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Post by Deleted on Apr 9, 2014 22:06:13 GMT -6
RHYS
What have I done..?.
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a distant memory -- prelude
It was good he didn't suggest walking away, their minds were alike in that respect. Rhys just felt the man should have a say in how they proceeded. While critically analyzing the fortified camp, he thought he heard Allen say something but couldn't quite understand him. He was probably muttering to himself while deciding what to do, so he didn't press. So Allen suggested two distinct courses of action, both having their pros and cons. Rhys took a moment to think them over. Well, it was more like a handful of moments, about a minute actually. " The first option seems more ideal. It'll be easier to discern their reason. If they let you in, try and see if you can determine their motive while I search their camp. If they are here for untoward reasons, then they'll have to be dealt with. I'm sure we could procure supplies and horses from them afterwards. Unless you'd rather we just steal it from them and haul ass?" Rhys preferred the idea of finding out why they were fortified here. If they were indeed bandits, or something of equal nastiness, it would only spell trouble for whatever they are planning. For some reason or another, Rhys felt like erring on the side of justice in this matter. Maybe it's a foreshadowing to what he was before the trauma. At the moment, he wasn't putting too much thought into it. He was just letting his instincts guide him, that and a distant memory. NOTES: This thread is thus far the longest on FD! o:
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Post by Allen Kierser on Apr 10, 2014 5:46:55 GMT -6
In the minute Rhys weighed the options, Kierser focused on centering himself, analyzing how much energy he could spare for this. Sufficient, he decided, but as soon as they were secure he highly suspected he was going to pass out. He flexed out his hands, wishing he had a pair of gloves. The fabric would prevent him from using his ability fully but it would be a barrier between his skin and that of the bandits. The thought made him slightly queasy.
"Steal what we need and disable as many of them as possible. If it's necessary, we will deal with all of them," he said. Good. Time to see if he could play the role he'd assigned himself. Kierser rubbed the dried blood from his hands and brushed the hair out of his face. He dropped the hood, but kept the cloak on, considering that they might not have the time to retrieve it later. He buttoned up his jacket up so that it only suggested that he was wounded while showing the quality of the fabric.
"Do I project hapless city-dweller?" he increased the register of his voice and loosened his face. There, stupid and feeble. Kierser was talented at this sort of deception. "I'm trusting you to come after me." He smiled and almost surprised himself with the honesty of it. He didn't tend to have people to fall back on in case of error. Rhys he left to do as he'd agreed; Kierser approached the palisades. Inside he was perfectly calm; he'd thought up the plan - how could it go wrong? The expression he wore, however, managed to convey thinly concealed worry and desperation.
Kierser knocked on the gate, believing they'd already seen him. "Is anyone there? I-I've lost my friends and I really need help. Please, do you have any water... I have money and-and some other things I could pay with." The gate was slowly opened, revealing the two guards he'd seen before; they didn't see him as much of threat, for they didn't call the others over. "Oh, thank god, I thought this was going to be abandoned -" He was interrupted with a demand for the money. "It's in my pockets, why?" One grabbed his shoulder and began to search, hand bumping against Kierser's skin. Got you. Oh, he relished how easy it was to set the cells in his spinal cord to self-destruct, setting a trail of self destruction down the bandit's back.
'He doesn't have anything on him,' the bandit snarled, and his compatriot stepped forward to grab Kierser by the collar of his shirt. It made some imbecilic threat that he ignored, grabbing the offending hand and doing the same. They'd be incapacitated in a minute or two and even now, their steps toward him were unsteady. They yelled out for the rest and, now that the attention was on him, he waited for Rhys to come, scarcely avoiding the blades of the bandits.
WORD COUNT # ? NOTES # sweet! figured I'd get the npc stuff introduced with this post
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Post by Deleted on Apr 10, 2014 22:34:55 GMT -6
RHYS
This will be my atonement...
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a distant memory -- reconstruction
Steal what they needed and disable as many as they possibly could. It was a viable plan indeed. As Allen was preparing himself, Rhys continued analyzing the fortifications he could see. Scaling the wall would be easy considering his gift but he wondered if there were people patrolling along the walls. There was always a chance of scaffolding beyond the palisades that allowed others to peer over the walls. Rhys shook his head, trying not to think they were that smart. At Allen's question, he glanced over his shoulder then returned to his analyzing. Everything needed to be right otherwise his new companion's would be forfeit. While Allen made his way towards the front gate, Rhys shifted his weight and watched. He strained his hearing to try and observe any alarmed voices when Allen began his act. He couldn't hear much beyond vague sounds which he assumed was the potential bandits rallying to the gate. There was a brief intermittence as those that answered the gate questioned Allen and searched his person. After they took him inside, Rhys quickly moved towards the fortified camp. He stayed low and was glad nobody was watching over the walls. Upon reaching them, he stood stock still, waited and listened. He didn't hear anything but that could mean nothing. Moving quickly but quietly, Rhys ghosted around from the front to the side. Acting on a hunch, Rhys half-crouched them leaped upwards. The air that had coiled around his legs gave him an extra boost, lightly vaulting him up and over the wall. He landed amidst a row of tents. He was fortunate now to land on one. Crouching once more, the air coiling tight around his legs again, Rhys made his way through the camp, inspecting what he could find unguarded. As he rounded a bend, he noticed a few leathery armored men heading his way. They were conversing amongst themselves and hadn't yet noticed him at a distance. Acting quickly, Rhys rolled into a, hopefully unoccupied, tent. Unfortunately, he landed on somebody who emitted a feminine grunt. Before he could dispatch them, a lightly muscular female sat up facing him whereupon her blanket fell from her body. Rhys stared wide eyed, completely caught off guard. Before he could react, she grabbed him and the next he knew, she had his arm twisted behind him and pinned underneath her. Boy, was he in a pickle. Hang in there, Allen! Damn, I don't like hurting women.. NOTES: Rhys is in some trouble. Allen's backup is gonna be delayed, hahah.
