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The Order | An Original Fantasy Roleplay [M] (RP Thread)

Discussion in 'Role-Playing Games' started by Minteh, Jul 17, 2018.

  1. VampirateMace

    VampirateMace Internet Overlord

    Axel Nicks
    (aka The Grand Wizard Alexandros Brightstone Charlemagne, the Skilled)
    The Golden Crown (Westreach Old Town)

    Axel peered into the canteen, and gave a sniff, before taking a swig. He doubted they would try to kill them by poisoning after all this effort, but it never hurt to be cautious.

    He caught sight of Oren's nod to him, he'd already strongly suspected he was right to start with. And now other people were asking questions now too, Axel leaned up against the edge of a dusty table, watching and making mental note of each person's concerns, encase knowing about them would be helpful in the future. People often forgot what they had or hadn't told you, especially when they didn't say it directly to you. Seko wanted her belongings, and honestly, Axel wanted his too. It was really hard to pretend to be magical when all the potions and trinkets you used to appear magical were locked up. Luckily the magic field offered some semblance of an explanation. The crybaby wanted his innocence explicitly understood. His emotions seemed easily manipulated, and Axel would definitely find a moment soon to tell him that At'tallah had smiled upon him. And then there was the elf woman, who wanted her daughter's safety, that piece of info may also prove particularly useful for emotional manipulation.

    Oren explained they would get their things, probably. This was a pleasant, although brief, moment of hope in this whole rigamarole. Because Oren then started talking about how there was a program where falsely accused prisoners could claim the right to join the order instead. Axel looked around as people started announcing they'd claimed no such privilege. Of course not, many of them, Hugo especially, knew why the elite lawmakers were opposed to them. Others like him, had no desire to answer to such a society, and it's nitpicky rules.

    To this Evan suggested they were being sent on a suicide mission. Axel swallowed uncomfortably. Well, the logic certainly tracked on the surface. No one would miss a lot like them. But still, as others had pointed out, what use could they be? And what incentive did they have to help the order anyways? Oren however did not deny this, as he quickly defended the order, telling they they'd know more soon enough, before going to consult the elf woman. Wasn't that just helpfully unhelpful?

    Yet another elf spoke up, doubting it was suicide, and commenting that fate smiled on him. Axel smiled, and in practice shut his eyes with a small nod. That was going to be his line, but any mention of At'tallah, should get a reverent reaction from someone who had mentioned her so much lately. Besides, there may still be an opening here. The elf then asked Oren of the order's activities until now, though Axel doubted they'd get a straight answer, at least not from Oren. He took another swig from the canteen and passed it to someone else, stepping away from his resting place. Time to play this game. He looked to Arauvir, “Agreed. Surely these events are evidence At'tallah has not forgotten us, the Order must be of some significance to her goals.”
     
  2. Andydemon

    Andydemon Nanomachines, Son!

    Lucas Wolfssegner Ladimoore
    Westreach Prison, Courtyard

    Things escalated quickly. Not long after Lucas stopped to reassure the man who had been brought in along with him, a red haired woman, who was also a Werewolf, appeared and began bluntly lecturing him on how he needed to be strong here. It was hard to agree with how she was talking to someone that was just crying about his predicament, one that he seemingly wasn't in by choice, much like Lucas wasn't, but he had to admit she was right. Whether they should be there or not, this was still a prison, a holding place for criminals, people that could do anything they wanted to anyone they wanted to if their chosen victims were weak enough.

    Lucas noticed the woman glance at him, and even though she didn't say anything to him, her expression appeared to soften upon seeing him. At the very least, Lucas could sense that this woman had some compassion, rather than try to hurt them, she appeared to be looking out for them despite not knowing them. Was she just going easy on Lucas because he looked like a child at the moment, or was it because he too was a Werewolf? Either way, he hoped that he would have a friend here after all, one that wouldn't think differently of him once he told them he was just a Druid. He'd have to come clean about his true form and age soon, appearing young and defenseless would earn him no mercy here, if anything it would bring the opposite.

    Before Lucas had a chance to even say anything more to the woman or the young man she was telling off, one of the guards spoke up and provoked the woman. She responded to this by attacking him, going so far as to let loose her claws and fangs. It didn't take long for the guards to get involved and separate the woman and the guard.

    It was then that two more people arrived at the courtyard, one of them telling everyone to either step forward or return to their cells depending on whether or not their name was called. Much to Lucas's surprise, he was one of the ones called up, even more interesting was that the young man that had also arrived with him and the woman that approached them were also called upon. What could they have possibly wanted with them, especially the two of them that were just recently incarcerated? Not wanting to make assumptions at the moment, Lucas remained silent and did what he was told without hesitation for the time being.

