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Post by Travis Huntman on Oct 13, 2010 20:56:01 GMT -5
"What?"
The one-eye man was startled by the tapping of the bartender's hand on his shoulder. Realizing it wasn't any one of real authority, the murderer recomposed himself, though still showed signs of paranoia. He gave the bartender a glance that he didn't want to be bothered with, prompting the bar owner to walk away.
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"So, the sage was right," thought the Ranger, delightful that his information was right along.
Travis was plotting how he was going to take out Ivan without creating any comotion. The bar was a powder keg; high tensions and drunk men don't make a great combination, and while Ivan was indeed a wanted man, capturing him could ignite a spark that'll create more injury than good. Besides, news about the malivoious deeds of this man haven't even reached these part of the land, thus making a scene with the authorities complicated.
Then again, a bar fight would be the perfect cover to grab the convict. It would be part of the chaos, no one would know. Well, except for Miss Sexual Harashment and her friend, everyone was intoxicated.
Thankfully, he didn't have to wait long for keg to explode. Soon enough, another drunk bastard went too far in gloping the woman (This is why Travis refuses to drink), causing her to fight back. Another woman, who was quite pretty, was also harashed by an intoxicated man, which caused a tall man, must of been 6'5, to pull an axe on him. Meanwhile, a giant man walked into the bar and was immediately forced into brawl.
While this madness prosued, Travis swiftly ran up to Ivan, clotheslining him in the throat with his forearm, which caused the confused murderer to fall flat on his back. The ranger then carried Ivan to a room and rammed him on the wall, pinning him from escape.
"Ivan Polisis, wanted for the account of rape and murder of Elizabeth Walker," stated Travis, "100 gallons for his head, 200 gallons if captured alive. Now, I'm not so sure why this woman is so important that you have a steep price on your head, but what you did was unjustified and deserves reclaimation."
The fiend merely shook his head and smiled, "I knew I was going to get caught for my actions. But it doesn't matter, the end is near anyways. Soon, the world, just like this bar, will erupt in the flames of chaos."
Puzzled, Travis replied to the sickman's words, "What do you mean 'the end is near?' Why does it deal with the violation of the virgity and life of an innocent woman?"
Ivan merely laughed, "It doesn't, just flows with the madness."
Suddenly, the convict drew a dagger and tried to stab Travis with it, but the Ranger was quick to block the attack, grabbing Ivan's weapon arm and dislocating with swift precision. However, the disarmed criminal made a unhonorable shot with his knee at the Ranger's groin, promptly Travis to fall on the ground and allowing the madman to escape into the crowd of violence.
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Post by Clarissa Everdeen on Oct 13, 2010 21:21:44 GMT -5
She calmly rose from her seat and brushed her hair behind one ear. The situation had become unruly, and people were fighting literally on all sides. The closeness of the people made her a bit uncomfortable, a bit unsure if her incantations would be fully realized in such a small area. Once a drunken punch was sent her way, which she barely managed to step out of the way of, her doubts were set aside. Her spells will work.
She quickly unhooked the clasp at her neck and placed her cloak on the bar. Staff at hand, she planted her feet firmly to the ground and started mumbling quietly to herself. At a glance, she merely looked like an agitated woman muttering curses under her breath. But as the fist-sized crystal embedded into the white wood of her staff resonated a bright blue light, it was clear there was more to her muttering than just angry banter.
Clarissa's eyes darted to Aria for a split second, mentally measuring the distance between herself and the werecat. Another man threw his fist in the air, directing it in Aria's direction. Clarissa's chant stopped, and she swung her own hand in the direction of the man. From her outstretched palm, a pillar of water erupted and surrounded itself around the attacker's limb.
She had stopped him mid punch, and Clarissa relished in his expression of fear and confusion. The water slowly began to creep up his arm, reaching for his face and chest, "I suggest," she directed this to those who could hear, "You all calm down. That is," a small branch of water, like the claw of an animal, sprouted from the water and reached towards the man's nose, "Unless you want lungs full of water."
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Post by Tadala Dynas on Oct 13, 2010 22:57:27 GMT -5
Tadala tried to push the memories back, they should never see the light of day again. Not after what happened to her family... Shaking herself mentally she focused on the Werecat's hand on her arm. It was gentle but strong. She could of fought back, she had the skill as a Tyrs but the touch of both men scared her and warmed her at the same time. Then the Werecat, Ulquir she noticed, pulled her to him before putting his body in front of her own.
