Difference between revisions of "Darzoni/CampaignsReflectionsS4"

Revision as of 08:06, 5 April 2010

Session 4 of Reflections.

Back to Darzoni
Back to DarzoniDarzoni/CampaignsReflectionsS4/Campaigns
Back to DarzoniDarzoni/CampaignsReflectionsS4/CampaignsReflections

This trail has been well worn over the past week or so. Looks like they've been dragging crates from the shoreline to here.
So the path to the bandit lair is clear.

And at the lead of the Path is the Dawn Solar Sarlk, hulking on his back a large clothed package. Truth to be told, it's more long than large, and it's frighteningly ressemble like a pole. His arms are resting on it, the 'pole' resting behind his neck as he tread onward, following the path to the bandit lair. The big man is bright and smiling.

Hulen and Rynel walk along. "So it was you and your sister, eh?"
"Yep."
"..."

"Your sister's cute." Sarlk comments, looking back. Cute, but a bit fucked up in the head.

Ah, here's the bandit camp. With boxes and stuff of... seafarer stuff? And a man with a golden sword? What's going on around here?

The Spearman keep walking onward until he stop, peering ahead at the bandit camp, his eyes narrowing at what he see. Crates, boxes...seafarer stuff? Not to mention some guy with a golden sword?
Oh no, don't tell him that...one of them are bandits?

The monk keeps his hands folded in his robes, and raises an eyebrow at the golden sword.

Man with a golden sword?! PFFFFT! Far too simple a description!
Nay, the man in question is tall. That's pretty obvious. Tall and fairly slender. Simply, yet fairly flamboyantly dressed. Weathered boots, well-made trousers, and a well-crafted breastplate. Simple thing, really. Been dulled down, shinewise, and it's pretty obviously worn. The sword...now, the sword is the interesting thing. Hard to see the blade. It's sheathed, ye see, in a long leather case, and casully worn horizontal to the back. Anyways. Tanned skin, longish black hair with a few off streaks off color, all tied up in a ponytail, a few scarves and the like worn around the head and arms. And he's bent over a large rock, discussing something with one of the other bandits, gesturing to a map seriously and then nodding at the bandit's response. Just another day in the life of a bandit!

The monk glances at Sarlk for direction, again gesturing to the man with the sword.

The Spearman himself is not terribly fancy clothed. He's tall, tanned and has an heavy figure and built. He has a strong jaw, the rest of his face having some kind of rough beauty. He's wearing an cloak with an sleeveless shirt and leather armor underearth. Pants...are pants, just plain regular ones. It's been a long time that he lost his Order's clothes, thanks to countless fights, and decided to just go with...simpler stuff. Then again, thoses are just his traveling clothes.
In either cases, Sarlk is simply looking ahead, eyes narrowed. He look back at his Circlemates. "Let's go."

The monk, Whisper, nods to Sarlk.

Hulen nods.
"Just a word of advice...don't stand directly in front of me."
By the way, he looks relatively. Plain. An unassuming guy with a normal, if mildly muscular and lithe figure, plain clothing and such. A few inkstains on the hands, but still a pretty plain-looking guy. You know, except for the white jade serpent-sting staff and all.

Whisper looks... uh... like a monk, wearing monkish robes tied at the waist.

The gumbies look at the newcomers... well, they had been warned somewhat of weirdos using magic powers by their comrades. The guys who ran point to them. "Them, boss! They're the ones who killed Favo, Ecchi, and Turk."

At the yell from the survivors of the earlier little fracas, the Boss turns, a half-lidded gaze sweeping over the newcomers. An eyebrow is half raised, and then the man turns, nodding to his subordinate, who just rolls maps up and carefully tucks them away in a sealed tube, then ghosts off into the camp.
"Well, well, well. We don't get strangers often. So, just what are you fine lords and ladies doing in my humble camp, hmmmm?"
The tone is jovial, and the boss is smiling, although...well, his dark green eyes are disturbingly flat. AKA...the smile ain't reaching his eyes.

Sarlk's figure is serious as he strides onward, his arms still resting on that cloth covered pole on his shoulders.
"Your bandits has attacked an convoy that were headed toward the nearest town." Insert an name here. He swings the thing over his shoulder and lower it next to his side, his eyes locked in the 'Boss's. "You will stop raiding people, right this instant, or you will be dealt with."
Sarlk? Diplomatic? Pfft.