    As if things couldn't be any more of a shock, they were all told that they were being sent to the Order of Griffons by the Emperor himself. Normally with the fact that the Emperor had asked for him by name he'd assume that he must've been found out and was about to be sent back to Lord Ladimoore in the Capital. While he was thankful that that wasn't the case, to be told that he was being given to an Order he had thought had already served its purpose some time ago was every bit of a shock to him.

    Next thing he knew they were brought before the Emperor himself in a completely different part of what was once a town. He wondered if the Emperor recognized him as "Lord Ladimoore's Prized Pet" that went missing years ago, but whether he did or not that particular matter was not addressed, instead he called Lucas and the others out on having potential, but ultimately being corrupted into committing criminal acts, wording that had visibly shocked Lucas to have spoken abut him, especially after they listed him as having committed theft, assault and even assisting in other crimes.

    To have those blatantly wrong things said about him hurt Lucas to a degree, and while he remained silent, his expression showed this. To be arrested for merely being at the wrong place at the wrong time and be told he had been brought in for doing worse than he had ever even considered doing in his travels was nothing short of an insult to everything his Adoptive Mother and later his Mentor in Druidism raised and trained him to be. So much so that he wanted to speak up then and there, but held himself back believing it would make things worse for him in the long run.

    The Emperor had shared words with another man before leaving. As everyone had there cuffs removed, the man introduced himself as Oren, a Recruiter for the aforementioned Order. He offered canteens filled with water to everyone as well as answers. As promised he appeared to answer the questions he was asked to the best of his ability while Lucas went ahead and took one of the canteens, it had been a while since he last had anything to drink. Once he had quenched his thirst and saw an opportunity to ask something himself, a question of his own that crossed his mind that he wanted answered.

    "Oren...Sir. I find it hard to believe that the Order would just pick out people from a prison seemingly at random like this, especially since Henry and myself were both just recently incarcerated, and for far less than the Emperor had stated of us earlier. So...What I'd like to ask is....Why us specifically? How much does the Order really know about us that they would ask for us by name?"
     
    Last edited: Aug 19, 2018
  3. Minteh

    Minteh It's so shiny!

    ~~Petra Telaris~~
    The Golden Crown, Westreach Old Town
    After speaking to Farron, the recruiter was approached by Arauvir, who was quick to ask the man a question. "I understand that you are simply a messenger for those who run the Order. However, I would hope you would know something more beyond our recruitment. If what you say is true, why has the Order allowed the rumor that it was abolished to be perpetuated for so long if there are indeed dangers still lurking? What exactly has the Order been doing all this time?"

    At his words, Petra turned to look at Oren, curious to see what he would give as a response. Arauvir’s question had been something that Petra had given some thought about too, especially after everything Oren seemed to imply about them not being dead, as everyone seemed to believe. If they had never truly been abolished, why did everyone believe they were? Petra had heard some rumours in the past, in small towns or holdings, but why was it that tales of the Order had never progressed into the larger towns? Was it really just a very elaborate lie that nobles had been feeding them?

    Before he had a chance to give an answer, Axel cut in. “Agreed. Surely these events are evidence At'tallah has not forgotten us, the Order must be of some significance to her goals.”

    The mention of the ancient elven goddess seemed to catch Oren off guard, but Petra didn’t put too much thought into his reaction, he was, after all, a human, and likely followed the myth of the Creator rather than the elven gods.

    “As I said before, the leaders of our kingdoms have not helped matters when it comes to rumours about whether we continue to function.” Oren began. He spoke with a neutral tone, but there was an underlying sharp bite to his words. “In truth, demons have never truly died out, and I doubt they ever will. However, sometime after the last major demon horde was defeated, everyone began to believe that demons had been vanquished forever. If you know anything about the Order at all, then you’ll know we were formed solely to deal with the growing numbers of demons that cropped up many centuries ago. With rumours that the demons had been defeated for good, I believe people began to question if we were even needed anymore. After all, with no demons to defeat, what use were we anymore?”

    Oren paused for a moment and a sad look passed over his face. There was a beat of silence before he continued once more. “As you can imagine, our popularity has dwindled over time, and few people even know we still function. Demon attacks are rare these days, and hordes even more so, I guess without that incentive nobody saw the point in offering to join.” A bitter laugh passed his lips. “As for your question on what we’ve been doing for all this time, the answer is simple - doing what we always do, killing some demons.”

    Following his little explanation, the young man, who Petra believed was called Lucas, asked why they specifically had been chosen, expressing his scepticism that they would have been chosen at random.

