Trading Post (open)

First topic message reminder :

(Really? No one interested? Guess I will make it solo post then. I must be terrible writer. I so sick of solo posts.)

Leostonnia. its landscape was dotted with fortified keeps and towns. Each settlement a small kingdom in itself. It was a land of heroic knights, and beautiful maidens, a land of fairytales. One would think mercenaries, sell swords, would be unable to find work here with honor held so highly. But that was far from the case. With such a vast territory nobles often hired them to supplement there own military forces to cover patrols or to be settlement guards.

Richard himself often took contracts as a merchant caravan guard. It paid well and he got to travel. That was how he arrived at a nameless trading outpost on the frontier lands. Upon arriving he had learned that the outposts merchant guild had put a hefty bounty for any that could put a end to the attacks that were happening on there caravans. Obviously it was bad for business and Richard was always in need of coin and new thrills. So he took on the job.

It proved a difficult one as the culprit of the attacks was a lone Catawal. Normally the monsters ran in packs. Richard counted himself lucky the beast was a solitary one as the fight nearly cost him his life. But in the end he was victorious. There hides were to strong for bladed weapons but amidst the bodies and wreckage of a destroyed merchant caravan he acquired a mace. It proved a effective weapon for smashing in Catawal skulls.

Exhausted and battle weary Richard returned to the trading post that was surrounded with thick trunks of wood from the nearby woods to form a wall. He stood before the gate and tossed the dented mace to the side in the mud. "Open up!" Richard barked at the ramparts above the gate. A mercenary guards head poked up and they saw Richard. His bucket helm was partially caved in. The chest plate he had was scarred with a claw mark and the shoulder plate on his right sword arms side had a bit mark that showed he had narrowly escaped a neck bite.

But the thing that stood out most was the large sack Richard had slung over his shoulder that was soaked red with blood and dripping. The trading post guard called down below and with a heavy groan the wooden gates opened and Richard strolled with his head held high and chest puffed out. Rain clouds had formed over the course of the last hour and the sky opened up in a downpour. The well traveled ground now turned into mud and Richards boots made sucking sounds with each step as he headed to the wooden shack that made up the merchant guilt office of this particular place.

Richard entered through the door and stood in front of a mustached man dressed in lavish purple silks with gold lacing. Atop the merchants head was a hat with a puffy peacock tail feather sticking out. A sign of his position and wealth. Richard dumped the bloody sack on the rich mans desk and got a nasty look from him. "The head of the monster". Richard said with pride.  "Your getting blood on my desk". The noble said with no hidden distain. Putting a pouch on the desk heavy with coin the merchant gave a dismissive wave of a hand. "Take your coin and go vagabond. Your services are no longer needed".

Richard had no problem with that. He took the coin pouch in a hand and tossed it a bit to judge its weight. Satisfied the sell sword tied it off to his belt and gave a curt bow before leaving back into the rain. But he could not enjoy the payment just yet. Already he was looking for a metal worker to assist him with a problem. Such was life, you work for coin only to turn around and give some of it to others.

He listened for the trademark banging of metal on anvil and waved at guards on the walls who calling out "Monster Slayer!" With enthusiasm. Richard found the blacksmith. He was a old man with white hair that showed how many winters he had seen. "What can I do for ye?" Asked the old man. "I got this bucket helm stuck and squeezing on me head. Get it off." The metal worker eyed Richard through the helmets eye slot and took note of the snake like yellow eyes. "You got coin?"

"Aye". With that the smith motioned for Richard to sit in a chair. The hard part was coming up now as the metal worker had to hammer on the helm. Each impact sent a shock through his skull and it was not long until his ears started to ring. But it had to be done. The bucket helm had served its purpose in stopping the monster from crushing his head in its jaws. Just a few more moments and his head would be free of it.

Shortly after the Kryoan settled back into his silent observation of the other patrons, more arrived. The very pregnant woman went unnoticed by Svadilfare, only because of who came in before her. Solomon Wyrmfyre. The assassin had been hired to kill the Leostonnian prince a few years ago. The job had gone unfinished--a first for the Pride of Kryo--because the man who hired him had kidnapped his children. Even in this setting, Svadilfare could carry out the assassination... But making a kill in the middle of a crowded inn tavern was precisely the sort of thing an assassin like Nari Taloe would do. Svadilfare was a true assassin, not a blatant Kakos criminal. Anyway, there was something he wanted more than to finish what he started.

