whom Grum seemed to indulge in and give more authority to than the rest
"Lady Atoli! Are you out there still? Could you grant me the grace and favour of a visit and audience, my lady?" Asked Merthyr loudly not caring that the entire town heard, uninterested in his freedom or his belongings rather focused on getting some respite for the prisoners
Lwyncelyne came over flushed as soon as she noticed Taff "The boy is a thief and at times passionate with the albino to a kissing point and at times at each other's throats, inappropriate at all times all the same" huffed Lwyncelyne
"Where's the blind albino?" Quizzed Taff
"Well... he left... he had wings and he flew away... that way towards the village" informed Lwyncelyne
"Oh my giddy aunt, we better go and get him back before he runs into trouble. The boy was a lich who has grown into a young man thus doesn't need your motherly attention, didn't seem a thief to me or a loving type though but who knows, my lady..." noted Taff.
"Why couldn't they just sit tight for a day or two... " grumbled Taff unhappily to have to go into unknown danger because of the demon, he briefly came back to the tent, rushing to grab his bag and make his way to the village to find Marcello.
"Lady Lwyncelyne could you go back to the castle at once? Once there, inform lord Tron Pentre to summon the army, all men's at arms, make him aware that the king's life is in danger and time is of essence" instructed Taff parting ways, he would go to town while she would get backup.
Lwyncelyne nodded in agreement, willing to inform lord Pentre of all she had learned, thus hurriedly started her journey.
Taff watched her leave and once out of sight he returned to Kerik, if he was set free Taff would follow him certain the man would know the way quicker than Taff could
Merthyr sighed still holding onto the key and watched Grum leave, rather disheartened that his plea had fallen on deaf ears but kept quiet. All he could do was to wait for the chieftain to return, if he cared to do so, not bothered to hear that the militia was nearby since these two groups were operating outside the law.
As far as he was concerned he wanted no part or dealings with neither the militia called knights of the people nor the bandits that had taken over this forsaken town
He turned his attention to the villagers in his cell. "Have you been held here long?" Asked Merthyr going quieter as the new guard was appointed making any chance to get relief for these prisoners all the more difficult for the man lacked authority
Merthyr came over to the bars looking at the odd locking mechanism, staring at the chain end to end and visually examining the lock itself rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He would need something thin, long and made of metal to pick the lock open, fortunately, shackles were so much easier to do than solid doors. He could use the extended pin in his belt buckle to pick it open but he'd need the timing and opportunity and such an escape would endanger the peasants further thus he leaned back to wait patiently to think about it.
In the meantime, he came close to the window considering the next best point of contact, the bird-woman whom Grum seemed to indulge in and give more authority to than the rest
"Lady Atoli! Are you out there still? Could you grant me the grace and favour of a visit and audience, my lady?" Asked Merthyr loudly not caring that the entire town heard, uninterested in his freedom or his belongings rather focused on getting some respite for the prisoners
"Unite it normally?" The hybrid smirked, the mouth opening up to reveal a set of perfect teeth. "With all this new power surging through my body? I think not, not using it would be a direct offence to actually having to go through this transformation. Although....."
There was a momentary pause as the being stroked its chin in a contemplative way, before looking back up at the bound man. "I could do it in different ways to just simply blasting it. I could raise undead to untie it, use dark tendrils to, burn it with or a host of different options... so what shall it be?"
A moment of silence as an expectant gaze was offered towards Kerik.
There was a momentary pause as the being stroked its chin in a contemplative way, before looking back up at the bound man. "I could do it in different ways to just simply blasting it. I could raise undead to untie it, use dark tendrils to, burn it with or a host of different options... so what shall it be?"
A moment of silence as an expectant gaze was offered towards Kerik.
The harpy watched as Grum exited the building and ran off towards the group of people that were gathering in the town. She hummed as she weighed out her options for a moment. Since the chieftain did not call out to her, the harpy thief felt she could stay where she was and watch the drama unfold from her vantage point.
Atoli began to rifle through the prince’s belongings, and after ignoring the other more valuable looking contents, took out a leather-bound journal. She idly flipped through the pages for a moment and glanced over the scribbles of writing (she could not read and didn't bother to try) and searched for pictures or drawings until a shout from below drew her attention.
She tossed the book back into the bag and swung her long avian legs out to let them dangle from the ledge of where she sat. “I am!” She called back to the prince. “And nay!-“ She put on an especially pompous tone to her voice, not unlike Methyr’s own when he was making his demands before.
