Antagonist’s Anarchy: Derived from Dianthus

[DrowArchmage]

Jason wasnt sure what would happen in this town, with Iskola gone, he was pretty much at the mercy of the drunk. Never the one to give up entirely, Jason decided that he might move off in the direction of the barracks and try his luck with the Captain. See if any gear could be restored. He looked to Telryn with a raised eyebrow.What an odd fellow, he'd ask him if he wanted to come along, but seeing as how everyone else pretty much hates him...the odds were not looking the best that Telryn wouldnt just knock him out and tie him up.

[Ivelliis]

Telryn

As the old man headed towards the inn, Telryn noticed Jason turn in the opposite direction. Glancing at the sign, he noticed it was the direction of the barracks.

"We should head to the barracks, I think?" He said, "Come Jason, we shall both go. I doubt the guard knows of what happened in Talryr yet, but even so we should inform them."

He didn't know whether it was a lack of trust, or whether he wanted to give the 'bandit' a chance, that made him ask for Jason's company. Either way, perhaps on his own more could be found out about this mysterious character.

Telryn turned to the others. "We'll be back in the inn before you know it."

[DrowArchmage]

Jason tired to hide his look of total suprise with a small smile.

I think that would be a fine idea good sir. If you'd like to lead the way i would be more than willing to accompany you, because i do indeed believe that the gaurds should be warned before a similar disaster befalls them.

He dusted off his clothes,though it did almost no good, and gestured grandly in the direction of the barracks.

Lets just not tell them of my former profession eh? I've seen enough violence for quite some time.

[Ivelliis]

Telryn

"No need to dust off your clothes, we're not seeing royalty. We all look like we've been dragged through a hedge backwards anyway."

"And don't worry, we'll keep your 'former profession' as you put it between us. I can't say the others will agree but such as life. "

The two men walked towards the barracks, which was just on the edge of the town square. The stone building (one of the few fully-stone buildings) had the door firmly closed, with a sign on top labelling it the barracks.

Pushing the door open Telryn stepped through first, holding it for his 'companion'.

It was a fairly large room, with chairs and tables spread about. At the back Telryn noticed stairs leading down into a below-ground floor.

"Haven't seen you about here before," A guard asked, sat down on one of the chairs, "What can the guard captain do for you?"

[DrowArchmage]

Jason smiled and nodded at Telryn for holding the door and turned his attention to the gaurd in the chair. He seemed in very good shape, and did not appear to be very old at all, maybe in his middle thirties. His tone seemed very neutral if not friendly, and Jason started to like the man immidiatley. Jason opend his mouth, closed it again, in order to quickly arrange his thoughts, and spoke carefully.

Good Captain, my name is Jason Fain. Jason DeAngello Fain.

Jason bowed a little lower than normal and looked to Telryn for his part.

[dplax]

Nivram

Nivram followed the old man towards the 'Fox and Hare' entering after him. He did not take much note of who or what was happening inside of the inn, heading instead directly towards the bar. Behind the bar was the stereotypical tavern owner, fat, balding and in his fifties.

Nivram placed about half-dozen small copper coins on the counter.

"What's the strongest this can get me?"

[Calaethis Dragonsbane]

Meanwhile, Tod had been left to his own devices and shrugged as the others walked off...

...If they were going to abandon him, so be it. With that, he headed directly for a shop - the blacksmiths...

[Legolas]

Ydalon

Barracks, inn and smithy. The boy looked down the third and final path; towards the temple.
He was not about to acknowledge that other destination. The mere thought might make his eyes water like a squeaky village pump, and his nose itch until he lacked the energy to make it explode yet again.
The temple then. Clearly a recent fancy, constructed more to keep the Lords content than to practice actual worship. It might be a refuge, but he expected no ruffians there tonight. It could also be a place to store tribute and that was always worth investigating. There came a gleam to his eyes.

Whistling a merry tune, he brushed off and straightened his finest dusty yellowed white shirt before embarking on a pilgrimmage.

[dplax]

Nivram

Life was good again. Life was merry and full of shifting colours. The booze was good and the quantity it came in even better. Finally after that dusthole of a town they had been in before and the long trek through the wilderness Nivram was content again. He did not need much, just some quality booze and then he and the booze could have some quality "us" time.

A barfight could have broken out, assassins could have entered the bar, the only thing which could bring Nivram out of his happy state would be a direct agression against the source of his contentment, the three bottles of rice vodka in front of him. No one even came near them.

Only one bottle had been finished and the second barely even opened. The night was still young and Nivram had all the company he wanted and needed.

[dplax]

Nivram

One last sip then holding the bottle upside down, hoping for a few more drops to fall. But it is finished. It's not that he's still actually firsty, and it's certainly not the need for more alcohol, for he is already quite drunk. It's just that feeling of not wanting a good feeling to end, not yet wanting to move along, trying to delay the inevitable. The feeling doesn't last long and swiftly drifts away, leaving only hazy, barely coherent thoughts behind.


It is thus, slowly swaying in his chair, that the drunk man's gaze sweeps over a flash of gold among two floorboards. It does not grab his attention, not much can in his current state. A sympathetic barmaid walks by and seeing the empty bottles in front of Nivram sends a questioning glance his way. Nivram shakes his head and opens his purse above the table. Nothing falls out. The barmaid laughs and moves along.

Hours pass and Nivram just sits in his chair, deeply lost in thought, almost asleep, but too drunk to be able to find a comfortable position to fall asleep in. Eventually he falls asleep, half-slumped on the table.

He wakes to a rough hand shaking him. He tries to blink away the haze blanketing his eyes, but he can not make out the face of the man…woman…whatever in front of him. A pair of hands takes one of his hands and places something in his palm, closing his fingers over it.

“It’s best not to leave things like this laying around the floor my friend”, the voice, definitely female, says. “Sweet dreams,” it continues as Nivram swiftly falls back to sleep.

The morning was far away and painful as the innkeep poured buckets of water over those who had fallen asleep in his establishment during the night. Still, Nivram had seen worse, travellers being thrown pennyless from taverns for falling asleep. At least the owner had waited for the morning here.

He steps into the sunlight outside the inn, trying to keep the contents of his stomach down. It is only then that he notices that he is clutching a gold coin in his hands. It must be from some far away land, for Nivram had never seen its like before. Words in some foreign language adorn one side with a tree in the middle, and on the other side…

The coin drops from Nivram’s hands as he sees the face on the other side of the coin. He bends down, fighting back the dizzyness from the hangover and picks it up. On further inspection he notes that there are a few dissimilarities, but still the resemblance is uncanny. Could it really be Isokla or someone related to her who was pictured on the coin?

Could this be fate intervening, in having an honest person come around and hand him the coin? Could it be some god handing him the coin, trying to send a message? Nivram had never been a believer. Any belief he had had while younger had evaporated after all he and those he cared for had gone through. It had to be fate then. Fate must want him to…to…to what? Nivram didn’t have a clear answer, but Isokla might have. Now that was an interesting thought. It might have come since she was pictured on that coin…

The coin might have been an instrument of fate, but it was also the only money Nivram had and thus was promptly used to purchase supplies for the journey Nivram had suddenly decided he needed to undertake. Freeing Isokla from the evil clutches of the bandits wasn’t going to be easy, so ample amounts of supplies were going to be needed. After much haggling, the gold coin bought three dozen bottles of quality vodka and food for a fortnight.

Nivram would have to ration himself to a bottle a day…

It was only several hours after setting off that the alcohol cleared his mind and he started wondering whether the face on the coin had really resembled Isokla or whether it had been someone else. But his mind was made up…and besides he had the perfect liquid medicine for dispelling doubt.