When the drunk left Tadala looked up to Ulquir, "Thank you. I'm sorry... I froze... It's just... I mean..."
Tadala turned away. The memories were coming back. She had to shove them back in a box and hide it. She needed some air but she wasn't about to go back outside. While she loved storms, she hated getting wet unless it was to bathe. "I need some air, excuse me."
And that was it. Tadala started walking away, toward the room she has rented for the night.
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Post by Ulquir Kats'n on Oct 14, 2010 9:57:43 GMT -5
Ulquir frowned. Such a nervous one, Tadala was. He had never noticed it before, since he did not socialize often with the rest of his clan. Most werecats had a rather feisty, ferocious and aggressive nature, himself included sometimes. But she was different. Perhaps because she was to be shaman, and figured she had to be a little more peaceful than the rest of them. He supposed it was quite plausible to think that way, although the shaman, he knew, would not forever be excluded from battle, though it was true that nothing had happened as of late and the world's inhabitants were getting along rather well.
A woman's soft chanting made his head turn, and he saw a woman muttering under her breath. He smiled thinly, amused. These song-like words he had heard once before, he believed. Magic...
Sure enough, moments later the woman halted the punch of a man, threatening him with a terrifyingly claw-like tendril of water. "How interesting..." He had seen water magic before, but not quite anything like this. The magic he had witnessed had made the water in a lake rise to form a huge wave. Yes, nothing like this. What he had seen when he was a child... was nothing like this.
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Post by Valcyn Amora on Oct 16, 2010 21:39:49 GMT -5
Valcyn ran along the countryside, for no particular reason. She just enjoyed running in her wolf form. But she was starting to get hungry. She sighed and stopped running. She had gone quite a ways, but she didn't mind. She would just run back later. She shifted into human form, then went into a nearby bar, The Dragon's Keep. She didn't particularly like bars, as they seemed to host shady characters more often than not, but she was hungry and thirsty and didn't see anywhere else. Besides, she was confident she could hold her own in a bar fight. When she went in, she ordered some food and sat down to wait for it, twirling her dagger in her hand. After a moment, Valcyn stiffened, and she smelled again to make sure she was correct. Vampire. In this place....And Werecats. Great. Just Great. She shook her head, then got up to go towards the bar, to see if she could locate the Vampire and Werecats unobtrusively.
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Post by Scipio Varick on Oct 16, 2010 22:10:19 GMT -5
Scipio merely grunted in response, feeling, as was typical of him, not much in the mood for socializing. He did, however, follow the barkeep around the ensuing fray, cursing loudly as one of the observing drunks stumbled back and upturned his tankard over his boots. His cobalt eyes flashed murderously and his head snapped up, searching for the culprit; his mind was wiped clean of his anger, however, as his gaze fell upon a petite woman huddled around the edge of the brawl.
Pale brown hair framed her soft, faintly tanned face, and spilled over her shoulders, highlighted by the grey vest she wore. Lingering on the outer ring of the brawl, she was hovering beside a man clutching a dagger, and her light chocolate eyes were fearful; she was, to Scipio, the most beautiful woman he could imagine.
It took a great deal of mental persuasion for Scipio to tear his eyes from her and follow the barkeep to the bar; he had, miraculously, lost his desire to drink, a condition that had plagued him since his days of service.
"Who is that?" he couldn't help but ask the bartender; shame aside, he had returned to gazing at her, as if fearful that she would suddenly vanish if he was not looking.
I should go over there, Scipio thought suddenly, and for a moment considered doing just that; just as swiftly that the notion came to him, however, so it left, leaving with him a much different feeling: she would never want a disgrace like him. She would want a renowned soldier or wealthy prince, a beauty like that.
Feeling quite sullen once again, the man dipped his gaze, scowling at the grain of the bar counter. "She come here often, her?" he asked the barkeep, feeling rather foolish for his first inquiry but knowing that the damage had been done.
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Post by Mason McTavish on Oct 17, 2010 15:20:02 GMT -5
The bar was definatly a confusing place now. People were coming in, slipping through the crowd, there was a...Magician or something like that who was threatening to drown them all (Mason wasn't particularly fond of magic. Not due to him being uneducated or supersticious, although he kind of was, but rather because magic was kind of cowardly in his eyes.), some ranger was chasing another guy, it was a mess.