That's fine. Diplomacy with cruel bandits is a blade. Or a fist, as the case may be. Hulen nods. There's nothing to add to that speech.

Whisper folds his arms and attempts to look stern as well.
Whisper /attempts/ to look stern. Depending on your viewpoint, he could look like he's constipated instead.

There's a small vision as Sarlk walks up to Wolf, a flash of the distant past as your mind is sent reeeling backwards, as the man before Wolf looks instantly different with a massive mechanical thing behind him, but oddly familiar.

There's another eyebrow raised, and the boss turns, eyeing the party, casually leaning against the table he's at. A hand idly plays with the ends of the long black scarf tied around his head, hmmming slightly. And then cocks his head to the side. "...Mmmmmmm. Lemme think about that." The boss stares at Sarlk intently for a moment, then beams happily adns tands up, clapping his hands. "Howsabout This! Darzoni/CampaignsReflectionsS4/I/...will keep doing what I choose to do...and YOU...hmmm...How do I put this?" The man scratches his head, then snaps his fingers. "Ah. Right. You take your bundle and your attitude, sail to Onyx, then impale said bundle where the sun doesn't shine. Yes, yes, I do believe that'd be much more to my liking. After all, I take orders from no man." The bandit king just sits there, smirking infuriatingly.

Hulen sighs.
"You had a chance, really, but he doesn't take being insulted well."

Sarlk listen the replie with an stern look in his face. He kinda excepted that to happen. Bandit Lords don't really bow down to the first large guy with a weapon that tell them to stop doing their evil ways. They all need a little...convincing.
The Spearmean reach down to the cloth and pull it off violently, causing an slight flash of light as the Orichalcum spear is deployed for all to see. The warrior swing his weapon over his shoulder without efforts, giving a big grin. "Last chance. Stop your actions or suffer. 'Cause the one that's more likely to have something painfull shoved in his rear in this case is you."

Whisper steps forward and pulls out a pad of paper and pen. He holds the pad so that the bandits can read. <Are you aware of the consequences your actions have had on the good people of insert-town-name-here? Are you aware that you are depriving them of their livelyhood, their attempts to survive? This isn't just affecting rich merchants, but the townspeople as well. And we have been sent here to convince you to stop. We would rather not have any confrontations, but if it is necessary... There is no need for bloodshed. Simply stop your evil ways, and we will leave you be.>

The Bandit yawns, eyes half-lidding as he eyes Sarlk. "Sorry. Despite what you and your siblings do back in the Court, I'm not interested." The boss stops as Whisper steps up, reading along with interest. The majority of the bandits blink, then nudge their neighbors, looking at each other and shrugging. A couple of them, along with the boss, read on. The bandit lord shrugs, eyeing those of his crew who are actually reading, and they glance at him and shrug. One of the other, non-comprehending bandits coughs slightly, and scratches his head. ".....Erm...What the heck is that?"
...Think about it. It's a bandit crew out of the Western Isles. Most of them don't actually read much anyways...and those that do can't read whatever the heck Whisper said. The chief yawns lazily, scratching his chin.
"Mmmm. Yes, yes, that's very nice and all. You, erm, do realize most of my men have no idea what that chicken scratch is, right?"
The bandits kind of look around like they don't know what's going on...

Hulen says, "For some reason, I'm not very surprised..."

Whisper shrugs. And then writes, <But you are their leader, yes? So you must be intelligent enough to understand me. And intelligent enough to know that what you're doing cannot continue indefinitely.>

"The Court?" Sarlk answers, blinking a moment, trying to understand what the heck did he just meant by that. Wait, wait, that guy think he's an dragon-blooded! Interesting!
He peer over at Whisper and his writing, grunting out an: "Stop that. You can't see that they don't understand a frickin' word of what your writin' about?"
The Spearman returns his attention to the boss. "So that's your final word?"

Virgil mmmmms, leaning back and popping his neck comfortably as he chats amiably with Whisper.
"Oh, please. We're not going to be sticking around here. And I fail to see why a prime load of drugs and slaves is actually NEEDED by any of the locals around here. I mean, pfft, don't they have something better to do than use that crap? Sheesh. And they can do their own work."
The boss pauses, then glances at Sarlk, chuckling slightly.
"Go have relations with a shark and your brother, Houseboy."
...Yeaaaah. Authority figure, Boss, not working.