The Pride of Kryo rose from his chair and walked toward Solomon Wyrmfyre and the knight that accompanied him. As he approached, he drew his twin swords; the right he raised slowly up to the throat of the knight; the left he kept at his side. "If it is possible, Highness, I would speak with you." Svad shifted his stance a bit, slightly tightened his grip on his left sword. He expected the knight to raise his sword in kind, in fact, he almost counted on it. "I have information you may find most interesting."

Richard enjoyed the company of the fellow mercenaries that invited him to there table. They were kindred souls and he could not help but find there happy nature to be contagious. He drank, rolled dice, shared stories. The knights who had come inside looking after him forgotten. Richard did not even notice as they left.

"You seriously gave the dragon a black eye!?" One of the sells words at the table asked after Richard gave a very enthusiastic story. Richard could not help but laugh. "Aye, that I did!" With that exclamation he raised a tankard and downed it all before slamming the cup on the wooden table. "We were traveling down a narrow mountain pass in a blizzard when the animal showed up."

"Only the gods know why it attacked us unprovoked all those years ago but the beast flew along and blew out fire and fury turning half the caravan to ash! Beast of burden and man alike! I called all the survivors into a narrow crack in the mountain side. Crammed in tight we were. We all got quite familiar with each other!" With that Richard let out a laugh at the memory.

"The big lizard landed on the side of the mountain and stuck one of its claws into the crevice we were in and scratched me right across the chest it did! But its limbs could not reach us. As it put its head to look inside I punched it right in the eye!"

With that Richard slammed a fist on the table for effect. "Got it real good! It let out a roar and flew off! Must have had enough as it never returned." Richard could already sense the questions and doubt at such a claim and already loosening his armor. With his chest revealed Richard showed all those at the table the dragon claw scar across his chest. "Just so none here dare call me a liar."

At a near by table a drunk sells word chuckled. "Ash warrior.... hmph, what a joke. I'm surprised there are any of your kind left, relicts of the old days sworn to defend the common people for a fair price or for free."

Richard had had more then enough lip from people tonight and secured the armor back on his chest before turning around to walk over to the table across from his. "Crimson blade are you?" Richard asked as he looked the mercenary up and down in the chair they were sitting in. "I hear about your order as well..... nothing but murderers of woman and children, assassins and thieves. Its people like you all that give us real freedom loving mercenaries a bad name. Your nothing more then a common bandit for hire, except less skilled and more smelly."

The crimson blade sell sword seemed to take offence to the comment and stood up with a puffed up chest only to be head butted by Richard with his ram horn helm sending the man to the floor. There was a moment of silence as the crimson blades fellow members stood dumbfounded, processing just how there leader was knocked out in one blow. They seemed to collect themselves though and someone yelled out.

"Get that half breed freak!"

The entire room erupted into chaos. The sound of splintering wood as furniture became the first victims of the brawl. Richard was tackled to the ground and rolled over so he was on top of his opponent. Holding on to the scruff of the tunic near the neck he gave a few strong punches into the crimson blades gob. Feeling some strong arms seizing hold, Richard was hauled up to his feet.

With both his arms held in place by men on either side of him another came at Richard from the front and started to give a few strong punches to his stomach before giving him a right hook to the face. Spitting out a stream of red Richard smiled. "That all you got? You hit like a woman".

With bells being rung outside it was only a matter of time until the outpost guard showed up to break up the fighting.

Solomon Wyrmfyre was still examining the patrons of the establishment and merely caught the man moving towards him from the corner of his eye, he would only have enough time to just grasp hold of hilt of his arming sword before Svadilfare's twin blades were drawn, one of which now currently brandished towards the throat of Sir Telaf. Remaining dignified Solomon would release the grip of his sword at the action, his visage one at ease, he knew that the man would rather be a simpleton to attack a leal knight of the realm and attempt to hold the Prince of the Kingdom hostage, especially when the room was filled while perhaps not loyal servants to the liege Monarch but mercenaries who's loyalty would be coin, coin the Crown of Leostannia would grant all those who would stand by the side of the royalty as reward.