“-Lady Atoli is much too busy, and noble men have absolutely no place in my presence.” She mimed the words he had spoke to her before in mocking, having not forgotten his dismissive comment about women and chickens earlier.
Atoli was looking down in the direction of where the prince’s voice came from until her feathers began to rise instinctively, sensing something approach. She looked skyward then and scanned the edge of the tree line. It didn’t take long for her spot something humanoid flying over the trees and towards her. The little thief’s stomach did an odd flip flop feeling as she watched it approach. She did not yet recognize that it was the blind boy from before.
Atoli began to rifle through the prince’s belongings, and after ignoring the other more valuable looking contents, took out a leather-bound journal. She idly flipped through the pages for a moment and glanced over the scribbles of writing (she could not read and didn't bother to try) and searched for pictures or drawings until a shout from below drew her attention.
She tossed the book back into the bag and swung her long avian legs out to let them dangle from the ledge of where she sat. “I am!” She called back to the prince. “And nay!-“ She put on an especially pompous tone to her voice, not unlike Methyr’s own when he was making his demands before.
“-Lady Atoli is much too busy, and noble men have absolutely no place in my presence.” She mimed the words he had spoke to her before in mocking, having not forgotten his dismissive comment about women and chickens earlier.
Atoli was looking down in the direction of where the prince’s voice came from until her feathers began to rise instinctively, sensing something approach. She looked skyward then and scanned the edge of the tree line. It didn’t take long for her spot something humanoid flying over the trees and towards her. The little thief’s stomach did an odd flip flop feeling as she watched it approach. She did not yet recognize that it was the blind boy from before.
Drake chuckled, in an oddly pleased manner, "Well, it seems the little thing harbors a demon in his body, shares with it. Possibly, the thing grants him power." His eyes, however, trailed up to the sky, and he watched the demon fly near the village, "Ah...that's that kid, isn't it?"
Her chuckle would already give him her answer; it was mocking, but the effort she took to mask her voice could be detected if Grum truly bothered to listen, "I have no deal for you; this town is under protection of the Knights of the People as of this moment on, and any further ill-behavior will result in swift and merciless punishment." Her voice was casual as she spoke, and she even shrugged a bit; but now her gloved hand rested on her sword, her eyes only barely visible through the slots in her helmet, "So I'll ask kindly, just this once, that you and your band leave Aftbide. I hear there's a bandit clan to the North, Onyx, with a female leader. Go fight amongst them, as criminals do. Fighting me and my men will only result in your downfall." It was gutsy to face the leader as she was, with her backup at least a good two minutes distance. She could easily be killed with this many bandits so close, so it could be inferred that, to them, she seemed to have a plan.
He sniffed at the air, and then dove down into the town, landing smoothly on the roof of the tavern. Marcello could only faintly recognize the scent of the village; locations were much harder to identify. Still, if he focused, he could smell the chalky feathers in the air, much stronger than that of a regular sized bird, and again he leapt away from the roof, headed towards Atoli, "Miss Harpy! Where are you?!"
Her chuckle would already give him her answer; it was mocking, but the effort she took to mask her voice could be detected if Grum truly bothered to listen, "I have no deal for you; this town is under protection of the Knights of the People as of this moment on, and any further ill-behavior will result in swift and merciless punishment." Her voice was casual as she spoke, and she even shrugged a bit; but now her gloved hand rested on her sword, her eyes only barely visible through the slots in her helmet, "So I'll ask kindly, just this once, that you and your band leave Aftbide. I hear there's a bandit clan to the North, Onyx, with a female leader. Go fight amongst them, as criminals do. Fighting me and my men will only result in your downfall." It was gutsy to face the leader as she was, with her backup at least a good two minutes distance. She could easily be killed with this many bandits so close, so it could be inferred that, to them, she seemed to have a plan.
He sniffed at the air, and then dove down into the town, landing smoothly on the roof of the tavern. Marcello could only faintly recognize the scent of the village; locations were much harder to identify. Still, if he focused, he could smell the chalky feathers in the air, much stronger than that of a regular sized bird, and again he leapt away from the roof, headed towards Atoli, "Miss Harpy! Where are you?!"