Sarlk pause at that, tilting his head a bit, his head working a bit in his head at what that new info means.
"An Guild Caravan?" he slowly lets out, after a burst of genius.

"I believe the point is that we found your men having slaughtered a large number of innocents. Apparently those that couldn't defend themselves, based on the skills of your men."
Hulen sighs.
"Also, I /really/ suggest not insulting him. Really."

Hulen and Sarlk get impressions of this guy from the first age, garbed in robes marking a priest of the Unconquered Sun, giving sermons to the people of Jade-Upon-The-River.

Hulen suddenly...blinks. Ow, mind-breakage. The conflicting images of present and just-remembered past are very conflicting and such.
Hulen blinks multiple times, very quickly, that is.

The bandits are still watching Whisper, waiting for the monk to do... something.

Whisper scratches his head, and then pantomimes for the bandits to lay down their swords (or other weapons).

The bandits get even -more- confused. Some of them sit down and hold their heads. Others sharpen their swords, some just put their swords down.

Apparently...he's forgotten his 'guests' are there.
After a moment, he blinks, turning to look at them, raising an eyebrow. "...What, you lot are still here? Sheeesh, you in bed with the Guild or what?" Puff puff puff. "Mind, at least the tobacco is normal. The rest of it...Pfeh. Rot the mind." Puff Puff. "Refreshing."
The boss raises an eyebrow as he glances to the side, watching Whisper. Then turns glancing at his men. A couple cough, and then look a bit sheepish, Virgil raising an eyebrow. "......Bakas." Puff. And, then, Virgil turns back to Whisper, coughing meaningfully. "Erm, would you stop that? It's rather rude."

Hulen looks from Whisper to Virgil. And again.
"I think we should mention that we're here because of a /slaughter/, not the Guild. Frankly, for all Darzoni/CampaignsReflectionsS4/I/ care, the Guild can go hang. It's the slaughter that interests me at this point, and stopping further ones."

Whisper attempts to communicate so that all can understand. He draws a crude guild symbol, and then puts a big X over it, pointing to himself and the rest of his compatriots.

Sarlk suddenly let out a grunt, holding an hand to his head at the sudden vision, completly ignoring, ironicaly enough, the Bandit boss for a good moment, closing his eyes. Yes, it was Darzoni/CampaignsReflectionsS4/THAT/ guy right there.
"So your one of us." Sarlk mutters, standing up right again. He's not reacting pretty hard to the insultes of the rogues for the good and simple reason he /din't heard them/. "You are One, too. I'm sure of it." He nods. "We don't come for the guild. All we saw was an massacre."

Rynel mutters something about a half-dozen arrows and Mr. Bandit King's spleen.

Whisper attempts to draw a mess of stick-farmers, and writes the words 'NO KILL' in big letters on the paper, showing it to the bandits.

A gaggle of bandits watch Whisper and clap! "NAh! We don't kill farmers... Just Guild bastards trying to sell heroin to 'em."

Hulen says, "...oh."

Rynel kicks himself. No, seriously, he can do it, and he does. "...Great. We killed the -good- guys."

Whisper blinks in surprise.

The bandit lets out another yawn, taking a deep puff on the pipe. And then cricks his neck again. "Oh, please. You live in this day and age, and ye cannae see beyond what your eyes tell ya? Fools, the lot of ya. I tell ya again. We killed no innocents, ya Guild Lovin' Houseboy." The bandit king leans down, idly tapping the pipe out, then calmly tucks the pipe away in it's case, then slips that back into it's pouch. "Soooooo. Is this the point where ye get all angsty and claim the Dynasty's right to execute anyone you dislike, or is this the point where I get to see if yer blood really is as blue as the Houses claim?" The bandit, it must be noted, is still smirking. And then rolls his eyes.
And begins to clap ironically. "Way to go."

Hulen nods to Rynel.
"I think we've made a great mistake."

Rynel glares angrily at the bandit. "I've got no affiliation with any houses, not any more."

Hulen sighs.
"We are neither Guild nor Dynasts...is this proof enough?"
And then...well, the Twilight mark glows bright on his head.
"It should be."

