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Whisper

Talking your way into a grave is easy. Talking your way out, now that's talent.

0 · 1,321 views · located in The Snapa-verse

a character in “Nomad Clan”, as played by WilPen

Description

"These knives are like children, they often ruin someone's day."

ImageName: Whitier Hellseher. Though she is more commonly called Whisper, due to the nature of her job.
Sex: Female
Age: 19

Physical Description: Whisper could easily be described as small. Her slim frame is soft and curved, very deceiving to the fight held within. She may have a soft shape, but don’t be surprised if you catch a glimpse of her lean, slim muscle when she is running for her life. Her appearance is lithe and a simple distraction from the fact that she is an a foe to be reckoned with, and she isn't afraid to exert her dominance.

Though she is naturally pale, Whisper's hands and face have been weathered by travel and battle. They've lost their youthful glow, freckled by the sun and marred by scars. Her face is usually graced with a sly smirk, like she’s up to something. Nine times out of ten, she is. Behind the hood, pink, untameable waves make themselves at home. Though they are often blocked by the brim of her hat, her irises are also an unnatural shade of pink, representative of the Goddess Ghirina.

Families in the Hellseher Clan each select a patron God to honor and ask for protection. This color is used throughout the home and is represented in the members of the family as well. Adopting the color used to represent them in festivals and divine ceremonies, a child born into the house has their hair stained at birth. Once they reach their first year, a pilgrimage is set for the family to travel to the frigid waters high in the mountains where child's eyes are treated with the liquid. It is said to be the highest honor to the Gods.

Clothing: Due to the transient nature of her job, she dresses for practicality. She covers as much of her body as possible to equally protect from deadly sun, excruciating cold, or being identified by the wrong people. She is usually covered in black, but dark grays and the occasional white garments might make their way into her ensemble. No matter the time of day, if she is in public, she wears her hood and a cap.
Height: 5'2"
Weight: 100 lbs.
Skin Colour: White with near-permanent tan lines.
Hair Colour: Pink
Eye Colour: Light pink, almost white.

Occupation: Secret Keeper
History/Bio: Whisper was born in the treacherous valleys of Bola Brisk. Though she's a descendant of the founder of the settlement, Hellseherin Proper, it was anything but an easy life. Her birthright, as it is called by her people, was Secret Keeper; much to the despair of her mother. Her training was a rigorous study of general survival skills, hand to hand combat, dagger use, and concocting poisons from ingredients found throughout the desert.

Her father was the Clan Leader that made the decree for her to be a Secret Keeper, but she may be exempt. Should she be named as his successor, she'd be free to stay in Hellseherin Proper. Unfortunately, she was fairly vocal about her doubts that the Gods would continually select their family for leadership when they had so many others to choose from. Though she hadn't meant to imply corruption in her father, he took it as such as was quick to announce the Gods had decreed Vada would take his place when the time came.

With her older sister selected to be the successor to the Clan Leader, Whisper was sentenced to a transient lifestyle with no place to call home. As is the way of the Secret Keeper, she left Hellseherin with a backpack containing a small amount of money, the clothes on her back, and the weapons at her side. She's since traveled the desert, sending all but a small stipend back to her family to be distributed among the people. The Summer Bazaar is a time when a good number of Keepers meet up in Dol-Duna to compare stories over a drink and sell their 'wares'. It's the closest thing any of them have to a home.
Home Town: Hellseherin Proper
Native Clan: Hellseher Clan
Population: 2000 People total [Only around 500 people are in Hellfeherin Proper at any given time.]
Settlements: Hellseherin Proper, a small nameless settlement in Alhara.
Location: Bola Brisk Mountains, The Qafar Desert.
Description:
The Hellseherin Clan is said to be ruled by the Gods themselves. On a day to day basis, however, it is ultimately ruled by a Clan Leader. Though his family is also treated as royalty, they have no political power themselves. The Clan Leader acts as the Mouthpiece of the Gods to share their will with the people. The person to succeed the Clan Leader is also chosen by the Gods. It's probably a coincidence the Gods have favored the Hellseherin family since the creation of the clan.