Tara's shoulders lifted a bit as Drake informed her of Tom's identity. She wasn't entirely sure whether to be bothered or impressed; it would be contrary to her prior actions to think the boy condemnable for his identity. Still, the warrior disliked the elusive nature of it and made a note to practice wariness until she knew more first hand. "...Odd."
The half-orc's question drew her eyes skyward, eventually catching to the sight of Marcello drifting into the air above the village. Her grip on the reins tightened but soon after relaxed. It seemed needlessly reckless of the cambion to swoop in but he was a grown man; perhaps she and the knights hadn't given him enough credit. Thoughts drifted to the night before that cast doubt upon her vote of confidence but for the moment Faolan decided to let it be. Things were likely about to get hectic anyway.
"Aye, I think so." she replied, absent-minded.
_
Grum's bovine snout wrinkled; his ears twitched and his tail swept about behind him agitatedly. The black-haired man bowed beside him and offered a hushed request, to which the minotaur answered with a grunt and the offering of a key. The man took it and slunk away, eyes downcast. The chieftain stepped closer to Katja, until he was just beyond striking distance; he made no move to attack but loomed and growled.
"I urge you to recant your statement. There is a reason my clan holds Aftbide... and not your paltry 'Onyx'. In one stroke, I can damn this kingdom-- and your 'Knights'-- to death.
And what's better is that the prince of this kingdom is in my custody. Even if I were not to show you my wrath, I could still doom this kingdom to infighting-- as humans are like to do, when they do not have their arbitrary rules to rely on.. and it would be your fault!"
Grum snorted. "So go ahead-- send word to your lord. I have no time for empty threats from some ragtag cathars."
__
Kerik smiled as the hybrid uttered his first question. Then it faltered as his plea for normalcy was dismissed. The bandit squirmed a bit, more out of anxiety than any motive, while mumbling, "Well, uhm... maybe not the dead... of any kind. Or shadow monsters... Or explosions? How about the tendrils?" The brigand tried to act friendly, though nothing in that camp terrified him more.
It was enough to take his attention from Taff, though if Tom was merciful perhaps the man could get his answers soon after?
The half-orc's question drew her eyes skyward, eventually catching to the sight of Marcello drifting into the air above the village. Her grip on the reins tightened but soon after relaxed. It seemed needlessly reckless of the cambion to swoop in but he was a grown man; perhaps she and the knights hadn't given him enough credit. Thoughts drifted to the night before that cast doubt upon her vote of confidence but for the moment Faolan decided to let it be. Things were likely about to get hectic anyway.
"Aye, I think so." she replied, absent-minded.
_
Grum's bovine snout wrinkled; his ears twitched and his tail swept about behind him agitatedly. The black-haired man bowed beside him and offered a hushed request, to which the minotaur answered with a grunt and the offering of a key. The man took it and slunk away, eyes downcast. The chieftain stepped closer to Katja, until he was just beyond striking distance; he made no move to attack but loomed and growled.
"I urge you to recant your statement. There is a reason my clan holds Aftbide... and not your paltry 'Onyx'. In one stroke, I can damn this kingdom-- and your 'Knights'-- to death.
And what's better is that the prince of this kingdom is in my custody. Even if I were not to show you my wrath, I could still doom this kingdom to infighting-- as humans are like to do, when they do not have their arbitrary rules to rely on.. and it would be your fault!"
Grum snorted. "So go ahead-- send word to your lord. I have no time for empty threats from some ragtag cathars."
__
Kerik smiled as the hybrid uttered his first question. Then it faltered as his plea for normalcy was dismissed. The bandit squirmed a bit, more out of anxiety than any motive, while mumbling, "Well, uhm... maybe not the dead... of any kind. Or shadow monsters... Or explosions? How about the tendrils?" The brigand tried to act friendly, though nothing in that camp terrified him more.
It was enough to take his attention from Taff, though if Tom was merciful perhaps the man could get his answers soon after?
Merthyr rested the head against the wall in surrender at her mocking words and clear rejection, his hand grasping the barred small window.
"Lady Atoli, I fully understand I made myself unworthy of your presence and company through my rash words earlier, but please, excuse my offensive behaviour and lend a hand if you can. I seek food for these commoners and no one seems to be none the wiser about their deteriorating condition. Pray tell me... how can I earn their subsistence?... their condition is quite dire as it is and worsening, I beg of you to grant me this request for their benefit, my lady" asked Merthyr politely and humbly, no high born air or noble flair in his voice or tone.
