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Post by Cheveyo Kitchi on Nov 8, 2010 22:51:00 GMT -5
Rules:
1: Regular Tempting Fate rules.
2: Posting order. Folllloooowwww UNLESS needed person is idle for three days.
3: No plot, join away.
4: I can add rules if I wish.
5: Don't post until I do, please.
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Post by Cheveyo Kitchi on Nov 8, 2010 23:06:31 GMT -5
"Ten gold pieces."
"You're joking."
"Not at all, ma'am.'
"That's not even worth five!"
"It's ten. Pay or leave."
Chey rolled her eyes and strode away from the stall with purpose, refusing to pay that much for a cheap remedy. That man looked as if he had never seen a proper herb in his life, yet he was trying to sell medicines? What a stupendous job choice, sir.
The young Chief continued down the cobbled streets, pulling her hood just a bit lower. She could feel her scabbard bumping against her left thigh as she walked, and subconsciously slipped her hand over the hilt of her scimitar. She was feeling particularly unsettled today for some odd reason, and just having that thin piece of metal in her fist was strangely comforting.
"Hey, Miss!"
"What?" Chey bit back an exasperated sigh as she turned to the calling vendor.
"Ya need sumthin'? I sell's good stuff, ye'sirree. Necklaces, brac'lets, ri-"
"No, thanks." She assured the portly man, leaving him there on the side of the road. She did not have time for these under-experienced merchants; they had no idea what they were doing half of the time...no, she was headed for the more prominent side of the square, where she had connections with the shop owners. Guaranteed quality was a big improvement over the questionable goods down in this area.
She made her way around the corner and smiled softly at the familiarity of the section in front of her.
Now, the real shopping begins.
( GOSH, that sucked. )
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Post by Malcolm Selder on Nov 8, 2010 23:34:42 GMT -5
Malcolm didn’t much care for sunny days, for obvious reasons, but he did like to admire the light through a tinted bottle of mead. Better yet, he could smell the blood of about a hundred people, none of it masked by rain. Granted, the vampire himself still smelled like a dozen spilled bottles of ale, but it was much better than soaking in perfume, and as long as he kept booze first on his shopping list, no one really asked why he smelled so strange.
Ignoring the few fleeting stares he got, Malcolm decided that with two bottles tucked into his arms and a hood over his head, he was well enough off to do a bit of shopping. A cursory glance down told him that he was well overdue on a new wardrobe; even washing didn’t get out all the dirt that came with a bar.
He looked to one side of the market, then the other, his lips curving into a frown. This area was classy, sure, but unfamiliar; usually, he’d sent some errand boy off for the alcohol and wasted his own time back in the lesser parts of the market, looking for oddities to laugh at or a game to gamble on. However, he didn’t want to buy clothes from the same person he’d play cards with.
He scanned the crowd, and eventually wound up staring at a woman in a fairly nice-looking cloak. Malcolm smirked; he wouldn’t trust a card dealer to know outfits, but he had a feeling a woman would know more about it than anyone. Putting on a hopefully amiable smile, he jogged over and waved to her.
“‘Scuse me, miss?” he called out, stopping a small distance away. (He might have been a stranger in a crowded, dirty, smelly market with two bottles of alcohol and the smell of dozens of nights behind a bar counter, but he was still an unusually pale stranger in a market.) “I’m a little lost. Any idea where a fellow like me might find some good clothes?”
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Post by Cheveyo Kitchi on Nov 8, 2010 23:50:15 GMT -5
Chey's eyes locked on a pale figure yelling over the noise of the crowd at her. She furrowed her brow at the man's skin tone, but dismissed the fact for now. More time to debate on that hideous species once she got a better look at the man; plus, she did not smell anything that hinted him being a bloodsucker...still, her muscles tensed as she fought her way through the crowd towards him.
She had halved the distance between them when she finally replied. "Down the street," she pointed south,"that way, and to the left is a great parlor. Nice prices, too."
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Post by Travis Huntman on Nov 9, 2010 0:06:03 GMT -5
A break was all he needed. Travis, regetting even more about the deal he made with Malcolm, decided to goto the town square to escape from the horrors of his second job. He didn't like the social gathering of the market square but it was better than dealing with drunken patrons. He figured he could buy some equipment, as well to see if there were any bounties for him.
However as he examined the stalls, there wasn't anything that came to mind for the ranger to use. Mostly jewelery and other unnecisary items that those with money would spruge on to get. He did found a vendor selling arrowheads, which Travis didn't pass off. While he had save his money for his debt with Malcolm, he figure he could spare a few coins on some new arrowheads.