Sarlk look back at his Circle Mates, perticularly Hulen. "Oh, no shit?" He turn back around and lower his spear, pointing at Virgil.
"And for your /information/, we're not part of thoses stupid Dynasts or thoses bastards of the Guild. You want some proof?"
The Warrior grab his spear with boths hand and execute an few impressive spins infront of himself and Darzoni/CampaignsReflectionsS4/SLAM/ it down to the ground next to him. That's about when it's happens.
The Dawn Caste Mark appears on his forhead as he point at the man again.
"And if I'm damned right, you are one of us."

The Zenith Caste mark glows on the forehead of the monk... Pretty colors. Wheee!

Bwaaaaaah! Rynel lights up his Eclipse caste mark on his forehead.

The bandits are thinking to themselves that... well, hey, these guys can't be so bad, they're like the Boss!

Wolf eyes Sarlk. Oh. Okay. So he's not getting ready to fight. However....Like /hell/ he's going to let THAT challenge go unanswered. The bandit raises an eyebrow...and then launches forwards a bit, the large sword on his back clearing it's sheathe in a glitter of blue-tinted gold, as well as a trail of white fire, said bandit king attempting to beat the little display that the brute with the spear put on. And smirking as he grounds his sword in front of him, a few knicks in the ground sliced full through.

As for the forehead...well, that's glittering with a large golden circle, burning from beneath the headband that the bandit was wearing. And, just to annoy them...he smirks. A lot. "Bah. Suppose I'll introduce myself to ya, easters. I'm known as the Wolf of the West." What, you want his real name? Pffft.

Rynel snorts. "Yeah, okay." He finally puts his bow away.

Hulen bows.
"Hulen zan-Gon. I'm sure we can put this misunderstanding behind us...now that all has been explained. It /has/, hasn't it?"
Polite, yes. Stupid, no.

"Wolf of the West. I'll call you 'Wolf'." Sarlk replies, grinning wide at the little display, resting the Spaer over his shoulder.
"I'm Sarlk. Nothing more, Nothing else."

Whisper writes 'Whisper' on his pad, and then points to himself.

Rynel says simply, "Rynel."

There's... somebody hiding nearby, who just... made a bit of noise. In a bush.

Well. Glad that's all worked out. The pirate nods at his crew, who start putting away their weapons and the like. As for Wolf of the West, he calmly lights his pipe again, leaning back, watching a couple of seagulls. "Mmmmm. Well. Glad we've worked that all out. Seagulls are graceful, neh?" Yes, Wolf is very involved with lighting his pipe, and ignoring the surroundings.

Rynel goes to investigate!
... With his bow.

Hulen goes, too. With his staff...and a hope it won't be needed, because...uh, just because.

Whisper writes on his pad, and shows it to Virgil,

Sarlk keep grinning. Yeah, glad they DID worked things out.
However, his keen eyes notices something in the nearby bushes. He blinks, snaping his gaze over the bush and charges toward it, raising his spear high...and Darzoni/CampaignsReflectionsS4/DIVE/ it right before the bush. Not inside, just before it.

Rynel's sister emerges from the bushes...

Rynel lowers his bow and sighs. Loudly. "What're you doing here?"

Sasaki is still wearing that nifty power armor thing... she looks uh, scared. Very scared. "You're all..."
She's a hot chick in armor.
And she's Rynel's sister. Dilemmas, eh?

Rynel says sarcastically, "Yeah, well, fate and too much sun kind of do that to you."

Hulen sighs.
"I'm sorry, really...if you're willing to listen, I can assure you that we're not quite how you might think."

Annnnnnnd, The Wolf has, apparently, dissapeared. To reappear right next to the newcomer. The cute newcomer. "Now, now, tis truly not as bad a thing as you might think. After all, we're hardly sitting here sacrificing small children to the demons that lurk at the floor of the ocean, hmmm? My name is Wolf. Tis truly a pleasure to meet you, milady. A seat? Something to drink? Tisn't much, but my crew and I do try."
...Cheesy? Effective? What do YOU, the viewers at home think?

Sarlk blinks, raising an eyebrow at just whoe came out of the bushes. He dig out his spear and unsling it over his shoulder...And peers at Wolf hitting on the girl. That's just bad mojo, there.
But it's also better than HER hitting on her BROTHER again.