The only one who seemed to be taking it all rather well was the bartender. Probably because he was used to such things, but that was not any concern of his own.
Either way, the drunks seemed to get the message that now would be a good time to quit, stumbling off towards their tables, out the door, or simply just falling ot the floor.
Snorting in mild disgust, the giant of a man strolled over to a now open table, slowly lowering himself to his seat. His face was a little sore from the punches, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. Glancing around the bar, he searched for the bartender, needing a drink more than ever.
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Post by Travis Huntman on Oct 17, 2010 16:48:10 GMT -5
The madman continued his dash for escape. Despite his limped right arm, Ivan charged through the roudy crowd of drunks. However, one of the men he ran into was a large fellow, which upon ramming into, caused him to lose his balance and land on a young woman with black hair and a scar on the left of her face. Upon looking back, the criminal saw the bounty hunter recovery from his cheap blow and now rushing to get him. Ivan desperately got up and went full sprint to the door.
The Ranger saw Ivan trying to escape through the main exit. Travis chased the murderer out the bar and into the rainy streets. As the man in the red cloak ran, the man in the green cloak pulled out his bow and drew an arrow from his quiver. He drew his bow back and, with careful aim, he released his arrow in the air, hitting the target in the leg. His prey trumbled to the muddy road as he couldn't handle the shock or pain of the projectile. Travis then made his walk towards his bounty, knocked out Ivan, bagged him, and returned to the Dragon's Keep.
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Post by Malcolm Selder on Oct 17, 2010 17:01:56 GMT -5
Apparently, Malcolm thought bitterly, some people were too stupid to even follow right. The gentleman had been walking just fine up until one drunk spilled something, the guy glanced up, and he started oogling one of the ladies. Malcolm spared a quick look to follow the man’s gaze. It looked like he’d at least fallen for one of the pretty ones.
Now, Malcolm had nothing against lovebirds. (They were the easiest to coax into splurging on a room upstairs.) However, the bar had begun to smell of werewolf now, too, and it mingled with the scent of the werecats so that the whole damn bar smelled like burning, blackened wood. There were plenty of tables he could tend that wouldn’t make his nose cringe.
“Who is that?” the stranger asked. At first, Malcolm ignored it, playing it off as though the question had vanished into the sounds of the pub. The second question was more direct: “She come here often, her?”
“Her?” Malcolm replied, inwardly smirking. The poor guy even sounded lovestruck. Hook, line, and sinker. The barkeep made a show of looking over and inspecting her, grating his memory for her image even though he was positive he’d never seen her before tonight. “I’ve never seen her. I’d wager she’s the traveling type.”
Moving swiftly, Malcolm vanished behind the bar, poured the man his mead, then returned and pushed the pitcher into his hands. “Here’s a tip, friend,” he said. “If she’s a wanderer and you don’t take your chance, you may never see her again. So you go have fun, and if you and the lovely lady decide you want a room for the night...” He smirked, already strolling around the fellow and towards the back table. “...You know who to ask.”
Leaving it at that, Malcolm walked away from the bar. He dodged around drunks, a fallen young lady, the harried ranger who’d knocked her over, and more before he finally found someone at a table who looked amiable and thirsty.
“Evening,” he said, offering a pleasant smile. “You look like a man who could use a drink. Am I right?”
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Post by Valcyn Amora on Oct 17, 2010 17:02:14 GMT -5
Valcyn's eyes flashed and she shoved the man off of her. "What," She said, quietly and deadly," Do you think that you're doing?" Her voice left no doubt that she wasn't going to take anything other than a straight answer. She had been looking the other way when the man had been pushed onto her, and, therefore, had no way of knowing that the man had been pushed and that the people responsible for this man crashing into her had already gone out the door. She finally just sighed and walked off. The man was drunk and probably hadn't had any idea what he was doing.
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Post by Tadala Dynas on Oct 17, 2010 17:09:35 GMT -5
After having some dark memories pulled to the surface, Tadala really did need a drink. Though the heaviest thing she drank was wine and even then, it was healthy for you in moderation. Looking at the cracked wine glass she frowned slightly, must of happened during the scuffle. She felt embarrassed to the point of wanting to hide her face, she was a Werecat. She should of handled that but no, she hadn't. She froze.
