For the Sake of....

[snipeking]

Father Brom dusted his robed off briefly before stepping back onto the path. Royal messengers were normally courteous enough to clergy to at least steer their horses around them. He wondered to himself what was so urgent. He also wondered if there was another of his faith scribing informtaion on the subject right now.
He wasn't so much nosy as predisposed to ask questions. It was the commandment of the Watcher, after all, that those devoted to him should seek out knowledge wherever it may be.

Articullis Brom had been on more adventures than he could remember, fortunately he had scribed and bound a small book that gave reminders to jog his memory, a memory that was starting to become less reliable with age.

He tugged at his beard a little as he walked, hoping he remembered correctly that there was a tavern up ahead less than a mile.

[Riko Rain]

[Ok I know I promised forever ago to post here, and I am sorry, I forgot, but here I come. Hope you dont mind my bland intro. Im making a new character up as I go along. Plan to possibly be a magic user or something, I dont know. Ill figure him out really soon, since hes based on a drawing I just did.]


Sev first leaned to his side, then began scooting away from the drunkard who for some reason thought he was the 'Best Friend of the Fella'. The crudely made wooden booth seats were cracked and splintered as Sev soon found out, reaching a hand down to rub the prick on his ass.

"No- I dont.. darn.." Sev pushed away the man softly and scuttled his way to the end of the bench where a shadow came. He seemed to be hidden now. He leaned his staff on the wall where it slid partially under the table, as if sitting on the bench too. The drunkard left.

"Finally some quiet.."

[maden]

Schiarire only had two things on his mind at the current time. His mind was split between going to the nearby tavern and taking a break, or continuing his search for a worth adversary while training himself in the process of finding said person/creature. "I could...no. Even the most foolish of men know the limits of their body. I best not over exert."

[snipeking]

Another half hour of walking and he arrived at the tavern. It was worn down on it's best days, a wooden sieve when it rained. The lack of upkeep was not uncommon in this part of the land, crops had failed this past year. Farmers were more common than travelers, and when the farmers had nothing, everyone suffered.
Brom recalled hearing that Lord Kelven had opened his lands to the people for hunting the past winter. An incredibly generous gesture for nobility, and a mark of both wisdom and humanity. Lord Kelven was the third son of Lord Gustav. The family had lost their second son in a jousting tournament, and both father and first born had fallen to the plague 7 years ago. Kelven was still a young man, and had not been given much more than a proper education by a monk in the Holy Order of The Watcher, and a meager allowance. Now he was in ruler of a thousand men, and his men were starving.
Brom shook his head at the concept and walked through the door. He would remember to tip well here.

As he walked in, he pulled his holy symbol, a small copper pendant of a quill writing on parchment on a long leather cord, out from underneath his robes. He preferred to keep his occupation to himself as he traveled. People with horrible secrets had been known to kill clergy of the Watcher. Brom had lived long enough to see why first hand. He kissed the pendant out of habit, and let it hang there for all to see.
He walked through the mostly empty room to the bar and selected the one good stool. He placed his satchel on the floor next to him and smiled at the grim woman behind the bar. "Afternoon ma'am. I'll have the special and whateve's coldest for drink." The woman looked at him for a moment and tapped the counter twice before placing her palm up to indicate payment in advance. He nodded and made a noncommittal noise as he reached into one of his sleeves and pulled out 2 silver coins, discreetly placing them into her hand, which she quickly closed into a fist and jammed into a pocket of her apron. She walked into the kitchen and out of sight.
Articullis reached down into his satchel and pulled out a worn leather bound book and opened it. He flipped through several pages before placing his finger on the page and reading, or at least that's what it was supposed to look like. He had noticed the other robed man in the room, his staff, and the fact that he seemed uncomfortable here. He had every intention to watch him for at least as long as they were in the same building. He could be another god's servant, a wizard, or he could just be in disguise. Whatever the case, Brom was placed on the road that led to this tavern, and it was in this tavern that an unusual young man sat, trying to make the pain of a splinter go away. The Watcher had never sent a member of his clergy on a boring journey, and Brom held faith that something would happen on this journey as well.

[maden]

"These fates...they must be laughing at me right now. 'Look at the poor fool and his fruitless attempts.' Tsch this is where I differ from the normal mercenary. Doing jobs just for the money gets a man nowhere. Only toward a life of greed and increased poverty. I haven't spoken this philosophically since...I can't even remember how long ago thats how long it has been." Schiarire let out a small grin, still looking at the tavern beyond. His destination was indeed the small temporary sanctuary however it would only remain a sanctuary as long as he had the necessary funds to supply himself. His last job, a hunt in the mountains to kill some savage beasts whom murdered his client's husband, proved to be insufficient as far as resupplying himself with much needed funds went. It did, however, give him some sense of joy being able to help those in need.