Anyone could tell you Bola Brisk is impossible to farm and everyone seems to have a fundamental misunderstanding of how the power crystals work. Thus, the people of Hellseherin Proper found another way to survive. Such is human ingenuity. By Divine Intervention, as interpreted by the Clan Leader, clan members are chosen at birth to fulfill occupations in society. There are three main branches of Birthrights:

Most are trained as mercenaries and sold like livestock to the highest bidder. After the contract has been fulfilled, they return home only to be sold again. It isn't a bad life, you get to return home; even in death.

The second most common birthright is akin to clerical duties. Sure, some of these people will become doctors or fill some other important necessity. Most end up as drones carrying out manual labor. Holding the purse strings makes them very popular people. It's a safe, if boring, job that fills a necessary hole in society.

A select few 'lucky' infants are chosen to become Secret Keepers. This is a bit of a misnomer as they collect secrets to sell. Secret Keepers are meant to travel beyond the walls of Hellseherin Proper to collect secrets. During training, there are many tales of heroic Keepers attempting to go beyond the White Ruins to secure the biggest secret of all. Of course, they are called heroic as they died for the cause. A secret could mean any manner of information: stories, rumors, testimonies, anything. Once a Keeper has information, they broker deals to sell. Secret Keepers bring more money to their clan than any other position, but they also have the highest mortality rate. The kind of people that purchase information from a Keeper are usually also the kind to hire an assassin. It is a sign of disrespect for a Secret Keeper to return home before they reach old age and are cast out of the tribe. Even returning as an Elder has its drawbacks, it is said anyone who survives as a Keeper didn't do enough for the clan. It is better to die chasing nothing than living a long life.

While Hellseherin is a thriving city now, the current and past Clan Leaders have yet to see the merit in find other sources of income.

Personality: Whisper almost has a split personality. When meeting a mark: she practically radiates danger, even if she's simply standing there; leaned against the bar, hands crossed over her chest, and her head tilted just enough to make you think she’s debating on killing you. She walks with a swift pride that hardly goes unnoticed. She makes no effort to hide her authority. This is her game and you are just playing in it. Her voice never breaching a whisper, she’ll have gotten what she came for and left before anyone else even realizes she’s there. She’s calm, collected, and calculating; always looking for her next hit.

When among friends: she has a much harder time saving face. Talking is one of her favorite activities, but her training and occupation made it difficult to speak with someone as a friend rather than goading them into sharing their darkest secrets. She hasn’t yet found any true friends since leaving her homeland. Bars have been a suitable source of casual interaction, but it isn’t enough. That said, she is the type of person to stab first, ask questions later at any hint of malice. This hasn’t made her very popular. Revealing her birthname is her highest sign of trust and respect.

Fears and Desires: Whisper above all else wishes to return home, if only for a short while. Her greatest fear is that she should die before seeing her parents again.

Equipment and Weapons: Sending her money home hasn't done Whisper any favors. She's carried everything she owns in one pack. Though it's a lot heavier than when she left Hellseherin, it still has room. She has a few changes of clothes, a small tent and provisions of water and food. Her pack is also equipped with supplies to make her own poisons. On a belt at her hip, she carries two daggers and a dozen throwing knives, and vials of paralytic poisons.
Styles and Abilities: Whisper relies on stealth more heavily than any other skill she has. She can get in and out of most places unseen and likes it that way. Less bloodshed is what she wants. However, if she senses any sort of danger in an interaction, she'll not hesitate to attack. Her tactic of choice is paralyzing the enemy and running. She can hold her own in a hand to hand battle, but would still prefer the element of surprise as she usually has a disadvantage on size.

So begins...

Whisper's Story

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Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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Xaverius then got up, stumbling over to the man. "Hey man... -hic- no need for violence here, come on, calm down and have a drink." He then opened his arms and embraced Dustin, in an attempted hug.

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Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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#, as written by Jaek
"Watch yourself, Keeper," he spat.

