Aerion [IC] Rated M
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May 12th, 2013 (08:46 PM).
It was justified
Join Date: Mar 2011
Varian Sigmund, Cassandra Alexandera, and Anlem Taegor- The Strutting Stagg, Curilan Eveamoor
"Depends on who's asking," Cass spouted at the broad dwarf with long red hair who walked into the bar. His red hair dropped down to his shoulders, fusing with his beard. Though that could be the alcohol talking at them point. She rose from her seat and walked over to the dwarf, and for once towered over someone. "You should give me a reason to tell my story, dwarf."
Without much of a pause in between, the dwarf shrugged. "Just simple curiousity." He smiled then. "A story before a drink? I'm only interested."
Cass smiled out of frustration, before rolling her tongue in her mouth. This dwarf's cheeky smile pissed her off. Today was not a good day to piss her off. "Do I look like some court jester to you? Huh. Why in all of those underworlds those religious nutcases talk about should I entertain you so you can enjoy your crappy mead a bit better?" Cass yelled at the dwarf, glaring into his eyes, before slowly reaching for one of her knives, trying her best to hide such movement from him. Killing him would really solve everything.
The dwaf's smile had disappeared through Cass' short rant and he now eyed her for a moment. He only looked away towards their injuried comrads shortly before bringing his eyes back to her once more. "A jester? No, not at all. More like... A character." He smiled again--a sort of admiring smile--before continuing. "Obviously you haven't come from anything funny--unless, of course, you all were trampled by a horde of men too much in a hurry to watch where they were going, then I may have something to smile about. The lack of shoe marks makes me think otherwise, however. No I didn't ask for a laugh, I asked because I was exactly what I said I was--interested. I wanted your story because I wanted to record it--if you don't mind, of course--and share it with others. By the looks of things you have a tale more than just I would be interested in."
Cass gawked at the dwarf, totally astounded by him. "You're a writer?" Cass paused for a moment, trying to gather everything in her head. "HAHAHAHA! Dwarves can actually write?!" She was beginning to lose everything. "I thoug- I tho- HAHAHA! I though all dwarves could do was swing axes and grow beards!" She began to lose her breath, gasping for air. The lack of oxygen was causing her to lose her balance, gripping onto the bar for support as tears ran down her face. "Va-Va-Varian! Get a load of this guy! AAHAHAA!"
“Cass!” Varian bellowed from his seat, not turning around to view the two of them arguing. “Stop torturing the dwarf.” He turned his head slightly to take in the appearance of the red-bearded stunt of a man, before motioning his arm to have him join him at the table, just as his order of Orbigg Ale arrived. As the barmaid began placing the drink onto the table, Varian snatched it out of her arms, and quickly brought the mug to his mouth, savoring the liquid's taste as if it were a cure for all of his problems. In his case, it somewhat was. “You’ll have to excuse her, we’re all a bit…stressed.” He didn’t feel it important to mention she was always like that.
“Work happened.” He said in his thick Highman accent to the dwarf, settling even further into his seat, trying to be as comfortable as he could, only to have his brain remind him of the nagging injuries that he had received. It was an impossibility to try and get comfortable no matter how hard he tried. Despite this, he continued to do so. “We’re mercenaries by trade. We had just returned from a job. I suppose you could say it didn’t quite go according to plan.” His thoughts went to Alys, who was taken to a private room to be examined and treated by the fat man’s physicians. "So...what's your business in this sh*thole country then? Cass is right, you don't meet many literate dwarves. At least not around here."
The dwarf took his seat just as Varian finished asking his question. "I've just been traveling," the dwarf answered calmly, seemingly unaffected by Cass' laughs and jeers. "I don't have much of an aim. Whichever place provides the most for me to write." He laughed then. "Though it wouldn't hurt to have a job."
Varian eyed the dwarf curiously, taking another large gulp of his ale. Despite only a few gulps, he was already almost done with the mug. He gave a motion to the barmaid to send him another. It wasn't as if he would be paying for them anyway. And even if he did, he wouldn't mind spending the coin right now. He needed it. Varian looked over the dwarf, his eyes catching sight of his rather large warhammer that the dwar carried. "Do you know how to use that thing?" Varian asked, pointing at the weapon he carried.
"Use it!?" The dwarf asked in disbelief. "I was practically born with it! Why do you ask?"
"Because some people carry around a big weapon to look important," Cass interjected, drying her tears. "I haven't laughed that hard in days. Let's keep him."
Varian shook his head, but debated the thought nonetheless. He finished his ale just as his second one was brought, pounding the empty mug on the table, and wiping his mouth with his arm. "If its a job you're looking for, you should try our line of work. We could always use another man." He knew this to be true, especially if they were to be traveling around as a band. He wasn't sure if the entire group would stick around, so a fresh recruit wouldn't hurt at all. "And if it's a story you're looking for, or some inspiration to write, I'm sure you'll find that along the way."
The dwarf said nothing for a time, presumably going over things in his head. His face went through a change or two. from slight amusement to serious consideration and then to a nonchalant conclusion. "I'll join you." He finally said. "How much does it pay?"
Varian raised his eyebrow, quite surprised at the sudden acceptance so casually by the dwarf. He picked up his second order of ale, and took a large gulp of it. "That depends on how much the employer offers. But all payment is split equally." He put down his mug, and extended his arm to the dwarf. "Varian Sigmund. I suppose you could say I lead the group."
"Anlem Taegor. I suppose you can say I don't."
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