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Post by Allen Kierser on Apr 11, 2014 4:29:25 GMT -6
Kierser was losing the spark of faith he had in Rhys and decided to cease waiting. He ducked and twisted so that the wall wasn't behind him. Outnumbered like wounded animal under the purview of vultures.He kept insisting that he was an innocent man but it becoming increasingly obvious that they did not believe him. A woman grabbed his arm and made to impale him with a sword. One look at that rusted blade edge and his dagger slipped into his palm; he slit the tendons in her dominant hand, one of the few places on her body not covered in armor. As she cried out, he thought it was entirely her fault for being so open in his movements. The shock of her injury and the collapse of those two formerly at the door seemed to momentarily stun them. Kierser was able to slip away, sprinting into the confines. He realized after a moment that the falling sword had still managed to injure his right arm, faint pangs traveling up his shoulder.
These were less hardened killers and blood thirsty robbers than exiles who rarely had to do more appear imposing to get what they wanted, that was evident. Perhaps they did have some actual talent among the unpolished brutes and Kierser really hoped he wouldn't run into them.
Where the hell was Rhys? He made an irritated noise in the midst of his struggling breath and hid behind a high structure. Let Byrnne and her gift save him. There were bigger things to be concerned about. Namely, he was deep in a goddamn bandit camp with a fair portion of them seeking him. Oh, he never before wished he had the ability to be invisible before now - though this was just another circumstance where he wished his gift could be used at a distance, was more aggressive, was more devastating.
Keiser scanned the area around him, calming his breath and heart (pounding like a fist against his ribcage). Tents were to his right and to his left - a stoke of unexpected luck - some type of riding animal. He'd give Rhys another moment, but he was danger of seeing himself torn into pieces as it was.
WORD COUNT # ? NOTES # hm, should they get captured or make a narrow escape?
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Post by Deleted on Apr 11, 2014 12:33:52 GMT -6
RHYS
This will be my atonement...
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a distant memory -- reconstruction
Rather than explain what happened between Rhys and the female bandit, let's just say he overpowered her when her guard was down and made a narrow escape. Of course he exited in time to witness what he assumed was the aftermath of whatever Allen did. Men and women in leather armor, some none at all, were scurrying around, searching their camp. Rhys momentarily reprimanded himself for getting caught. Had that not happened, he probably would have secured a getaway for them both. " Tch, oh well. At least with this confusion, I can find out whether or not they deserve mercy." With a glance back towards the tent he had exited, Rhys crouched low again and quickly moved off. If he were the chief of an impressive fortification, he'd have a larger tent in the center of the encampment. In the confusion, not many noticed him but those that did received a quick jab to their abdomen or a crack over their skulls. He didn't aim to kill, which is why he used the butt end of his spear to deliver the blows rather than the spearhead. Of course the unconscious bodies he left around only added to the mass confusion. With expert ease, Rhys slipped under the back of the chief's tent, or that of which he assumed was it, and came to a stop. A man turned to face him. He was tall, muscular and dark skinned. Not so dark, more like sun-kissed bronze. There were markings on his exposed upper body, ones Rhys recognized. No, this couldn't be the same man. Slowly his gaze rose to the man's face, just as the tent flaps in the front blew open, letting in the sunlight. It illuminated the man's face and Rhys' eyes opened wide. His whole body went rigid and he took an instinctive step back. " Amek... is that you?" No, it couldn't be. Not here, not now. NOTES: Uhh.. narrow escape works. As much as I'd like to make this the G-est thread ever, idunno. Just escape without him or come for him. He has to have a showdown with the chief.
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Post by Allen Kierser on Apr 19, 2014 9:38:05 GMT -6
Kierser thought. He considered. He decided.
He made he way to the riding animal and put a hand on its neck, bare fingers pressing into cool fur. Almost immediately his hope of using to escape alone were crushed into tiny, translucent bits. The animal sidestepped to get away from him, huffing loudly. Kierser had completely forgotten how much animals despised him - from the dog his brother had attempted to keep when he was three to the goddamn birds that flitted around the docks but never ever approached him - and it was apparent this one was no different. Touching it was risky, so that meant riding it was out of the question. He had visions of himself being thrown and finally breaking the fracturing rib in his chest.
Rhys would have to be found then. Perhaps he'd be able to distract them enough to tolerate his presence. And after this was all over, he'd find out what about him repelled these idiot creatures so. Tacey had made some veiled suggestions about it being his personality before, about him not being open enough; he rather thought she was projecting.
The plan abandoned, he scanned the camp for Rhys. Nowhere to be found, reliable as always. Kierser saw a still body in the distance but, despite his blurred vision, he could tell it was too bulky to be him. He was too far to tell if Rhys had killed the man; knocking it out might have been quicker, in any case.
His gaze drifted to the tent just as the wind picked up the corner of the front flap. Rhys. Someone else was in there, the ostentatious head of this brigade; the wind stilled before Kierser could really see them. Impulsively, he dashed across the open ground to a hiding place beside the test, where the fabric was loosely gathered. Kierser would wait.
WORD COUNT # ? NOTES # G-est?
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