As he collected his purchused goods, his eye caught guard of Malcolm. Apperatly, it seemed like he has getting alcohol to restock back at the bar. Though, it seemed strange for him that he was asking some complete stranger where to buy clothes. Then again, to Travis, Malcolm was a strange man (It seems like everyone in the Dragon's Keep is strange in someway). He wasn't much of the outdoors person by the color his pale skin, unless during a cloudy day or dark night. He seemed to drown his body oder with plenty ale, but he does work traven. But, he also has this caution look about certain people. It wouldn't surprise him if he was a vampire or something, and if that was the case, he knew he had watch his back.
He figured he would keep an eye on his boss and join in the conversation. "Just wondering, do they sell anything that can blend into a forest. Because I could use a new hunting outfit."
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Post by Malcolm Selder on Nov 9, 2010 7:33:52 GMT -5
Malcolm almost backed away when the woman tensed; he wasn’t fond of having suspicion cast on him. However, he held his ground, and the stranger simply walked a short way closer before pointing him towards the south, and also advising him of a great parlor the same way.
“Thank you,” he told her. He turned to leave, but froze when a familiar voice reached his ears. He turned back around to find none other than Travis, the part-time upstairs-destroyer. And, surprises surprise, though Mr. Huntman couldn’t pay back his debts, he was more than happy to ask about finding a new outfit. One where he could blend in to the forest. That sounded an awful lot like an escape plan.
“Travis,” he said, taking one step closer (only one step; closer to Travis meant closer to the stranger as well). “What a pleasant surprise. So you can’t cover your debt, but you can afford an outfit to hide in the forest?”
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Post by Cheveyo Kitchi on Nov 9, 2010 17:19:52 GMT -5
Chey opened her mouth to answer the hunter, even though she questioned the motives behind his inquiry, but Malcolm beat her to the punch.
She raised an eyebrow. "I suspect you two know each other?" The question was rhetorical, for she knew it true. She massaged her temples tiredly, the familiar feeling of being the middle man- or woman... - plaguing her. She refused to get sucked into this, though.
Chey noted the hunter was most definitely human, and relaxed slightly. At least she wouldn't have to deal with two shady beings today. Don't jump to conclusions. That may be a human, but he could still be a problem. A weak, easily snuffed out problem...but a problem.
Still gripping the scimitar under her cloak, Chey drew a bit closer to the two. Her curiosity was getting the better of her, and she was fully conscious of that fact, but...she had to know who this deathly pale man was, and what Travis had to do with this whole mess.
Curiosity killed the cat, Cheveyo.
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Post by Travis Huntman on Nov 9, 2010 21:19:17 GMT -5
While it seemed Malcolm was taking every moment of the position he was in, Travis merely shrugged off his taunt.
"Well Malcolm, I have no intention in buying a new outfit; I'm only wondering if they did sell such clothes that when I'm out of your debt, I could purchuse them at a later time for my line of work. Though, if you did allow me to take a bounty or two, I could repay the debt I owe you."
He then turned to the woman and scanned her. She was about his age; she was small in figure but something about her told him that she wasn't someone who you could trample. She seemed rather cautious of him and Malcolm, wondering their connection.
Travis walked up to her and answered, "Well, if you're wondering, I currently work for him. It's kind of a long story but I currently owe a debt to him." He then eyed the hilt of her sword; her hands were on it, ready to attack. He smiled and calmly added, "And worried about us, we don't wish harm you. The name is Travis Huntsman." He then put out his hand.
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Post by Malcolm Selder on Nov 9, 2010 23:12:32 GMT -5
Malcolm coughed, holding back a laugh. ‘No, sir, I’m not going to buy anything, I was just asking on the off chance that I go shopping in the future after I’ve paid you back.’ Suuuure.
And of course, the following suggestion that Travis would be better off in his own line of work. “I might have to,” Malcolm said, grinning. “You are one of the worst bartenders I’ve ever seen.” For safety’s sake, he added a quick “I’ll think about it,” as well, hoping to put off any further conversation on the subject.
Fortunately, the subject moved smoothly back to the stranger. A little less fortunately, she looked to be slightly closer, and Malcolm wasn’t quite sure he liked the look in her eyes. Travis stepped forward, revealing a level of charisma that had been completely suppressed before. The ranger introduced himself, belittled his own folly in wrecking the bar, and assured her that neither he nor Malcolm wished her harm.
That was about when he noticed the sword at her side, and thee wary hands reaching for the handle.
He kept himself from jumping backwards, but he certainly didn’t step up and offer his hand for a shake. “I’m Malcolm Selder,” he said, putting on his best normal-person worried smile. (You didn’t even have to be a vampire to be wary of someone walking towards you looking ready to attack.) “Do excuse me if I don’t join the handshake. I’m unarmed aside from two bottles of booze, so I’d rather not approach the stranger with the sword.” A bit of a lie, but true in the sense that a hidden dagger wouldn’t do much good against a swift-drawn scimitar.