Taff gave up on waiting for Kerik to be freed and wandered outside the camp to go and find Marcelo who had flown away. He had to find lady Katja right away and let her know Tom was no helpless child and Marcelo had left the camp of his own accord.
Taff ventured into the overgrown forest and lost his direction, looking confused at the similar looking paths he was totally unfamiliar with. His wandering steps guided him, after a noticeable journey on foot, to the Northern clan where Onyx was the leader. Taff himself was oblivious between one group of bandits or the other but he was keen to find at least the king, in case he was gravelly wounded and needed healing.
"Hello? Anyone there? Marcelo, are you here?" shouted Taff looking around the strange location, though, all these locations seemed alike and equally strange to the warlock who had grown up in palaces and castles and fortress
"Lady Atoli, I fully understand I made myself unworthy of your presence and company through my rash words earlier, but please, excuse my offensive behaviour and lend a hand if you can. I seek food for these commoners and no one seems to be none the wiser about their deteriorating condition. Pray tell me... how can I earn their subsistence?... their condition is quite dire as it is and worsening, I beg of you to grant me this request for their benefit, my lady" asked Merthyr politely and humbly, no high born air or noble flair in his voice or tone.
Taff gave up on waiting for Kerik to be freed and wandered outside the camp to go and find Marcelo who had flown away. He had to find lady Katja right away and let her know Tom was no helpless child and Marcelo had left the camp of his own accord.
Taff ventured into the overgrown forest and lost his direction, looking confused at the similar looking paths he was totally unfamiliar with. His wandering steps guided him, after a noticeable journey on foot, to the Northern clan where Onyx was the leader. Taff himself was oblivious between one group of bandits or the other but he was keen to find at least the king, in case he was gravelly wounded and needed healing.
"Hello? Anyone there? Marcelo, are you here?" shouted Taff looking around the strange location, though, all these locations seemed alike and equally strange to the warlock who had grown up in palaces and castles and fortress
Atoli jumped to her feet when she got a better look at the cambion; her feathers now ruffled in an odd alarm, she wasn’t sure if it was because he followed her, or because of her own reaction to seeing the odd boy. When he neared and began to yell out, Atoli gave a sharp hiss to try to silence him and said in an agitated tone, “When I said to leave I didn’t mean to come HERE!”
The harpy ignored Merthyr’s pleas completely now; distracted by the new arrival. Though the half-demon couldn’t see it, the creature’s brows were furrowed and her scowl was serious. She let out a huff of air through her nose to ignore the scent that came from him and stepped aside so he could land nearby. Atoli quickly glanced around for anyone that might have seen the albino from on the ground… though it was safe to assume that there would be witnesses to the demon’s approach.
Atoli looked back to Marcello now and her nose wrinkled in anger at the sight of him; though she didn’t quite understand why, herself. She snapped at him with her words, saying, “What do you want here? Either you are out of your mind or those knights sent you…" which would be mad on their part, Atoli thought. She didn't see any good reason they would send a blind albino into a town full of bandits. Atoli was on guard incase the half-breed had something up his sleeves; figuratively or physically.
The harpy ignored Merthyr’s pleas completely now; distracted by the new arrival. Though the half-demon couldn’t see it, the creature’s brows were furrowed and her scowl was serious. She let out a huff of air through her nose to ignore the scent that came from him and stepped aside so he could land nearby. Atoli quickly glanced around for anyone that might have seen the albino from on the ground… though it was safe to assume that there would be witnesses to the demon’s approach.
Atoli looked back to Marcello now and her nose wrinkled in anger at the sight of him; though she didn’t quite understand why, herself. She snapped at him with her words, saying, “What do you want here? Either you are out of your mind or those knights sent you…" which would be mad on their part, Atoli thought. She didn't see any good reason they would send a blind albino into a town full of bandits. Atoli was on guard incase the half-breed had something up his sleeves; figuratively or physically.
Katja chuckled gently, "My beastly friend, Onyx doesn't hold this land because Lady Iskra has no patience for little, pathetic jobs like this." She felt like she was pushing the limit with the minotaur, but it seemed like her voice was working before her head thought, "While the little ones like you play around with the lives of villagers, Lady Iskra is off getting the big prey. Taking down Lord's armies. Seizing entire regions for her clan." Her blue eyes glinted sharply when she turned her chin up, and they were focused intensely on Grum, "Infighting is good and common among us humans, that is true. We are well adjusted to it. We're always battling against eachother; and yet that has never stopped us from hunting and killing your kind."
