[RP Announcement] The Bridal Games (no hunger involved)
The Cryer took another look out of the door. Outside Khemi slumbered, the air cooled by a recent downpour. The tide had turned and the smell of salt water drifted up from the bay. All was quiet except the distant calls of the nightwatch.
It was the kind of night he remembered from his youth, something he had missed in the dry cold desert of Luxur. He felt the pangs of homesickness. He clenched his teeth in anger. He would be exiled no longer! He closed the door and quietly returned to the single shabby room. The foreign woman was sitting on an upturned barrel by the fire, sharpening her sword with a honing stone.
“The time is close,” the Cryer said, “she comes at the dark of the night at an hour when even great Set slumbers.”
The redheaded woman just grunted and continued to work the stone along the blade.
The Cryer tilted his head. “That does not interest you?”
“’Ah understand,” the woman grunted. “Lass tha wants killed ‘ll be ‘ere soon.”
His eyes widened. He flapped his arms in a mad panic, signaling her to keep her voice down. “Be quiet!” he hissed, “the words you speak are treason! This woman is servant of a noble house, perhaps a minor noble herself. The Prince she serves has a reputation for precipitant acts of extreme and ruthless violence….”
The redheaded woman said nothing, just kept honing her blade with the stone.
The Cryer sighed and settled down on the second barrel, warming his hands at the fire. “You must understand that I don’t take this decision lightly,” he said. “If word were ever to leak of my involvement, my wife, my family they would all be slain. To move against House Jade Asp is suicide, even the King would think twice about it. She has driven me to it! Yes! Driven me by her relentless persecution!”
“Killed many of tha loved ‘uns ‘as she?”
“Well no..”
“Schemed agin thee then?”
He shook his head. “Nothing like that.”
The woman put her sword aside and took a sip of water from her flask. “Must ah been summat? Man don’t pay what you paid on a whim?”
“You’ll understand when you meet her,” he promised.
The redhead laughed. “Ah don’t plan to meet ‘er. Tha’ daft bugga! What does tha think a killer does when thee see their mark? Sit an’ ‘ave tea we um? Tha’s crazy. Maybe that’s wot them assassin fella’s do around ‘ere but up north? We just kill the bugga!”
This was getting into areas the Cryer would rather not have spoken aloud. Since the woman had ignored his signals to be quiet he decided to move the conversation elsewhere. “You are sure the body won’t be found?” he murmured.
“Ey. ‘Ave a boat down byt docks. Stones and chains all set. She won’t be coming up ‘till end ot world I reckon.”
He nodded silently. This kind of preparation was why he had hired a professional. He looked up at the woman. “She drove me to it,” he said. “Drove me!”
There came a knock on the door.
The Cryer swallowed. “She comes!”
The redhead picked up her sword and stood ready. Now the business was at hand she made no sound. Just a brisk nod to signal her readiness.
Trembling with fear and anticipation the Cryer rose and walked to the door.
#
The Apprentice smiled. “Good trip?” she asked. The Cryer blinked and looked at her smiling face. For some reason she was holding two steaming earthenware cups.
“Oh I brought tea!” she said smiling wider. “Because… well I don’t exactly know why. Thought we would have a chat. You know? Catch up a little.”
“You should come inside then,” the Cryer heard himself say. “We can sit by the fire.”
The woman smiled. “Spandy!”
He held the door open then guided the apprentice down the short corridor to the single room. “Nice place!” she babbled as she followed close behind. “I’ve always had a weakness for seedy dives. So glad that it’s still a popular architectural style in this part of Khemi.”
“Arggghhh” The Redheaded woman pounced, driving her sword hard into the Apprentice’s stomach.
And missed.
It wasn’t like the Apprentice dodged, indeed she followed close behind the Cryer babbling incessantly, not even noticing her assailant. No it was more like the sword managed to reach the spot just a few seconds after the Apprentice had left it.
The woman stopped and peered at the blade with a look of puzzlement. “Tha bugga?”
“Oh you have a friend!” the Apprentice gushed. “Wish I’d known! I’d have brought another tea.”
“She is not a friend,” the Cryer said, feeling courage now he had a fighter on his side. “She is here for you!”
“You mean a gift? Awww you shouldn’t have! Mind you I do like the color… very red.”
She turned to him. “I’ve never been ginger you know. I mean I keep hoping but it’s never on the cards. I think that copper color looks especially pretty, don’t you?”
“Shurrup!” the redheaded woman said, taking another dive at the Apprentice.
It was hard to say what happened next. It wasn’t a dodge exactly because the Apprentice didn’t seem to move and the tea in her hands remained undisturbed. However somehow the woman missed badly, toppling over one of the barrels and going sprawling into the wall next to the hearth.
“Vanir, I’m guessing,” the Apprentice said with a nod. “Tendency to violence and serious impulse control issues.”
The woman had rolled over in a vain attempt to rise. The Apprentice placed a foot on her neck and pressed down. Surprisingly this was enough to pin the Vanir in place.
“Was gooin on?” the woman asked as she flailed around on the floor.
The Apprentice’s face brightened. “Well I think opinion may differ depending on who you ask. Someone with an interest in natural philosophy might mention experiments with half dead cats in sealed boxes… Which is really dangerous if you pick on the wrong cat. Still others may say that this is what adding your Dex bonus to your armor class would look like in the real world. Literary minded people may point out that this is a useful side effect of having walked ‘The Pattern’ while a literary critic may suggest that the author was just too lazy to post a six page running sword battle just to make an amusing forum post. If I were you I’d just call it ‘Hax’ and have done with it.”
She offered the trembling Cryer his tea. “There we go. Why don’t you go outside a few minutes and think over what just happened? I’m sure when you do you’ll be happy to give my Master’s new announcement. Oh and try to ignore any strange lights, smells of brimstone… screaming.”
The shaken man took his tea on instinct. He nodded and turned towards the door. “W… what will you be doing?” he asked.
The Apprentice smiled down as the prone woman.
“I told you,” she said with a smile that froze the Cryer’s blood, “I’ve never been ginger before.”
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I was going to make an announcement but we haven't settled on a day yet. So here is the info. The Noble Lord Neverlin, Prince of Stygia is seeking a bride. A games and fate will be held to decide a suitable bride. The winner of whatever social rank will become a princess with all that implies. Could anyone that is interested please PM me with the name of the character and which day would be best for you. We plan to hold the event this Friday or Saturday after 9:30Pm eastern. The day we chose will depend on how many are available on what day. Look for a further announcement on Thursday.
There may be midget tossing… just saying….