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Post by Cheveyo Kitchi on Nov 10, 2010 8:39:58 GMT -5
Chey stared at the hand, wary of a trap. The suspicious character behind the ranger just kept looking worse and worse…that terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach leaped up a few notches as she released the scimitar’s hilt and took Travis’ hand in her own smaller one. “You can call me Chey.” She said quietly, purposefully using her nickname in case this odd-looking pair happened to know of her status. “Wonderful to meet you, Mr. Huntman.”
Her hand fell back to her side at Malcolm’s introduction. She could have sworn that, in the smile that he briefly flashed, she saw familiar pointed teeth…
No. It was impossible. She was imagining things…
Right?
“Hello to you, as well, Mr. Selder.” She paused and glanced down at her side, staring at the blade for a moment. Her eyes drifted back to Malcolm, though she did not lift her head. “Better safe than sorry. I apologize for the scare, though. People around here can be quite…unpredictable.”
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Post by Travis Huntman on Nov 10, 2010 14:15:41 GMT -5
"Chey, that's a nice name," he nodded his head, still seeing she was still nervous, but at least she seemed to be getting more at ease. Thought, Malcolm seemed a bit uneased at the female, refusing to get any closer to her. It was like he knew something about her that Travis didn't, but yet again Malcolm didn't seem much of a fan of cautious armed folk.
"Though, I do get what you mean, ma'am," Travis continued, "There's nothing wrong with carrying some protection on you when things get hot. So, any particular reason why your here, or just wondering about and scanning the overpriced merchanise."
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Post by Malcolm Selder on Nov 10, 2010 19:38:06 GMT -5
Not ‘My name is,’ but ‘you can call me.’ Warning bells were already ringing in Malcolm’s head. Not necessarily werecat/werewolf bells, but bells nonetheless. She definitely didn’t trust him, that was for sure.
“I understand,” he said, nodding and forcing his lips into a polite, toothless smile. He didn’t bother saying anything else; Travis picked up the conversation and promptly ran with it. Malcolm watched, slightly bemused. He wouldn’t have picked the ranger out as the chivalrous type, but Travis proved him wrong.
For the time being, Malcolm tossed options through his head. He could just walk away to shop, but every time that idea caught in his head paranoia rose up and he imagined Chey’s gaze on his back. Everyone was introduced, Travis was talking, Chey wasn’t advancing like a coyote to its prey (He suppressed a cringe; bad analogy); he supposed he could wait just a moment more. If Travis and Chey hit it off, he’d use that as an excuse to take his leave.
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Post by Cheveyo Kitchi on Nov 10, 2010 21:13:57 GMT -5
"I'm here to buy some remedies, actually. I have a friend in need of them." Chey replied, slowly letting her guard down. More like an entire tribe...
While Malcolm was shrouded in mystery and obvious hesitance, Travis seemed like the outgoing kind of guy. She found an odd comfort in this, but she was still worried about the fangs she might have seen and the skin that just looked a bit too pale.
Even though she was trying to keep her attention on Travis, Chey felt her gaze wandering to Malcolm every few moments. She struggled to lock her eyes on the ranger, but to no avail.
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Post by Travis Huntman on Nov 10, 2010 22:41:32 GMT -5
Travis seemed to have this strange emirgance of being outgoing for some reason. It was a strange impulse for the ranger, for rarely he did much casual talk. But, he knew needed to talk to her because there seemed to be this silent tension between Malcolm and Chey. The way she gazed at Malcolm, the way Malcolm kept his difference from Chey. They somehow were suspious of each other. Whatever they feared in each other may result in an unneeded public brawl, which Travis didn't want. Yet, rejectively but true, he kinda like the conversation.
"Is your friend in dire trouble?" he continued, "If you must, I could help. I have some knowledge in herblore."
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Post by Malcolm Selder on Nov 10, 2010 23:23:28 GMT -5
...Damnit, she was still staring at him. Malcolm returned her gaze, not even bothering to pay attention to Travis. Every second or so she glanced at him. He hadn’t said a word since Travis began his tangent, and he hadn’t done anything particularly attention-grabbing.
While the ranger spoke, continuing on with his inquiries, Malcolm made a show of investigating the side of his cloak, checking for a leaf or spot that could have drawn Chey’s attention (unless she was admiring his good looks, but he got the feeling that wasn’t it).
Disregarding Travis’s inane question, Malcolm slid back just a foot, eyeing Chey with what he hoped seemed like a normal, wary gaze. “Is something the matter?” he asked, trying to think carefully. “Perhaps I should leave...?”
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