"You're either stupid or suicidal for wandering into this territory." A woman's voice called through the trees, and when Taff turned she stood there; the Bandit King, leader of Onyx. Her dim blue eyes watched him with a sort of disgust; the way her lip curled upwards as she took in his dress made that look solid. She had an arrow nocked and pointed right to his face, her red hood yanked up and casting shadows over her pale skin. Behind her, stood a large group of...mostly men, some beasts. Yet everything about this situation screamed eerie relaxation, no tension at all in the way they watched him.
"You said Marcello." She said, hardly caring for if he would attempt to introduce himself; she had no intentions to introduce herself either, keeping her bow raised, "Is this Marcello you speak of a demon? Young man, long white hair?"
"O-Oh..." Marcello fidgeted a bit, rubbing at his neck, "I wanted to warn you....somewhere around these parts, there's a village called Aftbide. It's full of bandits, and it seems like they're very...aggressive." He did his best to give a charming smile, "You should stay away from there, I was lucky Lady Katja and her Knights were here to help me escape."
Yeah he was an idiot.
"You're either stupid or suicidal for wandering into this territory." A woman's voice called through the trees, and when Taff turned she stood there; the Bandit King, leader of Onyx. Her dim blue eyes watched him with a sort of disgust; the way her lip curled upwards as she took in his dress made that look solid. She had an arrow nocked and pointed right to his face, her red hood yanked up and casting shadows over her pale skin. Behind her, stood a large group of...mostly men, some beasts. Yet everything about this situation screamed eerie relaxation, no tension at all in the way they watched him.
"You said Marcello." She said, hardly caring for if he would attempt to introduce himself; she had no intentions to introduce herself either, keeping her bow raised, "Is this Marcello you speak of a demon? Young man, long white hair?"
"O-Oh..." Marcello fidgeted a bit, rubbing at his neck, "I wanted to warn you....somewhere around these parts, there's a village called Aftbide. It's full of bandits, and it seems like they're very...aggressive." He did his best to give a charming smile, "You should stay away from there, I was lucky Lady Katja and her Knights were here to help me escape."
Yeah he was an idiot.
Tom grinned and was stepping forwards towards Kerik with the full intention of helping him, the answer given pleased the hybrid no end as it gave them a full approval, at least in their own head to test the full extent of their powers. A dark purple glow spread out of their feet and saturated the ground, turning it a dark scarlet hue. Buckling and tearing the ground was wrought asunder and out smashed several thick tendrils of pure energy, their surface pulsating and glowing yet smooth to the touch.
With a single grand gesture, swinging a hand forward the being sent the tendrils rushing forward to surround and envelop Kerik. Teasing the ropes away and absorbing them into their unblemished surfaces.
"See!" The hybrid called out happily, "I did it, I upheld my side of the bargain.... now you are free! Well to aid me of course and maybe I can give you a bit of power? and maybe I could create my own town? Or how about a castle... a tall tower perhaps? No too unsteady.... I'll work out the details later.... It just feels so good to have this new body!"
With a single grand gesture, swinging a hand forward the being sent the tendrils rushing forward to surround and envelop Kerik. Teasing the ropes away and absorbing them into their unblemished surfaces.
"See!" The hybrid called out happily, "I did it, I upheld my side of the bargain.... now you are free! Well to aid me of course and maybe I can give you a bit of power? and maybe I could create my own town? Or how about a castle... a tall tower perhaps? No too unsteady.... I'll work out the details later.... It just feels so good to have this new body!"
Tara's lent horse chewed idly on its mouthpiece; it looked up toward the village and bobbed its head with restlessness. The warrior atop it reached down to pat its neck, not worried that it would spook and run but wanting to show some form of reassurance anyway. She had by then looked down from the sight of Marcello to watch Katja again, her brow furrowing under her helmet.
"I don't suppose negotiations are going well..." Faolan remarked softly. Even if Katja was too far away to read, she could see the clear agitation in the minotaur's body language.
_
The whites of the chieftain's eyes showed as Katja persisted. His tail whipped around his front, the patch of fur at its end smacking lightly against the mail skirt of his hauberk. "Then surely, you do not mind it if the prince is dead."
"I will give you one last chance, scum. You will send word to someone who can pay for his ransom or I will hang his corpse in the village center for all to see. And when our feud is done, you will join him."