Whisper draws a picture of Virgil and Rynel's sis holding hands, adds little hearts over it, and shows the pic to Rynel.

Rynel rolls his eyes at Whisper's picture.

Hulen sighs at Wolf. He was /going/ to get to that, but...gah.
"Please, do come inside. Standing her in a cave entrance...well, it's not the best place."

Staren rolls her eyes at Wolf, wherever she is.

Whisper draws a picture of cute little bunnies, rainbows, and flowers, and then gestures at the group, attempting to communicate non-evilness.
And shows the pic to the sister, that is.

Sasaki is kind of dazed by the whole situation... and sits down... "I think I need to lay down awhile..." She blows Wolf off.

Hulen nods.
"Of course. It's a lot to hit a person with at once, obviously. We'll do anything we can to make your stay here comfortable." He looks for a moment to everyone else.
"Won't we?"

Whisper nods his head emphatically. He pulls out a water canteen, and offers it to her.

Sasaki looks at the picture and comprehends what Whisper is trying to communicate... "Oh, you're not bad people? My world is shattered! They lied...!" She starts crying.

Sarlk stares at that a moment, blinking, scratching his head. That was kind of easy, he think.

Whisper writes so that only Sarlk can see. <Girls empathize with cute bunnies.>

Sasaki takes the water skin and drinks a bit.

Hulen looks alarmed for a moment.
"Please, please, don't be so upset...yes, we're not bad people. I like to think we try very hard not to be. And you're not a bad person, of course, so we understand each other, yes? Obviously other people may not, but if you want, we offer our hospitality to you. We were on our way back home anyway."
As owner of the Manse, he's /allowed/ to offer that. No arguing, Rynel.

Rynel mentally groans. First he kills some bandits who were good, then they make his sister cry, AND offer her room and board. This day is going great. He tries to calm her down.

The Wolf blinks a few times, then stares at the bunnies. Ahhhh...okay....Hot as hell, but maaaaayyybe a gear or two short, neh? That mental aproximation done, Wolf sighs mentally, a little 'the things I do for women' rant running through his head as he coughs meaningfully, glancing over his shoulder at the watching crew. A few of whom guiltily put away canteens and minor snackfood. Anways. A larger chair is hauled over by a group of 'em, as well as a bottle of wine (decent vintage) and a glass. Hey, it's amazing what you can haul out of a caravan. And it's not like Wolf and his crew are hauling ALL of this stuff back.

The Dawn Solar eyes Whisper, an eyebrow still raised. Bunnies nothing, that's still pretty damn weird. He wish that /all/ Dragon-Blooded were that easy to break down. The 'big man' let himself fall on the ground, resting his spear on his lap, his legs crossed, allowing the other idiots taking care of the woman. Him? He's just busy staring into space.

Rynel says, "They lie to everyone, Sasaki, to manipulate us into helping them gain power. Nobody meant to hurt you. Just, please, calm down so we can work this whole situation out, and everything will turn out okay."

Sasaki sniffles. "Okay big Brother..."

Whisper rubs his chin, and then digs around in his robe, pulling out a couple paper-wrapped sweets. Given he's a monk, they're likely all he's got in the candy department. He places them in his palm, and offers them to her, hoping it might help a little.

Hulen smiles. That's sorted out, then.
"You'll love our home, I'm sure. It's a beautiful town, and the Manse is...going to be a wonder. Well, it already is, but it's been weakened. And I'm sure you'll like Damon."
As much as anyone else does, anyway. After this, she'll probably accept that a raksha can be good. As for a beautiful town...well, okay, a mild exaggeration. Nice people, though.

Sasaki sighs... "Okay... sorry... I have figure things out.

Hulen nods.
"Of course. You've been given a shock, that's understandable. You certainly deserve time to figure things out."

Sasaki stands up. "Where are my manners! I am Ragara Sasaki, Aspect of Air." She bows in a very formal and polite Realm fashion.

Whisper flips back to the page where he wrote his name on before, and shows it to her.

Hulen bows in return.
"You already know my name."
But that's no reason /not/ to be polite, yes?

Sarlk's blink and refocus, leaving the sanctity of the contepmlation of his single cerebral gear, to look up at the Power Armored girl. He let out a grunt, get back to his feets, cracking his knuckles, slowly walking away from the gathering of people...letting THEM handle the girl. Grah!