    Oren gave a light shrug. “Like I said, the Emperor claimed conscription rites for all of you, no matter who you are or what you did, we have to take you regardless. It was odd to get a request to come here though. We’ve offered the rites to prisoners in the past, mostly those holed up in small village dungeons, but I’ve never had the opportunity to come here. Too many guards and too many rules. If I had come here on my own free will they probably would’ve hauled my ass in here before I could get any of you out.”

    After answering his questions, there was little else to do but wait for the cart to arrive. Petra took the time to finally have a long drink of water from the canteen. She had only just set it back down when one of the guards from earlier - who had gone to stand outside since removing everyone’s cuffs - popped his head back in to inform them the cart had finally arrived.

    ***

    Vehlen, Verthall

    The journey out of the prison had not been particularly comfortable, to say the least. Although the cart was large enough to fit them all on, there was not much room between them due to crates full of their personal items taking up a considerable amount of room. Whilst some of the others might have felt cramped, Petra felt positively squashed. The journey from the prison to the small village of Vehlen was relatively quiet. After taking the main route out of Westreach, Oren directed them down a number of smaller, back roads. Whilst this meant they saw few others on the roads, the bumpy, unfinished roads made the journey even more uncomfortable.

    They had been on the move for hours, when finally, just as the sun was beginning to set, they finally saw civilisation. The small village of Vehlen was a farming community for the most part, as evidenced by the expansive fields of crop they had. The village itself was rather small, with only a few small shops and homes. The largest building in the village appeared to be the local inn, which was where Oren finally stopped the cart.

    Stepping down, he started moving for the entrance. “Grab the crate with your name and head inside.” He instructed.

    Thankfully Petra’s crate was near the top, so after quickly grabbing hers, she hurried inside and into the warmth. Oren lingered outside whilst everyone gathered their crates, most likely to ensure no one would make a break for it.

    The inside of the inn was quite homely, with a large open hearth on one side of the room, and a bar counter on the other end, which opened out to a kitchen in the back. Along with a number of smaller tables dotted around the room, there were two long tables in the centre of the room. Although there were only a handful of patrons already in the inn, it did not stop them all from turning to look at who had just entered. And if the eclectic mix of races hadn’t been curious or off-putting enough, then the prison garb they all still wore was bound to garner a few raised brows.

    Moving over to the counter, Oren talked with a grey-haired woman who had come out from the kitchen to see what the noise was. Judging by the way they talked to each other, they had clearly met before and were clearly very amorous with each other at that. After talking for a moment, the grey-haired woman waved them forward.

    “Welcome to the White Rose Inn!” She greeted them in a booming voice which seemed ill-fitting for a woman of such small stature. “My name is Lynnie. Take a seat and I’ll bring you some food out. Don’t worry about payment, Oren already paid for your meals in advance.”

    Oren then lead them over to one of the tables in the corner, away from the prying eyes of the other patrons. Within a few minutes, Lynnie came over to them, bringing two jugs of water with her on her first visit, and then bringing bowls of vegetable broth with her on her second journey. Petra had hoped for something a bit more filling, perhaps something with a little meat, but there was no denying that the broth smelt divine, and would easily be the best thing she had eaten in months.

    Before she left, Oren stopped her once more. “Do you have any rooms available?”

    The woman took a quick glance at the group, before nodding. “We have two on the third floor, but you’ll have to share.”

    Petra made a small shrug to show she didn’t mind, but quietly hoped she wouldn’t get put in a room with Hugo. He had been relatively subdued on the journey here but now looked like he was itching to say something again.

    “Right then,” Lynnie pointed at Axel, Henry, Fallon, Arauvir and Petra, “you three can take the second room on the right, the rest of you take the room on the left. There are two washrooms on that floor too, so if you need a quick clean or a long bath, feel free to do so.”

    With a small nod, Lynnie then took her leave, hurrying behind the counter where she went back to serving. A moment later, Oren rose from his seat and dropped a small sack of gold on the table in front of them. “There are fifteen gold pieces there, so if you want some more food afterwards, or some cheap alcohol, go and order some. I can’t give you any more gold, but if you have any on your belongings, feel free to use that too. If you need me I’ll be talking to Lynnie.” Oren then proceeded to take his leave and walked over to the bar counter, where he was to remain to talk to Lynnie for most of the night.

    After Oren left, Petra worked on devouring the broth they had been bought, which as expected was delicious. Well, maybe it wasn’t that good, but anything other than the leftovers and out of date gruel they had been given at Westreach was a vast improvement. Once she had finished her broth, she also rose from her seat.