_
Kerik couldn't help but cry out when he was surrounded by the unnatural tendrils, even as they worked to unbind him. He shivered but otherwise stayed still until they were gone. Then he looked up at the hybrid and pulled himself from the cot, shuddering yet again but giving a small smile in appreciation.
He would have commented at the offer of power but getting up sent a rush of blood from his head to his legs, causing another wave of dizziness to settle in. The bandit blinked multiple times, bringing his good hand to the side of his face as if to steady himself while nodding at Tom. For a moment it was too hard to speak.
"...Mmhm. I'm... glad." He uttered as his lightheadedness began to subside.
_
The guard to the cells shifted uncomfortably, glancing over at Merthyr while he spoke out the window. "Hey. Stop that." He then seemed to realize that speaking so softly to a plotting prisoner wasn't going to work so he took a deep breath and repeated himself. "Shut up!"
Still, the loud voice didn't seem to suit him. A glance in the guard's direction would yield the sight of an unimpressive skinny man with a mane of dark hair and almost whimsically pointed beard. He watched some of the others as they wallowed and glanced at the entrance of the prison with uncertainty.
"...I can't do this." The stranger mumbled, fumbling with his own set of keys.
"I don't suppose negotiations are going well..." Faolan remarked softly. Even if Katja was too far away to read, she could see the clear agitation in the minotaur's body language.
_
The whites of the chieftain's eyes showed as Katja persisted. His tail whipped around his front, the patch of fur at its end smacking lightly against the mail skirt of his hauberk. "Then surely, you do not mind it if the prince is dead."
"I will give you one last chance, scum. You will send word to someone who can pay for his ransom or I will hang his corpse in the village center for all to see. And when our feud is done, you will join him."
_
Kerik couldn't help but cry out when he was surrounded by the unnatural tendrils, even as they worked to unbind him. He shivered but otherwise stayed still until they were gone. Then he looked up at the hybrid and pulled himself from the cot, shuddering yet again but giving a small smile in appreciation.
He would have commented at the offer of power but getting up sent a rush of blood from his head to his legs, causing another wave of dizziness to settle in. The bandit blinked multiple times, bringing his good hand to the side of his face as if to steady himself while nodding at Tom. For a moment it was too hard to speak.
"...Mmhm. I'm... glad." He uttered as his lightheadedness began to subside.
_
The guard to the cells shifted uncomfortably, glancing over at Merthyr while he spoke out the window. "Hey. Stop that." He then seemed to realize that speaking so softly to a plotting prisoner wasn't going to work so he took a deep breath and repeated himself. "Shut up!"
Still, the loud voice didn't seem to suit him. A glance in the guard's direction would yield the sight of an unimpressive skinny man with a mane of dark hair and almost whimsically pointed beard. He watched some of the others as they wallowed and glanced at the entrance of the prison with uncertainty.
"...I can't do this." The stranger mumbled, fumbling with his own set of keys.
Merthyr ignored the guards inside and the order to keep quiet, persisting to talk out of the window to get a favourable answer from Atoli, hopefully sooner than later, though her voice seemed it would be the latter.
"Come now, lady Atoli, queen of Afbide, you should be just a little more attentive to your royal prisoner down here, you know. I will probably be dead sooner than later, surely I am entitled to one final request and wish?" noted Merthyr "I won't ask my belongings back, you can keep those, rather, the survival of these people" assured Merthyr resigned and humble.
"How much more grovelling does the future king have to do to get but meagre bread for these starved peasants? Be gracious and allow me to work for you, anything at all that you can think of, I will take it.
It's not every day you get royalty serving you, after all, I can be your scribe, read you the diary, draw you maps and blueprints... If boring details is not your appetite... then I can be a mule gladly slaving away sunrise to sunset and beyond like any other peasant can, just name a chore and I´ll get it done no matter how unpleasant. I can be anything you could demand and expect, your errand boy, chef, tailor, blacksmith, wood carver, cleaner, bodyguard, nightwatch, builder, wood logger or simply a target for your daggers, just... give me something to work with... anything to earn them food, blankets and buckets.
