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Old March 17th, 2013 (03:01 PM). Edited March 17th, 2013 by The Prince of Sweet Sorrow.
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The Prince of Sweet Sorrow The Prince of Sweet Sorrow is offline
Shepard
Crystal Tier
 
Join Date: Feb 2009
Location: Witty
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Nature: Lonely
Posts: 3,307
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Lordus Rivendare
Caelurus
Lavaridge

"Ale." The innkeep looked up at him, frightened, as he pushed past the door, claws screeching against the wooden floor.


"I'm sorry, we don't quite serve at this hour." The Chansey mustered the nerve to not look away when he locked his deep blue eyes with her black ones.

"Why, what's wrong with this hour?" his rough, raspy voice made her cringe.

"War is coming--"

He let out a short laugh that sounded like claws scourging a chalk blackboard. "All the bloody world knows that. Ale, I said." He reached for the pouch hanging from the black belt across his chest, then snapped it and tossed it in front of her feet. The coins inside rung a sound so sweet that persuaded the innkeep to grab for it and begone somewhere to the kitchen.
The gold he gave her was enough to buy ale for the rest of the month, but he regretted nothing. Counting coins wasn't his hobby.

The bulky Haxorus was blocking the door entirely, slightly leaning forward so his head wouldn't bump into the ceiling; the tips of his two swords were scratching the floor as the belt they had been hung from had lowered on his thick waist. He waited. The Chansey returned with a skin of ale, he smelled it and grinned, revealing his sharp teeth.

"
Do you require anything..."

"Further? No, I thought you'd be running away from town. War's coming," he reminded her. The empty inn was the proof. He took a step toward her, extending his left arm to reach for the ale. Glancing at the dark bandages around it, she winced, but she handed him over the bottle. He popped it open, brought it on his mouth and left the inn without a word.


***


Giving all his money for a skin of ale was something he longed to do. He had little use of gold. Might as well spent it on ale. He loved ale. One of his favorite pleasures, the sweet draught sliding down his throat. Warring while being drunk was something he would give all the gold he carried for. His accountant back in his house would pull his hair out, if he had any left, he was that bad at keeping gold.

He stopped amidst the road, his eyes locked on a pair of Pokemon. The skin of ale hung from his belt, empty, as he stared the leader of the Caelurus Tribe down with dark amusement.

"... I want many things, Tray," the Aggron was saying. "For example, I want Groudon to come to our help in this time of need. But I sure as hell DO NOT need a meeting with that other tribe!"

"Adam, we need to solve this. We cannot survive another war after that one last time. We need to discuss this as a species, the humans won't be looking at us as Caerulus or Ruber Tribe members when they massacre us." The Blaziken named Tray had a point, though Lordus wasn't quite into the idea of discussing. Ruber Tribe was known to be full of Pokemon with water instead of brains, though there were a few exceptions... he had a friend once. Once.

"No! I refuse to take any help from those non believers." The Haxorus barked laughter. Best join the humans, I'd say to myself. Bugger these gods the Tribes speak of, and bugger their damned hides as well.

"Listen, Adam, we have to do this. Even if you don't responsibility I can take ove-"

"Never! This is my tribe! I formed it, and I led it through the Great War! I absolutely refuse to-"

"Adam, shut up. If the crowd didn't believe in you, I would have struck you down, right here, right now. The message has been sent and you will attend this meeting, along with some members of the tribe."

Lordus would raise both his eyebrows, if he had any. Bold one, this Tray. Likely to get himself killed with that tongue on this meeting he speaks of, before the war even starts. He took his eyes off the Blaziken to a familar, slender form of a Dragonair. His face shook in a brimming half-smile as he stared at her approaching. Here comes the beauty.

Aurora kept her distance, he noted, a quite cold move of hers, it would seem at first sight, but he minded none.

"So I see things are going to become serious. There are a lot of rumors going around town right now about the war and the Ruber Tribe. I just saw Adam in a dispute with Tray on the volcano’s peek. Do you know exactly what is going on?"

"I can answer that for you." The Blaziken interrupted them, "And that answer is, nothing. Nothing is wrong."

Lordus let out a long sight, clenching his teeth and looking away from them both, on the ground, thinking all the while. "Nothing is wrong," he said finally, then let out a raspy laugh that reeked of mock. "If you'd give me a leave for a guess, I'd let my nose do the work. The thing smells like ****, if you ask my nose."
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