    “I’m going to have a bath and then I think I might enjoy a nice long rest in a comfy bed.” She told them with a small laugh. “Try not to cause any trouble.” Whilst her last sentence was directed at the whole group, she winked at Hugo, who grumbled something under his breath.
     
    Last edited: Sep 16, 2018
  4. VampirateMace

    VampirateMace Internet Overlord

    Axel Nicks
    (aka The Grand Wizard Alexandros Brightstone Charlemagne, the Skilled)
    The Golden Crown (Westreach Old Town) > Vehlen, Verthall

    Axel watched keenly as Oren reacted to the forgotten goddess' name. Clearly he did not follow the elven religion, yet he presumed to work for demon hunters, so he probably at least followed the main human religion. Axel was only vaguely aware of what that was though.

    People were still questioning Oren, who was doing his best to answer. Axel kept listening for anything useful, but Oren was going to become a broke record at this rate. Then finally the cart came. . .

    . . . though this turned out to be about as unpleasant as the shackles they'd just shed. Crammed together with people and crates, on bumpy ill-kept roads, it was positively a horrible trip. If anyone had thought they'd jump ship and escape during the cart ride, a thought which had admittedly crossed Axel's mind, they were in for a nasty surprise, since there really wasn't any room to move. The one point of goodness Axel could see in all of this was that he was not seated next Hugo, who in light of this discomfort would probably have killed him just to get the elbow room.

    Finally, near evening, they made it to the village, and came to a inn. Axel slipped his box off the pile as he waited for others to get off, so he could too. The box rattled and clinked madly, indicating the contents of several of his pockets had evidently 'come loose'.

    Patrons looked at them suspiciously as they were shuffled to a counter, and then to a back corner table and the meal Oren had pre-paid for. This pathetic meal turned out to be nothing but water and vegetable broth. Axel paused, muttering some bastardized thanks to the elven gods he didn't believe in. Sure he was hungry, but honestly, this was barely food, and he wasn't about to abandon his facade. At least it tasted years fresher then the 'soup' the prison had been serving them though, which some had even speculated got it's occasional meat from those that died there. But that would be illegal, right? Right?

    It was only then that Oren thought to secure rooms for them. Ah, excellent planner, this man. Axel smirked, he would take advantage of this later, probably. The woman, Lynnie apparently, gave them directions and pointed out they were free to bathe. Petra was quick to finished her broth take up this offer of private baths and real beds. Axel noted her gaze lingered on Hugo, so he could probably get her on his side where he was concerned. Axel got up himself, commenting, “Yeah that sounds pretty good,” as he collected his crate once more. He had no intention of going to bed just yet, but no one needed to know what he planned to do after his bath. Not that he even had a plan.

    Alone in the bathroom, for once, he discard his prison clothes and pried open the crate as he waited on the water. The mass of rumpled fabric and trinkets and scattered cards was an annoying sight. Someone had apparently thought to search his clothes, not that he'd had anything technically illegal, and they clearly couldn't be bothered to put things back as they went. He hung his robes on the provided hooks and and then started to sort his belongings, fussing somewhat whenever he found a broken vial or bent card.

    He tried to let his frustrations go as he sunk into the hot water. The state of his belonging and still being somewhat cooped up with other prisoners, plus basically still being a prisoner, were all aggravating. But he could count his blessings too, slavery to The Order was probably better then prison, and would probably shelter him from going back as long as he played along, though he could probably run off too once the time was right, he wasn't eating prison soup anymore, and best of all, he wasn't being roomed with Hugo.

    Afterward, Axel redressed, noting by the waistline that he'd lost weight in prison, between the horrific soup, regular fighting, and running from Hugo, that was no surprise. Next he hooked his, thankfully not stolen, large gold ankh earrings through the holes in his lobes. Then he started restocking his pockets; vials and tricks in secret pockets, trinkets in more obvious ones, what few bits of contraband he'd gotten in prison in a outer pocket as well, and his precious deck of cards in the main inner pocket. He'd not bothered to count them. It didn't matter if they were all there, as long as it looked right. His readings were complete hokum anyways, but if enough cards went missing, people would start to notice he wasn't playing with a full deck.

    Feeling fairly refreshed, he made his way back downstairs. He'd love to get right back to his hustle, but didn't expect the inn's other patrons to want to have anything to do with a strangers after seeing a large group of prisoners come in. So instead he decided to relax. He found himself a small table, out of the way, and sat down. He took the deck of cards from his inner pocket and started to shuffle them absently while he watched the remaining patrons in the room. Observing people was basically a profession and a hobby at this point.
     

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