You have my word of honor I will not refuse, retaliate, escape or attack in any way, I promise upon my life and honour that I shan't leave this forsaken village without your permission, madame, and whilst it is true I do not usually consent to women holding any position of command in my realm, given the circumstances, I place myself entirely under yours for their sake, use me as you please but grant me my request" insisted Merthyr "I will even return you the key to my cell, now that I've picked out the lousy chain from its door using the buckle of my belt" confessed Merthyr
"I can write you a royal pardon that you may leave this village and roam my realm, undisturbed and unharmed or write an order of safeguarding that the army may not raise weapons against you and your crew regardless of your deeds and crimes, rather offer you protection.
I will write to my father to request that he brings a ransom of your choosing or, what pleases you most, I will give you an oath of silence, if I break it cut off my tongue, my right hand if that is what it takes" sighed Merthyr not knowing what else to offer, well aware these commoners wouldn't last the winter without some respite.
"Just grant me one venue to keep these villagers alive and fed and in better condition, it's all I ask and beg for at your feet, my lady. Just opportunities to earn them some relief and help" muttered Merthyr not caring the entire village heard or listened into his conversation with Atoli
"Yes, of course it is the very same" nodded Taff "I was seeking lady Katja of the Knights of the People to inform her that the Marcelo which she rescued earlier and placed under my care, has decided to fly away and I have lost him altogether, after all, I have no wings to keep up with him" sighed Taff shaking his head at how evaside the demon was
"I am not suicidal, I am simply lost. I am Taff Gelligen the royal manservant at the king's service. I demand to be reunited with king Merthyr Tydfil, if you happen to still be holding him alive, here, in Aftbide, with chieftain Grum. Take me to his majesty's side at once. I rather die whilst serving him than live on without him." concluded Taff no longer sure which side he was talking to but too pressed for time to care either way.
"Come now, lady Atoli, queen of Afbide, you should be just a little more attentive to your royal prisoner down here, you know. I will probably be dead sooner than later, surely I am entitled to one final request and wish?" noted Merthyr "I won't ask my belongings back, you can keep those, rather, the survival of these people" assured Merthyr resigned and humble.
"How much more grovelling does the future king have to do to get but meagre bread for these starved peasants? Be gracious and allow me to work for you, anything at all that you can think of, I will take it.
It's not every day you get royalty serving you, after all, I can be your scribe, read you the diary, draw you maps and blueprints... If boring details is not your appetite... then I can be a mule gladly slaving away sunrise to sunset and beyond like any other peasant can, just name a chore and I´ll get it done no matter how unpleasant. I can be anything you could demand and expect, your errand boy, chef, tailor, blacksmith, wood carver, cleaner, bodyguard, nightwatch, builder, wood logger or simply a target for your daggers, just... give me something to work with... anything to earn them food, blankets and buckets.
You have my word of honor I will not refuse, retaliate, escape or attack in any way, I promise upon my life and honour that I shan't leave this forsaken village without your permission, madame, and whilst it is true I do not usually consent to women holding any position of command in my realm, given the circumstances, I place myself entirely under yours for their sake, use me as you please but grant me my request" insisted Merthyr "I will even return you the key to my cell, now that I've picked out the lousy chain from its door using the buckle of my belt" confessed Merthyr
"I can write you a royal pardon that you may leave this village and roam my realm, undisturbed and unharmed or write an order of safeguarding that the army may not raise weapons against you and your crew regardless of your deeds and crimes, rather offer you protection.
I will write to my father to request that he brings a ransom of your choosing or, what pleases you most, I will give you an oath of silence, if I break it cut off my tongue, my right hand if that is what it takes" sighed Merthyr not knowing what else to offer, well aware these commoners wouldn't last the winter without some respite.
"Just grant me one venue to keep these villagers alive and fed and in better condition, it's all I ask and beg for at your feet, my lady. Just opportunities to earn them some relief and help" muttered Merthyr not caring the entire village heard or listened into his conversation with Atoli
"Yes, of course it is the very same" nodded Taff "I was seeking lady Katja of the Knights of the People to inform her that the Marcelo which she rescued earlier and placed under my care, has decided to fly away and I have lost him altogether, after all, I have no wings to keep up with him" sighed Taff shaking his head at how evaside the demon was
"I am not suicidal, I am simply lost. I am Taff Gelligen the royal manservant at the king's service. I demand to be reunited with king Merthyr Tydfil, if you happen to still be holding him alive, here, in Aftbide, with chieftain Grum. Take me to his majesty's side at once. I rather die whilst serving him than live on without him." concluded Taff no longer sure which side he was talking to but too pressed for time to care either way.
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