I really can be weak-willed sometimes. And yet I try to make my tribe proud...
She walked up to the bar, sat the glass down just after the barkeep had left to attend a few guests. I'll just wait.
Tadala turned to look to her left and saw a lone man sitting at the bar and smiled. He looked handsome for a human.
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Post by Scipio Varick on Oct 18, 2010 19:29:40 GMT -5
Scipio smirked back at the barkeep, raising his mug in thanks and nodding; as he swept off to attend to someone else, however, the smile quickly slid from his face. Far from bragging, the ex soldier had very little trouble picking up women- it was only that he tended to set his sights low to avoid twinging his bruised pride. He had hoped the occasional nightly company of pretty (but certainly not gorgeous) women would fend off loneliness. The sudden longing made him feel waist deep in it, however.
Taking a swig of mead, Scipio couldn't help but glance up at her over the top of his tankard at her; with a jolt that nearly sent alcohol slopping down his front, he accidentally locked eyes with the woman. Continuing to sip longer than necessary in order to gather a moment to compose himself, Scipio set the mug down. The bartender was right; if he was turned down, then at least he tried.
Flicking her a small smile, the soldier rose, took up his pitcher, and walked over to her. She had distanced herself far enough from the fray that he was not harassed as he leaned down, murmuring into her ear.
"Pardon me for saying so," he said quietly, "but this doesn't exactly seem to be your scene. A lady like you should enjoy better company than a mess of sloppy drunks."
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Post by Tadala Dynas on Oct 18, 2010 20:13:11 GMT -5
Tadala turned slightly and smiled, "Me? A lady? Thank you for the compliment but I'm far from a lady. I'm just passing through, staying for a night and then moving on. Why do you care?"
She didn't mean it to sound rude but once she had said it, Tadala blushed, "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound rude."
She twirled the cracked glass between her fingers and waited for a refill and to apologize. If she had to pay for it she would.
"I could use some new atmosphere though."
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Post by Scipio Varick on Oct 18, 2010 20:36:25 GMT -5
Faintly stunned from her brisk reply, Scipio straightened, one eyebrow arched as he looked the woman over in new light. Far from the seemingly-helpless and frightened girl he had glimpsed before, he now recognized her to posess defiant spark. About the same time that he made up his mind to, regardless of what could easily be taken as a rebuttal of his efforts, pursue her, she gave him a window.
"I could use some new atmosphere though."
Smiling, Scipio glanced up and waved down a passing barkeep. "A refill for the madam, if you please," he said, before extending his arm to her.
"My apologies, miss," he said smoothly, "I didn't mean to offend. The offer stands, however, if you would indeed like a change in company. My name is Scipio Varick, and I'd be honored to dine with you tonight."
(Aand here, Scipio will make his exit, making the thread shorter for you all.)
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Post by Travis Huntman on Oct 19, 2010 21:34:26 GMT -5
Travis came back to the bar carrying the unconscience Ivan over his shoulder. It seemed order was established in the bar for the fighting had resided. Though, there were still two drunks strangling each other in the back. The ranger didn't want to create a scene, but the fact he was carrying a wounded, knocked out convict who had a bag over his head raised some eyebrows among some of the barpatrions. Travis merely ignored the spectators as he walked up to the bartender.
"I assume your the owner of this establishment," stated the Ranger, "Anyways, I need a room for my friend here. As you see, he got a little drunk and thought it was a good idea to stab himself in the leg with an arrow." He handed him a small bag of gold coins. "Anyways, there's an extra tip in there for you, as well is enough to pay the house with an extra shot of your strongest stuff."
He then proceeded to a room. Upon finding his room, he saw a man standing by a door. The man was nervous.
"I guess he's meeting a woman," Travis thought as he opened the door and enter his room. As he tied up Ivan to a chair, he wondered why he was doing this. He had the man, all he had to do is ride back, give him to the sheriff, and get his pay. But it was his words, his vague prophancy, that puzzled the ranger. Of course, he could be a madman, but his gut said otherwise.
After treating Ivan's wound, he took the bag off his head and promptly woke him. The murderer was conscience, but in a daze. Also, his skin seemed turned to a shade of gray. While this was an odd sight for the ranger, he dismissed it as a sign of blood loss.
"Hello again, Ivan. I still have some questions for you."
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