Dustin turned towards the large man, sizing him up. "You're no outsider. I know a Dead Forester when I see one." He cast a glance at the Hellseherin once more, letting her know she hadn't escaped his attention. "Raising your voice doesn't provide harm to one's person nor harm to their property. The Wetlander was both erratic and unpredictable, as well as having damaged one's belongings. Step back, friend. I meant no harm until I had kitchenware thrown at m-"

Dustin lurched forward both in surprise and in response to sudden extra weight thrust upon him by a surprise hug. "What the..." Dustin simply shrugged and patted the clearly drunken man on the back, embracing him back. "See? I can be nice, just don't throw cups at me."

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Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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"Hooray for friendship!" Xaverius exclaimed, still holding onto Dustin somewhat. He then let go and went back to the bar. "Bartender, another drink please." He said, laying some more caps on the counter, the bartender took them and gave him the drink, which he passed to Dustin.

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Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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#, as written by WilPen
Whisper's other bar friend surprised her with his hug. It was super effective it appeared though as the Atzeriian just patted him on the arm. She scrunched her nose, appraising his face. He seemed sincere enough, but that didn't mean much from his clan.

"It's an instinct. I won't do it again." She wasn't apologizing, but she did feel a little bad.

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Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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Sören had been ready for conflict, but he was also feeling warm which, in combination with the ice runes which should have been keeping him cold since he activated them just a moment ago, meant he was getting drunk. Letting out a sigh in the form of a white puff of mist before his face, the northman watches as the clanless man seems to defuse the situation by hugging the loud man. He looks over to Whisper, then takes a step back, as the loud man had suggested he do, but only so that he could remove his cloak.

Without this garment his arms were bare and his actual attire, and weapons, were revealed. It was clear now that all Sören wore was a leather vest and a pair of baggy, durable pants. At his waist he had, on one side a leather pouch and on the other side hung a black iron handaxe. Strapped to his back was his prized possession, a spear with a black wooden haft as tough as iron, and a spearhead carved from a saber cat fang. After folding up his cloak and laying it over his helm, he adjusts his spear, and for a moment the runes on both his weapon and his arms glow blue, then wink out.

"Perhaps you are right friend." Sören says as he stakes his seat, slipping another crystal out of his pouch to pay for two drinks, one for himself and one for the new man. When the bartender places the two mugs before him, Sören offers one to the tall stranger. "Sit with us and let us speak of this like men," he glances over at Whisper, "And a woman."

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Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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"As well as having plenty on drink!" Xaverius added, chuckling and taking a swig from his mug. He had been though about 4 or so mugs so he was starting to get pretty hammered.

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Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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#, as written by Jaek
Dustin decided to take the invitation. It was a free drink anyways, so why not?

"Yes, let's," he replied as he pulled up a stool and sat beside the two. "What's brought you so far down south, my friend?" The Kassellander glanced at the Dead Forester, still trying to guess his specific clan. The runic tattoos weren't necessarily a rarity of his people, but their small amount of luminescence and slight chill definitely threw him off.

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Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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Now that he got a good look at the man, Sören could tell that he was from Ariket. The Rotgevir clan had had dealings with the Ariket people many times, and Sören had been forced to pass through their lands in order to reach Dol-Duna. He could have braved the mountain passes on his own, or with just Duneyrr at his side, but with the wagon and the goods it would have been too much of a risk. In any case, he knew the people of Ariket, the ones his father dealt with, to be honorable, and so he decided that this really was just a misunderstanding.

He still didn't know what the man meant about the knife though.

"My name is Sören Ahlgren, of clan Rotgevir." The northman says, raising his mug to his chest before lifting it up to his lips and draining half of it's contents into his belly. Few people who knew the Dead Forest clans believed him when he said this though, as he looked almost nothing like his father or brothers. He was shorter than any of them, with skin tanned from his treks to the desert proper. He favored his mother much more, with his dark hair and softer facial features, but he did share the Rotgevir clan's odd blue eyes with grey flecks. "I travel to this village once each year to trade furs and timber and other such goods. And yourself? I've seen few of the Ariket people here this year, not with such fine weapons."