He put a hand on the necklace he wore, gripping it as if it were a holy object. The necklace he now wore was given to him as a sign of manhood by his mother and farther. It was the only object he had left of his past. Schiarire's previous life, before taking up the life of a mercenary, was unfulfilled in more ways then one. His wife, a woman he wished not to wed in the first place but was force to by his folk, nagged to the fullest extent of the word, he himself could find no real joy except helping others. His cold nature often contradicted with his 'joy' making it difficult in concept to help others. On a evening when his wife would go out to visit the neighboring people living around his area, Schiarire grabbed everything precious to him and disappeared. Many presumed he died somewhere in the forest as blood was found nearby, a staged effort by Schiarire to make it look like he died.

Shaking his head to rid of himself of the memories, Schiarire grabbed his current arms, a well crafted bow and sword, and headed in the direction of the tavern.

[Riko Rain]

Sev was enjoying his time. Though he was usually kind and naturally calm with a helpful demeanor, he was also finding it amusing to perform something of childish nature. Every so often he stuck the end of his staff (still undeer the table) poking out to make the nearest drunk stagger. This proved quite useful in keeping them from sitting beside him and blabbering on about wives and children.

As he drank now from the warm liquid in his cup, he was reminded that it wasnt the finest he had and made him a bit miserable. He mumbled a bit in thought as he looked around the Tavern. More peopel had come in and it was louder than before. When someone would start a verbal conflict, they would yell louder than the rest, and Sev's head would throb a bit.

[Sorry though.. thats all I can think of. Filler, right? So thats filling enough xD]

[maden]

The tavern wasn't much to look at. The overall atmosphere gave off a depressing look to it, with drunks roaming about complaining and such. Schiarire found a spot to lay down his arms and took it upon himself to throughly relax. He would be content with any amount of downtime given to him whether it be 10 minutes or an hour.

A sudden thought rose to Schiarire's head. Since this was a tavern after all, it was possible they had some posts on any 'jobs' that needed accomplished. However this was a time to lay back not to work.

[Eh..I'm feeling tired right now sorry guys.]

[Riko Rain]

[No problem, I myself am just going to post a small snippit. And yes, I just used bad english.. But this i s just a little plain post. ]

Sev called a small waiter woman over, and asked for whatever was enough for the random amount of coins he pulled out of a hidden pocket. He ended up getting some sort of bread biscuit with gravy on the side and what looked like 3 dishes smashed into one. He grimaced at the taste of the mash, and ate the bread-like roll, using the gravy as a lubricant. He let some neabry drunk eat the rest of his food and he sat back, quite pleased at being full and basically pleased, althoguh the occasional head-throb would temporarily ruin it.

With nothing else to do, he started identifying the people in the tavern. He looked at each, noticed which were the dumb drunk farmers, which were lazy and of no interest, and those who actually looked like they had a reason to be here and living. He noted about five to seven of average interest; the rest were too plain or full of the drink to do anything more than mutter and stumble and fight.

[snipeking]

Brom's food and drink arrived after a little while, and he placed the book down beside his plate. He took a moment to shine the metal spoon and inspect it's clarity while using it as a means to notice the young man who had entered. That accomplished, he lowered his head to pray. His was the only religion that called for prayer to be uttered with both eyes open. The Watcher had opened his eyes to behold Creation, and it has been foretold that he would close his eyes only when the end of Creation came. After a short prayer, he began to eat.
Conversation was common; no money, hard times, wishes for something better. He had heard this sort of talk more than he would care to admit. It seemed that something was wrong with the land. Hearts grew weak and souls grew tired.
He knew well that the gods and their constant wars for control brought about the cycle of existence that his order had chronicled from a time so long ago, that it was only known in the memory of gods and the edlest of dragons. The cycle had reached a point where evil was coming into power once again. Hardships, crime, and ultimately war were on the horizon. Brom tried not to get himself too deeply in contemplation when he was sitting in the presence of so many lives that were to be watched.
He finished off his meal and expressed his thanks to the grim woman who served him. He picked back up his book and looked out the window at the failing light of the evening sun. He noticed the flash of metal and replaced his book in his satchel and walked out the door calmly.

A few moments later....