Sir Telaf however was bristling with rage at Svadilfare's bold move of raising his sword to him, the Knight was visibly shaking in anger as his eyes shone with unbridled fury. "How dare you, you wretched creature raise a blade to your betters!", Telaf would boom, losing all sense of composure, he'd begin fanatically undoing one of his gauntlets with the intention to throw it to the ground to call Svadilfare out on a duel. Solomon releases a faint sigh under his breath as he raises his left hand for Telaf to stop "Calm yourself Sir Telaf, our new friend here clearly is not bound by any of the Chivalric virtues, you would just continue to make a fool of yourself", laughing out loud as Sir Telaf's visage would contort into a pout at the realisation Solomon would return his attention to Svadilfare "Well, before you continue to dishonour and stain the pride of my companion. You have certainly caught my attention, now if you would sheath your blades, I will gladly deliberate. What is it you wish of me?". Solomon would match his gaze with that of the Assassin awaiting for what he'd have to say or for that matter prepared to follow him to not cause more of a scene than which has already been done within the tavern.

The warrior-assassin's thoughts were unclear as he listened to the knight. Even as that knight went to remove his gaunlet, Svadilfare remained expressionless. But it amused the Kryoan to think the knight believed himself "better", simply because he was a knight, the soldier of a kingdom, or that he be immune to having a blade raised to him for any one of those facts. It amused Svad even more that the Prince should assume he were without chivalry. "Perhaps you should allow him his fight. 'twould be beneficial for him to learn that status and title mean nothing in battle, that it is not what makes one man better than another." Even as he said this, Svadilfare lowered his arm. However, he did not sheath his swords. "And you are wrong, Highness, to think I am without chivalry. For I have acknowledged your nobility and I would dare venture I am more chivalrous to women than your men, than any man here, in fact. But to my reason for approaching you. I was hired some years ago to assassinate you. My client was a man by the name of Uragiru. I assume he is some politician and was looking to better his seat at the table of power in Leostonnia. I break my vow of secrecy to my client's identity, only because he betrayed me in the worst possible way. Now I seek vengeance, and I was hoping you might deliver him to me, or at the very least tell me where he might be found."

Sir Telaf was visibly shaking in indignation as the animosity between himself and the warrior-assassin only seemed to grow, he’d open his mouth to retort to the first comment made by Svadilfare but restrained himself once Solomon shifted his gaze towards him, commanding him through a mere look to hold his tongue. Solomon himself then turned his attention back to the Assassin, it was clear he was a foreigner, the concept of equality was not a profound one within the fair lands of Leostonnia. The peasantry of the Kingdom were mostly illiterate and had no concept of honour or chivalry, they were in essence bound to the land in their service to nobility, outside of serving as longbowmen and men-at-arms in the field they received very little training, the concept that status and title meant nothing was unheard of. This warrior-assassin reminded the Prince of his younger years, his father had commissioned a master at arms to train him by the sword from a foreign state and he too held no title.

From his musing Solomon was brought back to reality from his distant memories as his features faltered in shock at the accusation Svadilfari then made. To state such an affront was unspeakable to even consider, Lord Uragiru Berenfoth was Solomon’s own vassal within his Dukedom. A man outside of the nobility would of been hung immediately for even vexing the proposal of announcing a member of the aristocracy in foul play it was an affront upon the very foundations of Leostonnian society, however this assassin Solomon knew would of been aware of such and even raising his blade at the initial encounter it was clear the man was desperate and perhaps even telling the truth, such loftiness of the nobility wasn’t so firm that Solomon couldn’t see that Uragiru could have a reason for his death.

Seven years ago the Dukedom of Candor rose up in rebellion attempting to return to their ancestral status as an independent Kingdom, in that time Duke Candor was sorely defeated and slain and the Dukedom was given to Solomon, thus forming the Wyrmfyre’s of Candor keep an independent branch from the main royal line. Solomon’s father after the civil war pursued a policy of amnesty with those vassals loyal to Duke Candor for them to once more renew their vows of fealty to their liege, and Lord Uragiru who served as Castellan of Candor in the absence of his Duke was the first to re-swear such loyalty when he surrendered the Ducal Palace. It now weighed on Solomon that perhaps the Lord Castellan who remained as the second most powerful noble within the Dukedom apart from Solomon himself might wish to continue the civil war where his previous liege Lord failed. “Thou speaks of treason, the most heretical of transgressions. I take thou doth have proof of these claims? If so Prithee believe me, I shall aid you in bringing his wrong doings to justice for thee and thineself”

[Bump]