One thing he had taken away from the harsh warrior training his father had put him through for so many years was to always recognize when a person, man or woman, especially a woman, was armed, and what they were armed with. This man carried a fine, curved blade, and Sören thought he had spotted the handle of a dagger or two as the man took his seat.

(OOC: no idea if the daggers he carries are supposed to be hidden or not)

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Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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"I came to this village from the east." Xaverius started, his words were somewhat slurred. "I've been wandering around pretty much all my life, I left my family when I was only 18, to put that into perspective I'm 40 now. I've kinda been meaning to see if I can find them. On another note, I also do a lot of scavenging, found some cool old tech that I traded in for some tape just as I got here." He took another swig of his mug.

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Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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#, as written by WilPen
With the situation calmed down, everyone seemed to take a seat. Whisper righted the stool that had been knocked over when she ran into the bar earlier. Glancing around the area, she saw quite a few items scattered around the floor having been knocked over in the tussle.

Taking her seat and ordering another mug, the pink woman turned to the newly calmed man. Not wanting to start something else, she bit her tongue and allowed the others to pull the information from him. The Atzerii and Hellseher Clans hadn't gotten along for as long as anyone could care to remember. In the Hellseher Clan, they are told stories of the monstrous things the Atzerii are capable of. It is never safe to let your guard down around them, let alone trust them.

And here was Whisper, more or less having a drink with him. What is the world coming to?

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Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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#, as written by Jaek
Dustin set his mug down in surprise. "A Rotgevir? Really?" He looked the man up and down. "Forgive me, but I never would have guessed." He nodded as he listened to the man named Soren speak of his reasons for travel. "The Bazaar is an excellent source of trade and culture, you're smart to come down here with such rare goods from the Dead Forest. And aye, those from Ariket aren't much for travel. The mountains themselves are desolate enough, to leave the safety of their settlements in order to trek the Sea of Sand is less than ideal to them. The Atzerii specifically, my people, live on the easternmost stretch of Ariket. My settlement, Kasselland, was attacked by raiders originating from the Sea of Sand. A party of some warriors, including myself, left to track them down. Now I find myself here."

He took another sip. "Hence the weapons. And you, my friend," he said turning to Xaverius. "You must have countless stories to tell. You should share a tale in our company some time, I can hardly imagine wandering about for most of my life." The Kassellander glanced at the Hellseherin with the hood and pink hair, thinking for a moment. "You're more than welcome to introduce yourself as well. My qualms are with your sellswords, not a Secret Keeper."

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Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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#, as written by WilPen
Whisper gave Dustin a rye smile, "There is not much difference between the two." She leaned towards the man and offered some nuts that she had taken from her bag. "I am called Whisper. If you know what I am then you know I will not reveal more than that. For now." She cocked her head to the side, "Do you seek a Telling? I may know something about these raiders."

Setting

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Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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"I have plenty of tales to tell!" Xaverius began, still heavily drunk. "For starters, there was this one time, there I was, mindin' my own business, when suddenly I felt this sharp pain in my leg. So I look down and see something stickin' out my shoe, so I take it off and there was a snake in my boot! A whole live snake! Luckily it seemed to be one of the non-poisonous ones, otherwise I wouldn't be here tellin' you lot about it!" He gave a hearty laugh and took another deep swig from his mug, almost immediately ordering another one.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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"And this is why I do not wear boots." Sören says before emptying his mug and setting it back on the counter. He thinks about ordering another drink, but it is still early, and he still has to set up his stall. So many things have happened this day, just in a few short hours, that it seems a week has passed. Trade in Dol-Duna has never been so lively for him. "The ice magic of my runes helps too, though."

"I suppose you could say that I am of Rotgevir, but just barely. And not for long." Sören says, looking out the window at a memory. "My father and I have differing views, and I've always taken more after my mother. That's why my heritage is not at first apparent."

