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Thomas Warde

"Dashing, but not very cuddly."

0 · 313 views · located in Etheren

a character in “I Never Thought I'd See You Again”, as played by Someguyinhere


Warde has given up a lot in life. His innocence, his love, his very identity. He clings to very little, attempting to hold on to a piece of what he once was, to his humanity. But sometimes it seems like a losing battle.

So begins...

Thomas Warde's Story


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Character Portrait: Thomas Warde
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The sounds of work. To different people, this meant different things. Hammers on metal, the rustling of goods, the whinny of a horse. But this was a unique sound. The sound of thin wire over thin flesh. Pulled taut, and given a twist. That ungodly gurgle, the writhing and struggling. Feet bouncing off the ground, the last desperate gasps. A head bouncing off the floor. This was the sound of the daily grind to this particular man. He stood, rolling away the wire garrote. He reached up to adjust his hood, having been disheveled in the struggle.

Black, closely-cropped hair crowned his head. Piercingly blue eyes peered out at his handiwork, a scowl of displeasure evident on his rugged face. He had a bit of hard stubble growing in evenly on his face, framing him in a way that wasn't entirely unattractive. His face overall spoke of power, but there was a rugged handsomeness that saved him from looking like a goon with bright eyes. He pulled the hood of his cloak back over his face, peering around the hovel. None of the mercenaries friends were rushing back. So far, so good.

He crouched down besides the corpse, rifling through the filthy pockets of his tunic. Would it kill these men to bathe at least once a week? Hm, what do we have here? He withdrew a folded, dingy piece of parchment from the man's pocket. Unfolding it, he was faced with a basic cipher. He was already privy to it, having been at this for a month. The idiots still hadn't changed it, which was fortunate, because he was no closer to his goal than when he had started. They were at least careful enough not to implicate anyone higher up the chain.

It took him only moments to decipher the message. It gave a vague location here in town, narrowing it down with an order list and landmark identifiers. It looked to be an alchemy list. Perhaps potions? What would these brutes need with magic of any kind? He recognized some of the described landmarks. He had seen a shop near what had been described in the message. This man had been to meet a contact there, soon in fact. He tore the parchment into several small pieces, sprinkling them over the dead man's body.

"Cheers." He said, cheekily.

He slipped out quietly, checking around. All was clear. With practiced ease he slipped into a crowd of peasant peddlers heading up the street. From there, he made his way further into town, milling with the crowds of commoners and merchants. In the midst of it all, he shed his cloak, stowing it away into a pouch. Underneath, he wore of the fashion of the day. He wasn't fond of the poofy cuffs, but it was the clothing of the elite. It fit him well, accentuating his strong physique nicely. The colors were mild, as he wasn't fond of this kind of clothing to begin with.

It didn't take him long cross town. Nobody knew his face, and to most he looked like another rich minor noble with business to attend to. He tracked down the landmarks, working over his knowledge of the town in his mind as he matched objects to their description. Never a doubt in his mind. He found the shop, or at least, he was sure he had. It was definitely a potions shop, with many cloaked figured moving around and about the area. Those into magic were often private people, who didn't like prying eyes. Fortunately, he wasn't the only person who stood out.

An obvious merc, who was doing a poor job of trying to look, well, like him. If his ruffled and unfitted clothing wasn't a giveaway, his stench surely was. He was impatient, waiting for his contact to meet up with him. This should be fun. He approached the man swiftly out of the crowd, adopting a slack jawed look of stupidity that seemed to go with the overall makeup of the group.

"I'm here." He grunted. The man looked him up and down, a suspicious look in his eyes.
"Where you be gettin' them fancy clothes at, eh?" He asked, managing to string words together.
"Nicked 'em off some dandy after I smashed his 'ead. Left him in a haystack. Can you believe me luck?"

The man regarded him for a moment, then snorted with laughter. It peeled on for a good length of time, before he motioned for him to follow him into the shop.

"You bring the coin?" He asked his supposed contact.
"'Course I did." Warde, the imposter, responded.

The shop was a sight to behold. But that wasn't what drew his attention, nor what made him feel a strange sense of recognition. He felt sure he knew the person he now beheld in his vision. But from where? Then she noticed them.


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Character Portrait: Thomas Warde
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"Oy, what the hell is wrong with you?" The harsh whisper tore Warde's attention away from the silver-haired vision. "Focus."

"Right..." Warde replied, falling in behind the man as they entered the sprawling shop. Warde mentally shook himself, refocusing himself on his job. He didn't have time to gawk at pretty women, no matter how familiar they seemed. The thug seemed to at least know what his job was, because even though he seemed unsure of himself, he was able to pick out things from the list. Oh, he memorized the shopping list. Impressive. Warde thought to himself, settling back into his stride.

It was fortunate, to be sure. Warde had no idea what the hell any of the things on the list were. The only things he knew about magic was how to protect himself against it, and in some cases, kill those who used it. At some point, the thug became stumped. He then pulled what Warde could only assume was a ciphered copy of the shopping list, in full view of everyone. Warde blinked. Sure, it was somewhat secure. But, to whip it out in public? People had been arrested for that sort of thing before.

"Do you know what this is?" The thug whispered, leaning over and pointing to the list. Warde stared at him incredulously.
"You don't know? Gee, why don't we just ask someone." Warde growled back.
"Oy, you! I could some help!" The thug called. Warde slammed his face into the palm of his hand.
"I was being sarcastic! Why the hell would you call more attention to us?" Warde whispered harshly. It was too late, as someone swished over to address them. Warde detached from the company, expertly melding away and perusing the shelves. His ears perked up, curious as to how the fool would explain what he was looking for.

Then he saw her again. The conversation faded out, his eyes beginning to track her as though of their own accord. He watched her move, a strong feeling of familiarity washing over him. He knew her, he was sure. But from where? It was almost a nostalgic feeling, like remembering something cherished from his youth. He watched her, subtly, until he received a tap on the shoulder.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" The thug asked him.
"Nothin'. You get what you needed?" Warde replied, adopting his cover instantly.
"I think. But hey, if I didn't, maybe the boss won't know the difference? All this shite, he's likely to miss something."

Warde followed him to the counter, ready to pay for the goods. He indeed had a slush fund of coins and various goods he had taken from various villains. Hopefully this magic crap didn't drain it entirely. It would be a small price to pay, though, if it meant a real lead. He pulled a pouch of coins from his belt, the coins clinking cheerfully.

"You think that'll be enough?" The thug asked.
"Better be, or else you're going to have to pawn those clothes." Warde replied, guffawing stupidly. He waited for someone to appear behind the counter.