07-09-2017, 09:06 PM
Clank.
The sound echoed throughout the emptiness surrounding them, like, well, like an amazonian woman covered in more steel than a Dwarvish mine would produce on a good day. Vulre was not particularly good with metaphors, but he prided himself on his awareness. The day he couldn’t hear someone creeping up behind him would be the day they could put him to bed with a shovel.
But today was not that day. Eyes just a shade too dark to be expected from a living being ran over the gleaming steel that encased the newcomer, a drastic difference from the dark leather and cloth that clothed himself and the infuriatingly quiet child. Pale blue eyes, bright with intellect watched him as he rose, leather and quilted cloth soundlessly moving against plates sewn into his shoulders. He was rather proud of the plates: Able to deflect the average blow from an Ogre, merely dislocating his shoulder instead of sending shards into his organs, as well as offsetting the traditionally lithe elven figure.
He could scarcely help but feel a touch of envy upon looking towards the new arrival: Steel coated her almost entirely, their comparatively diminutive face curiously unmarred, save for the freckles across the pale surface of her visage. She had a somewhat matronly appearance, despite the fact that she was plainly able to wrestle the average Orcish marauder to the floor, possibly even without the advantage of her warplate. A massive poleaxe, longer than its owner was tall, hung from her back, light blue runes glowing across its surface, a similar glow highlighting the curvature of her armour, leaving no doubt as to its power. The sight of magic caused the hunter to subconsciously reach for the six knives sheathed across his chest, arrayed in two rows of three. The comforting weight of the other blades up his sleeves and down his boots served to remind him of the reassuring presence of steel.
“Ho there,” he said, a moment after he dragged his fingers across the blades, confirming that the still-shrouded steels were prepared to slice and stab at the flesh of this unexpected interruption, need be. The ivory-clad men were twitchy, careful. They knew the power being gathered before them, and were in no hurry to see it be released upon their painfully mortal bodies.They whispered between each other, quietly debating whether it was better to flee and risk chase, or staying still and praying to the Emperor that they would be forgotten.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d be so kind as to keep your distance, ‘fore we get to know each other, hm?” They spoke, holding a gloved hand out to arrest the advance of this newcomer. “I’d usually be more than happy to share my name on such an occasion, but sadly, lil’ miss fearful over here doesn’t seem to want to uphold her end of our lil’ naming deal. It’s not like I don’t have enough names and titles to keep a clerk occupied for a good week, but it’s the principle of the thing, you understand?” He cocked an eyebrow beneath his helmet, noting the distinct lack of heraldry upon her armour. Some sort of heavy footman? He wasn’t aware of a tendency among lords to hire women for their bloody work, but things were bound to be different, if Omni had told the truth about the varied origins of these people. She certainly looked like she’d be able to crush a man’s skull with those gauntlets, though he was in no rush to witness such a thing first-hand.
He sighed, rubbing one hand against his wrist, feeling the blade concealed down his sleeve. “No reason for us to not be civilized, hm?”
The sound echoed throughout the emptiness surrounding them, like, well, like an amazonian woman covered in more steel than a Dwarvish mine would produce on a good day. Vulre was not particularly good with metaphors, but he prided himself on his awareness. The day he couldn’t hear someone creeping up behind him would be the day they could put him to bed with a shovel.
But today was not that day. Eyes just a shade too dark to be expected from a living being ran over the gleaming steel that encased the newcomer, a drastic difference from the dark leather and cloth that clothed himself and the infuriatingly quiet child. Pale blue eyes, bright with intellect watched him as he rose, leather and quilted cloth soundlessly moving against plates sewn into his shoulders. He was rather proud of the plates: Able to deflect the average blow from an Ogre, merely dislocating his shoulder instead of sending shards into his organs, as well as offsetting the traditionally lithe elven figure.
He could scarcely help but feel a touch of envy upon looking towards the new arrival: Steel coated her almost entirely, their comparatively diminutive face curiously unmarred, save for the freckles across the pale surface of her visage. She had a somewhat matronly appearance, despite the fact that she was plainly able to wrestle the average Orcish marauder to the floor, possibly even without the advantage of her warplate. A massive poleaxe, longer than its owner was tall, hung from her back, light blue runes glowing across its surface, a similar glow highlighting the curvature of her armour, leaving no doubt as to its power. The sight of magic caused the hunter to subconsciously reach for the six knives sheathed across his chest, arrayed in two rows of three. The comforting weight of the other blades up his sleeves and down his boots served to remind him of the reassuring presence of steel.
“Ho there,” he said, a moment after he dragged his fingers across the blades, confirming that the still-shrouded steels were prepared to slice and stab at the flesh of this unexpected interruption, need be. The ivory-clad men were twitchy, careful. They knew the power being gathered before them, and were in no hurry to see it be released upon their painfully mortal bodies.They whispered between each other, quietly debating whether it was better to flee and risk chase, or staying still and praying to the Emperor that they would be forgotten.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d be so kind as to keep your distance, ‘fore we get to know each other, hm?” They spoke, holding a gloved hand out to arrest the advance of this newcomer. “I’d usually be more than happy to share my name on such an occasion, but sadly, lil’ miss fearful over here doesn’t seem to want to uphold her end of our lil’ naming deal. It’s not like I don’t have enough names and titles to keep a clerk occupied for a good week, but it’s the principle of the thing, you understand?” He cocked an eyebrow beneath his helmet, noting the distinct lack of heraldry upon her armour. Some sort of heavy footman? He wasn’t aware of a tendency among lords to hire women for their bloody work, but things were bound to be different, if Omni had told the truth about the varied origins of these people. She certainly looked like she’d be able to crush a man’s skull with those gauntlets, though he was in no rush to witness such a thing first-hand.
He sighed, rubbing one hand against his wrist, feeling the blade concealed down his sleeve. “No reason for us to not be civilized, hm?”
Torcher of tomes, slayer of sorcerers, taker of ears, and flayer of men. Reasonable rates.