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Bounty Hunters

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Bounty Hunters

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby CobraKing95 on Tue Jul 03, 2007 8:01 pm

OOC: This is going to be one of those meaningless roleplays. It starts off with an under-defined plot or no plot at all and as the story progresses, the characters write the plot. It increases creativity as the only boundaries are what your fellow roleplayers won't do. Don't post a bio, just jump into the story and we'll write you in. As long as you're literate, you're in.

BIC: Scott Findlay sat on his barstool, finishing his ale. His hair was dark brown, medium length, and slightly curled. He had three days worth of stubble on his face as well as some dirt. He wore an old, tattered, brown leather outfit consisting of a tunic, trousers, loose-fitting vest, boots, and a set of fingerless, copper-studded gloves.

He was a bounty hunter and, recently, he had been getting an increase in the number of calls he got. Some were the usualcareless thieves, debtors, runaways, and those unfortunate enough to leave a will to one undeserving. This was just more money. What disturbed him was the missing livestock cases. At first, he thought it was just some poor bloke who couldn't feed his family or possibly wolves. However, patterns were beginning to develop and strange tracks turned up at the crime scenes. It didn't ease his suspicions as one of last month's victims was found disemboweled on his farm.

Eventually, he had gotten lucky, or unlucky from a certain point of view, and found what had been taking the animals. As he was inspecting a job on the king's private hunting grounds, he soon found himself on the wrong end of the hunter/hunted relationship. A werewolf lunged at him and he fell on his back. He kicked into a back flip when the beast landed on him, throwing the creature into the air. As the beast came down, Scott was there with his daggers, and the werewolf was dead before it hit the ground. Unfortunately, the beast melted with a hiss of black smoke, leaving no trace.

Of course, no one believed Scott, so he was somewhat shot of business, which is why he was at the inn this night, drinking until he passed out. Before his sobriety was long-gone, a cloaked stranger approached him. He dropped a pouch on the bar and it landed with the promising sound of coins.

The stranger said, "You called, 'Findlay'?" "Aye," replied Scott. The stranger grinned, baring several golden teeth, and said, "Good. I have a job for ye. I need ye to bring me a live werewolf." Before he could finish the last word, an unnerving hush fell over the inn. The barmaid shouted, "Are ye mad?!? No man could pull of such a feat even if they did exist! I'll not be having such talk in my inn. Out with ye, stranger!" Scott just said coolly, "Oh, they're real, all right. I'll bring ye back one on the next full moon." The barmaid just scoffed, "Aye. Many men be saying such things, but I na'er seen a man return with both 'is pride 'n' life." Scott slit the pouch with a dagger drawn from his vest and out poured one hundred gold coins. He counted out five on the bar, pocketed the rest, and left with the stranger in tow.
Make your biography a book worth reading.

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CobraKing95
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Re: Bounty Hunters

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Zee All Knowing Peacock on Tue Jul 03, 2007 9:27 pm

Harothed's looked up from behind thick brown hair, which hung down just to eye level. He wore a long dark green cloak, under which was hardened leather armor. He sat at a table, hidden behind the thick smoke of durhang. The narcotic left a heavy and pungent smell in the air, making his hazel eyes red-shot and rimmed. His gaunt, pale features were over-shadowed by the firelight from the hearth, giving his normally handsome face an altogether more sinister look. He was tall, and while thin he was well-built, with toned muscles and a powerful body. It was all hidden under the thin brown cotton undershirt, and brown leather leggings, however.

His head turned when he heard the coins hit the counter. He looked up to see two men talking, then one barmaid making a fuss. He saw them get up to leave and he himself stood. He left a coin on the table and headed for the door behind them. He moved to the door, and then out into the cold, crisp night. He could see his breath in this temperature, but he still liked it better than the damn summer heat. He had grown up in the mountains, where the temperatures fell much farther below than they did here. He had grown a bit more accustomed to heat when he had spent a few months in the Faray Desert, but had never grown to like it. He had become a killer when the raiders had attacked his farm, right after he'd moved away from his parents.

He had killed the raiders when they came, but they had left his farm ravaged, and his wife and son slaughtered. He had hunted the ones who had gotten away, and systematically killed them all. Since then he had never been the same. His old happy demeanour was gone, replaced with a cold, ruthless, remorseless, and shut-out exterior. He felt no pain, no love, and no joy anymore, and that is the way he would remain. He had managed to keep himself sane through keeping busy, alcohol, and narcotics. His gaze swept the street, falling upon his horse. He moved over and grabbed his quiver and his short recurve horn bow. He also grabbed his one-sided longsword. Then he turned and set off towards the other two.

They turned when he reached them, and he looked from one to the other. "I don't know what the job is, and I don't care. I need something to do."
"Some things are important. Others are not. Yet all would claim a mortal's attention. It falls to each of us to remain ever mindful, and thus purchase wisdom in the threading of possibilities. It is our common failing that we are guided by our indifference to eventualities. The moment pleases, the future can await consideration." - Steven Erikson's Midnight Tides

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Zee All Knowing Peacock
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Re: Bounty Hunters

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby CobraKing95 on Tue Jul 03, 2007 10:12 pm

Scott looked over this bounty hunter. Given the option, he would have either sent him away, or killed him. However, his employer showed interest. "He doesn't think I can do it alone. Damn him," thought Scott. "I'll prove him wrong when this wimp chickens out."
The stranger removed his hood to reveal a face not treated well by the years. He had thin, coarse gray hair and a think beard about his face. His eyes were clouded over as he was nearly blind. He spoke in a soft, yet commanding voice, saying with a raised eyebrow, "Have ye ever seen a werewolf?"

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Re: Bounty Hunters

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Daniya on Mon Dec 24, 2007 3:37 pm

OOC: Sounds interesting. Mind if I join?

IC: Daniya stood there next to the barmaid that had yelled, laughing at the two men as they left.
She turned to the man next to her. "Best not insult those men, they'd be Bounty Hunters, they know what they're talkin' about." The man just looked at her and she smiled.
Ducking under the bar she said to him. "Well, I'm off, and remember what I told ye. Don't mess with them, we wouldn't want ye gettin' hurt now. 'Night" Grabbing her cloak, she left the Inn smiling.

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