Einar Ahlgren was a hard man, and stubborn. He believed that they clan would last forever following the old ways of war and sleeping gods. He saw no reason to trade with anyone south of Ariket. If the Dead Forest does not provide it for us, then we have no need of it! That's what Einar had told his son when Sören had declared that he planed to become a merchant. Only Sören's mother had been able to talk the clan leader into allowing this. She had encouraged her boy, as Sören was her only son, his brothers had come from another of Einar's wives who had passed on.

Sören shakes his head as he looks back to the group at hand. "One of the wise women of my village, the same one who etched these runes into my flesh, told me that I would never return to my homeland."

It was then that the doors of The Iron Bar were flung open and, oddly a gust of cold wind roared into the establishment from the streets outside. With this wind came a white stag, who was chewing on an apple, and looked rather irritated. Duneyrr made his way directly for Sören.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Uluru Character Portrait: Skullivan Character Portrait: Ka'Wa Jekund Character Portrait: Aisha 'Ai' Abdul'la Character Portrait: Musa Grazing Bull Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten
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#, as written by Nulix
The Wetlander Traitor stared at Aisha, wide-eyed at her proposition, and the hand she now offered him. But instead, of taking it, he slapped it - like some sort of high-five, before approaching the bars and standing over her. "In the Wetlands we don't... have your legends, we don't have the Change or whatever. I didn't even know much about it... until..." He swallowed, glancing up at Aisha - looking her in the eyes. "Until I found out it was real."

As Uluru walked away the stones as his feet began to rumble. A rotting apple shook off a stand and splattered onto his feet. Uluru grimaced, feeling the rotting apple juice seeping through his boats and trickling in between his toes. Skullivan grabbed hold of his wooden bars as they began to vibrate. "Oh no..." He whispered. "Oh no..."

***

In the Iron Bar the chairs began to vibrate, the glasses beginning to clatter. The bartender grabbed hold as a few bottles vibrated off his shelf and shattered on the earth-floor of the bar. "No! Do you know how valuable liquid is, how hard it is to get drink to Dol-Duna!" The bartender exclaimed as across the bar more drinks shattered off tables - but no one was listening. Instead people's eyes were to the windows, where the sunlight was blocked out.

***

Outside all eyes were off Skullivan's cage as above the rooftops a massive object covered the sky. Made of metal and machinery it was clear, but cleanly disguised in a way none in the Qafar had seen. Smooth black metal panels, glass windows, and a low-hum hung beneath a mile of armour-reinforced, triangular balloon. On the side, in thirty foot white letters were the words WETLANDER. This was their Leviathan Airship - and from the grounds of the bazaar, despite it flying only slightly above the rooftops, it was impossible to see the entire thing end to end.

The body of the black airship came to a halt atop the bazaar - the only sunlight coming in around it's gigantic form. It was nearly the length of Dol-Duna entirely. Suddenly dozens ladders flung down from all along the length of the airship, unravelling and hitting the ground. From the skies figures began to slide down toward the sandy town below. Black-uniformed soldiers, clean leather boots and gloves and helmets with silver design of a wave on them. On their backs massive rifles and swords with electrical static visible sparking off them. Once they hit the ground the soldiers would run to the sides of the bazaar, instantly blocking off entrance to the main-street.

From the centre of the airship a blast of air came out, a platform lowering from the belly of the beast. "Friends!" A loud, slightly smug voice called from the platform. In the centre was a man in a black uniform - though different from the soldiers that now surrounded the bar. Much more fanciful. The man had golden-brown hair combed back, squinting eyes, and a slightly smug smile. He had his hands behind his back as he descended. Two other figures stood behind him, but remained silent.

The platform reached the ground, at the entrance of the Iron Bar, where the terrified townsfolk backed away. The brown haired man stepped off the platform casually. "The Dol-Duna Summer Bazaar," He commented, stepping toward a stand and pulling a necklace of jewels off it. "Nice." He flicked it away, casually pulling a pistol out and swinging it around those present. "As you may have guessed we are from the Wetlands. I'm leading us into... your charming little desert. On behalf of our leaders," He began, looking around the bazaar. "And we are on the lookout for one man." One of the other's on the platform pulled out a small device, a red hologram of Skullivan's face lighting up on it.

