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Post by The Eagle on Dec 17, 2012 13:18:17 GMT -5
Jory raised a hand politely, declining. His eyes peered at the strange man. "Most men are more surprised when their acquaintances get brutally killed. You seem rather familiar with death." He chuckled. "You must frequent this bar often."
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Post by Deleted on Dec 17, 2012 13:25:51 GMT -5
Cayn nodded, and took a sip of his ale. "Aye, the Goat's a second home to me. Actually it's a first home; I sleep in one of the bunks upstairs."
"Always knew Bert would end up like that, so it's not much of a surprise, just wasn't expecting it to happen right in front of me."
"Do I know you?" he asked the man, trying to register his face.
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Post by The Eagle on Dec 17, 2012 13:54:55 GMT -5
Jory shrugged. "Unlikely. I'm a sellsword, don't frequent these parts much. Only here for the tourney. Might win myself some free gold. I usually stick around The West."
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Post by Deleted on Dec 17, 2012 14:01:52 GMT -5
Cayn nodded. "I see, so what do they call you, sellsword?"
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Post by The Eagle on Dec 17, 2012 17:01:39 GMT -5
"Jory. Jory Hill. What makes the pair of us so intriguing to you, Ser? No doubt types like us are common in a place such as here, and you seem the type that does interesting business."
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Post by Deleted on Dec 17, 2012 17:41:47 GMT -5
Cayn grinned. "You are man like me Jory, and certainly our types are common in here, but you are mistaken to call your companion common." He turned to the woman and the corners of his mouth stretched upwards.
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Post by Raven Umber on Dec 17, 2012 21:40:25 GMT -5
“Black bird”, she smiled at Jory, ”That is me, well my new name as I choose to use it.” Raven took another gulp of ale,”And no I am not smirking because I would rather smile now.” She listened to him talk, until he said he needed her help. “My help? In what may I ask?” Placing the mug on the table she waited for his answer until another man joins them, talking of a friend being killed in front of him.
She looked puzzled as he stared at her,”Um, no thanks. I am fine with my ale.” Raven smiled lightly at him, secretly wishing that he would leave as quickly as he showed up at their table. She wanted to hear what Jory was going to tell her. Raven looked at his smile again returning a small one of her own,”I am a companion of Jory’s and yes we are only here for the tourney.” Leaning back in her chair, staring at him, ”And no there is nothing common about me, but I do not want any unwanted attention either.” Raven looked at Jory, then back at Cayn.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 18, 2012 1:57:32 GMT -5
Cayn grinned and held his hands up. "I don't need telling twice when I'm not wanted. Another night with Marla for me then."
He whistled and a large mastiff came bounding out from a corner of the room. "Come on girl, those highborns don't have time for the likes of us," he said with mock offence, and left them.
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Post by The Eagle on Dec 18, 2012 12:52:08 GMT -5
Jory rolled his eyes. "Highborns, he says." He pulled Raven aside. "This bar isn't safe for what I need to discuss with you. We should leave for someplace safer. Lord O. has some work for us." He turned towards the door, assuming that Raven would follow.
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Post by Raven Umber on Dec 18, 2012 17:04:41 GMT -5
Raven laughed lightly at the "highborn" comment. "If he would have stayed a while, he would have found out differently."
She nodded,"I am sure, the sorcerer does need something." Raven downed the rest of her ale and followed Jory out of the bar to their next supposed quiet destination.
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Post by The Eagle on Dec 18, 2012 17:07:35 GMT -5
OOC: Going to make another KL Thread, tag when I make it.
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Post by Raven Umber on Dec 18, 2012 17:08:55 GMT -5
((okay ![;)](//storage.proboards.com/forum/images/smiley/wink.png) )
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Post by The Eagle on Dec 18, 2012 17:15:55 GMT -5
Tag Raven.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 18, 2012 17:25:34 GMT -5
Cayn watches the pair leaves with interest. He tells Marla to stay where she is, then slinks out of the Goat a moment later.
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Kurts
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Post by Kurts on Dec 23, 2012 16:31:13 GMT -5
Oriax entered the Rotted Goat, having heard on the streets it was the best place for a man in the market for information. He sat at a booth in a dark corner, observing the establishment with mild distaste, black eyes scanning the patrons.
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