Aerion [IC] Rated M
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February 7th, 2013 (6:05 PM).
See You Space Cowboy
Varian Sigmund- Outside Broken Keg, Dalenham
Varian waited for the rest of the group to exit the tavern. He continually looked to the sides of the sh*t-filled streets in expectation of the inevitable appearance of guards. He hoped however, that he and the others would be long gone before they got here. He certainly didn't intend to spend the night in a cell the night before finding new work, especially one so rewarding.
"Wolf Pops!" The voice of Xeye filling his ears. Varian turned over to see her exiting the bar. Behind her, he noticed chaos still ensuing. He squinted his eyes, seeing not only fighting now, but also fire.
"Isir be damned..." He whispered under his breath.
"Can I destroy this dump of a bar? Pleeeeeeeaaase, Wolf Pops!?"
"What are you, mad?" He bellowed at the tiny girl. "Are you fixing to get a price on our heads? Or hanged?!" His gazed remained on her for a few moments longer, before he gazed away back at the streets. He could hear the guards apparently already on their way. "Gods...!" Alright," he began, addressing the group. "Do what you want. I care not. But mark me. Tomorrow upon the dawn, we set out on the job. If you're not present, I'll take it as a sign you've decided to part ways. That, or you're in the dungeon. Or dead. Whatever the reason, we take off without you."
Without another word to the group, Varian grabbed a hold of a still very drunk Cassandra on the floor of the ****-filled cobblestone street, and slung her over his neck, taking off to one of the many roads away from the tavern. Whatever they decided to do, he'd see the others tomorrow. Or not.
Varian Sigmund- Edward's Tavern, Dalenham
A sharp pain came from the center of Varian's forehead. He groaned, placing a hand upon the area of discomfort, as if to try and rub it away. Ironically, went he rubbed his hand around the area, he felt an oddity, and looked back upon his fingers to see the remains of dried blood. Despite the throbbing in his head, Varian sat up, his gaze lingering on his fingers for a moment longer. As he looked around the room, a few questions came into his mind. How did he end up here? Where exactly was he? And who in Isir's name was the unclothed woman lying next to him?
As he got out of bed and began dressing himself, he contemplated these questions. Parts of his body ached as he looked at a few places were new bruises and scratches were formed. Some of them he was able to identify from the barfight. Others were new to him, their origin likely afterward, but from what Varian could recall. By the sound of his movement, the woman began to stir, yawning and stretching her limbs as she opened her eyes. She looked up at Varian who stared down at her. Her features were quite nice. Long brown hair and eyes to match it. She was well-figured, and her skin was smooth and relatively flawless. For a Dalenham girl, at least. There was a moment or two of silence between the pair, before the woman gave the Highman a smile, and spoke softly. "Good morning." She said softly to him.
"Good morning." He stated back to her. He continued to dress himself as he placed on his sleeveless leather vest, and then his baldric over that. Harnessing his axes upon his back, he looked back down to the woman. Again, a brief pause between the two. She continued to smile up at him, while Varian shifted between examining the room and the woman. "Sleep well?" she asked him.
"More or less." Varian replied. He paused momentarily on what he should say next, but then decided to blurt out, "So...shall I pay you now or have I already done so last night?"
The next sight Varian saw was a hand coming upon his cheek, smacking him loudly enough that perhaps if others outside the door were present, they too would have heard it. Varian's cheek instantly starting becoming red from the slap. "Right." He said, heading for the door. "I suppose that means last night..." He said in a rush, exiting the door, just as the woman began cursing after him.
On the other side of the door, Varian found himself in the familiar sight of Edward's tavern. The old, creaky, filthy-looking tavern looked much the same as it did when he entered it the day before to collect his silver for the job, though some tables appeared to have been damaged. A few stools also appeared to be out of place. Varian began to recall a bit of what happened though it was all very hazy. After he split apart from the group, he and Cass must have headed here. He remembered Cass challenging him to another round of drinking. He didn't remember exactly how, but the damned woman had somehow managed to coerce him into it, and the rest was history.
"You silver-tongued devil, you." The familiar voice of Edward said to Varian from behind his counter at the helm of the tavern. He smiled spitefully at the Highman as he cleaned a mug with a dirty rag. He headed towards Edward without an immediate reply, rubbing the side of his face as he tried to orient himself.
"How much for the room?" Varian asked in his usual cold voice.
"Oh, you already paid las-", Edward stopped himself in the middle of his sentence. "...Uh, that'll be fifteen bronze pieces." He said with a smile. Varian did not bother to put up a fight about the ridiculous price of the room, still feeling the effects of the no-doubt large amount of drinking he had done the night before. He placed the bronze pieces from his bag onto the table, and looked around the dump of a tavern.
"Have you seen Cass around?"
"Eh? Not since last night. Boy did you two go at it. Haven't seen this dump this lively since the Guild Wars! I should have the two of you drunk off your brains in my bar more often, it's great for business!"
Varian stopped listening to the man after he mentioned he hadn't seen Cassandra, and began to head for the exit. Edward kept on shouting after Varian as exited the bar, and for a while too as he was outside, but eventually the sounds of his voice faded away as he integrated back into the main street. Varian was able to get it together along the way, shaking off most of the effects of liquor through the 'fresh' air of Dalenham, and was feeling loads better as he approached the gates of Dalenham, where the group was supposed to meet. Already at the gates was the merchant, who beamed at the sight of the first of them.
"Ah! You have come! I was worried none would show, especially after that incident that happened last night at the tavern you were frequenting. Did you hear about it? Terrible news, the guards even had to arrest a few ruffians."
Varian kept his silence, not replying to the merchant beyond the initial nod he gave him upon seeing him. But he did wonder if any of those 'ruffians' the merchant spoke of that now occupied the Dalenham dungeons were any of his group. He supposed he would soon find out.
A Legend once told me that roleplaying is about bringing people together and celebrating creative vision.
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