From inside, his voice could be heard over a loud clank of steel. "HELP!! GOBLINS!!! HELP!!!"

Five goblins had surrounded him and were swinging their swords and axes at the old man, trying desperately to cut him down.

[Riko Rain]

[AHAHAHAHA NICE!! Just get attacked all of a sudden and bring in some action! Woot! I was wondering how long it would take for us to get into some good stuffles. This is all I can do for now. ]

Sev heard the yell, along with everyone else in the tavern. About a fourth the people rushed to the door while another fourth ran deeper into the tavern looking for a back escape route. Half sat in their seats or stood in a stupor. Sev happened to be one to rush to the door, quite ungraciously. He tripped over his own staff twice while trying to get out of the bench before finally crawling under the table and out the other side. He was light, so he got pushed aside by bigger men many times. The only reason he actually made it in front of the rest of them was because he managed to easily slip through gaps and slide between bodies. A couple of times he used the end of his staff to knock someone behind the knees, causing them to trip foward.

The first thing he noticed wasnt the attack, it was the fact that it was getting on later in the day, and the cool breeze he felt that drifted past him briefly. Then he remembered the yell and in a blind action, threw the nearest item (which so happened to be anothers half full cup) in the general direction of the action. He was scorned by the fellow, but he swung his staff around. Apparently no one wanted to be smacked upside the head with a long sturdy piece of staff.

[maden]

"By the gods....a breakout in a tavern of all places." Schiarire looked up from his current position upon hearing the yelling that took place. His sword and bow by his side, he slowly went for them but then retreated his hand back to where it was on the table after a quick thought. "No. I'd rather not get involved unless need be. My involvement would only mean more chaos. Yes more chaos...." Not even his sensible side could convince him. Schiarire picked up his sword and bow once again with more intent and proceeded out in a calm yet energetic manner. Luckily, his seating happened to be right near the entrance making it easier to inspect the scene and avoid all the stampeding morons investing the entrance of the tavern. "Five of them....augh and here I was expecting something of a little more caliber. Whatever a fight is a fight."

[snipeking]

Articullis did everything in his power to maintain concentration. It had been almost a decade since he had been attacked by goblins. He had forgotten how insanely noisy they could be when they got frustrated. They realized that none of their swings would strike true, but it was so hard for them to see clearly in the sunlight. They were night creatures by nature, after all. Their infuriated shrieks raised in both pitch and volume as Brom fell to the ground and curled into a ball. The Goblins could almost smell the blood that would soon wet their blades, the tighened the circle and continued swinging their weapons wildly at Brom, ignoring the tankard of ale that flew towards them.
The cleric, however, was quite safe for the time being. St. Aryia's Warding would grant him more than enough time to be rescued, so long as he could maintain concetration on the subtle flow of power he had come to understand was his favor in the immortal Eyes. He had found the flow was immediately present when he made his sign of warding.

[maden]

"Ha take that...what? Your kidding me." Schiarire wasn't sure if his eyes were deceiving him when he looked upon the cleric. The arrow he shot off had a direct hit on one of the goblins, angering the others in the process.

His knowledge of the clergy was of very little so he could tell not if what the cleric knew what he was doing or had just given up altogether. However, any smart cleric would know better then to just 'give up' per say. Nevertheless, Schiarire readied another arrow and shot it, getting another direct hit on a goblin. "Hmph like shooting fish in a barrel. I might have to get close soon though at this rate." he said grinning.

[Riko Rain]

[Bwaaa its cold outside! YAY! *likes cold better than hot* again all i can do for now as Im abotu to leave]

Sev promply made his way with the circle of idiots around the cleric. It was hard really to tell what was goign on, with what the goblins thrashing their weapons around widly and such. It became easier when two fell with arrows stuck fast in them. He promply smacked one that had been shot on the head as it fell, jus tin case it decided it was angry enough at being shot to try and get back up.

Sev weilded his staff as if it were just a pole meant for beating with both hands. He scraped one goblin across the back with the bottom in his right hand, and thrust his left out to whack it in the back of the neck with the highly decorated gem top. A counter with his right and another smack made the goblin fall, reeking of their natural stink. Sev almost barfed up what little drink he had taken.

[maden]

[Yup I'm loving this cold weather.]

Only another goblin remained out of the five that were originally there. If the others were alive Schiarire couldn't tell the difference from the distance he was at. "Someone was smart enough to assist I see. About bloody time." he said to himself. Schiarire grabbed another arrow from his side and let it loose getting another good hit on the goblin. "Heh fish in a barrel indeed I suppose..."