"That man!" The man, seemingly the leader of the airship, spoke up. "Is a traitor. And a very dangerous criminal. And he's somewhere in your town, probably killing someone! I don't know!" The leader said, before turning away. "So, we are willing to offer fifty golden Wetland coins as reward for anyone who turns him in." On the platform behind him a chest of gold was opened - coins were worthless in the desert, each clan either trading or having their own system. But gold was gold, in any form.

The leader glanced back at the crowds. "We'll just keep our guards posted to make sure no one leaves until we get him. Sound fair?"

At the entrances the black Wetlander guards rose their electric rifles in unison, and by the cage where our heroes were camped out they would notice Skullivan vanished - the wooden bars that Sören had weakened now completely broken. The more watchful of the group may have noticed the tatters of his black uniform running off into an alley...

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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"I have more stories for you guys!" He continued, taking a swig of his new mug. "Alright, so.... in my travels I've always had a bit o' a problem with clothes, can't really find any that fit, so I have to make my own, not too hard, just some cloth, string and a small pointy object and hey presto! But I'm losing track, so, during one of my many outings, I came across some pristine old wear garbs! I mean they were as if they hadn't been used ever! Found them in some sort of ruined building, has some sorta name on the front, but I couldn't read it. So seeing as these were some nice clothes, I decided to try some on." He took a pause to take another swig of alcohol. "I looked though and found the pieces of a nice snazzy outfit, some sorta suit I think. As soon as I tried putting it on I knew it wasn't my size, I had to really heave to get them on, and as soon as I get them on, I stretch a little and I suddenly hear "RIIIIIIIP!" I look to my side and see one 'o the leggin's on the pants had ripped! I go to take them off and suddenly the buttons on the shirt shot off like bullets for a gun!" He laughed, taking another swig of booze. "So after feelin' kinda embarrassed, I laid the torn up garb aside and put back on what you see me wearin' now." He took one last swig of his drink, ordering yet another.

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Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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#, as written by Nulix
Suddenly the doors of the bar were punched open, splinters of wood flying into the air as a black-uniformed Wetland soldiers entered into unison. Gasps were heard followed by silence as the team of soldiers approached, casually smashing tables in and throwing drinks onto the ground. "Everyone on your feet," A helmeted Wetlander announced over the packed room. "We're looking for a criminal. A Wetland Traitor."

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Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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"Can't say I've heard of them, sorry lads, me and my buddies were just having a drink and tellin' stories." Xaverius responded to the soliders. "If ya want one help yourself!" He added in a cheery demeanor.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Uluru Character Portrait: Elise Seaver Character Portrait: Ka'Wa Jekund Character Portrait: Aisha 'Ai' Abdul'la Character Portrait: Musa Grazing Bull Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten
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#, as written by Nulix
The Wetland leader turned to Uluru - who had stepped forward from the crowd. "Sorry, who are you?" The leader questioned, glancing back at his soldiers. "Who is he?" The leader glanced at Uluru again before smiling. "You want the gold, cowboy, it's yours - for the man." The leader glanced up over the market, as several armoured characters in the crowd had pulled out their weapons and descended into shop entrances and side-streets - warriors and mercenaries attending the festival, obviously also on the hunt for Skullivan and the reward of gold. "Whoever brings him to us gets the prize. And we let your bizarre bazaar continue on."

The leader turned to Uluru before shooing him away with his pistol. "Go on. Fetch."

***

"Oh yeah, thanks," The soldier said, grabbing Rusten's drink and smashing it into the ground before kicking his table over, causing Xaverius and the other's he spoke to to raise. "WETLAND TRAITOR. HAVE YOU SEEN HIM?" The soldier yelled at Rusten as his comrades searched the bar. The barkeeper cried in the corner over his expensive drinks.

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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"Like I said before, no. Now please calm down, I'm drunk and tryin' to have some fun, okay?" He didn't take any real note to the drink being smashed, he was simply too drunk too drunk to really want a fight. "And my friends have been here with me for a few hours now, so they probably didn't see them either."