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[RP] The Second World

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Lunartic:
She sighed and looked up wistfully with eyes as blue as the sky above. "Yeah . . . I wish we weren't brought here so quickly though." She dug out a tent and bedroll and began to set it up as her companion was. "I think it would have been interesting to actually see this world and what it has to offer, instead of it all just being a blur." A sudden gust wind blew hair into her face. "Pbbt! Hey, come on!" It settled down and she managed to part it once more, although it certainly wasn't as neat. "I've lived on a farm my whole life. My line of work is pretending I'm a noble's mistress. Hell, that's what I'll be doing here too. I just . . ." She leaned against a massive tree. The subtle, noble-esque undertone in her voice was gone. What little air of formality she had left was gone, and instead she looked and sounded like a tall, unceremonious farm girl in ranger's clothing. "It's great and all. It's not like I won't enjoy it. I mean, this is what I've dreamed of since I was a little girl. But every once in a while, I want something different. I want to use this," she plucked at her bowstring, "to hunt. Gather my own food and prepare it over a fire somewhere in the wilderness. Live off the land like the forest elves do. Maybe not forever, but . . ." she cocked her head slightly and looked at Tyrren. "You know what I mean?"

WhistfulSoul:
Tyrren listened to the girl until he realized that she had asked of his thoughts. I understand. I've been on a farm my whole life as well, and this is actually the chance that I've been waiting for. Something to do, something that will prove that I'm worth something in someones eyes, a chance to show me that I'm needed, and not just the town drunk's son. He paused for a second, and flinched at his own words. Well, he's not the town drunk, but he gets the whole town drunk, supplying barley for any amount of beer. He looked out on the horizon, to where the stars all peeked their faces out, one by one. I just want a chance to be my own person. All I've done is listen to what my father tells me to do, and work towards the Maker knows what. Guess that's why I've never had a penchant for religion. He turned to the beautiful girl, wondering how she ended up where they were. You're lucky, sought after by many. Though I suppose it's not always in the best of ways.

GM Post

@Daylin

The girl laid down in the bed, and fell to dreams beside the man. He soon followed suit, on caution in case the Orc guard came back.

@Jacob

A scroll was slipped under his door while he lay in bed, unconscious. Inside was a note detailing for him to go to the royal library, with a small hand-drawn map.

@Duriel

As the dwarf slept, a dwarven wagon stopped beside the tree, apparently on it's way into the dwarven capital. A small man steps out. Well I suppose we'll just have to wait till morn to bring this here back to the tavern. It's a right piece of luck wine can't turn. He noticed Duriel sleeping on the tree. Aha! And I suppose I can wait to see if this young lad wants some extra coin!

@Neicha

A beast-like with similarities to a bear turned in the direction of the voice. What could be described as a smile could be seen in the light of the fire. You're just the person we've been out looking for! And to think we were going to give up and cut our losses! He stretched out his paw. Name's Slackjaw, or Rockjaw, depending on when you catch me!

The-Blades-slave:
Was it real, Daylin wondered, as he trudged towards the fields with two big buckets in either hand. It had really seemed to be. His muscles still ached from stomping around in that heavy armor, but Floressa had once told him that if someone thought about something enough, their mind would try anything to make it real. He had checked on her before he left home; she was soundly asleep in her bed, and he didn't have the gall to wake her. He was nervous to even mention it to her, afraid she might think him crazy. His only solution was to see if he went back tonight, as the goddess had told him he would. For once, he was glad for the backbreaking work ahead of him.

When the farmhand reached the fields, two pairs of blank eyes stared at him. The dairy cows were big, fat animals and their udders sagged with milk. Should have been out here last week, he chided himself, they've probably been in a lot of pain. As if they could read his thoughts, one of them mooed loudly, and he patted her on the head. "C'mon girls, lets get ya fixed up." They followed him slowly, stopping to graze the grass and wandering off at times. Daylin was very patient, used to their absent-mindedness, and they eventually got to the barn. He rested his enormous bulk upon a wooden stool, which groaned in protest, and beckoned the closest cow over.

The buckets were all filled by the time he was done, and he cautiously lead the cattle back to the grazing fields, careful not to spill anything. The trip back to the house was harder, since he had to hop the fence that kept the animals in, but he managed it without incident. He noticed a familiar figure waiting on the porch as he arrived. "Hey, need anythin'?"

The woman shook her head and tutted at him, wagging her finger as she scolded, "Daylin, you don't have to do all this on your own. All you have to do is ask for help," she reached out and took two of the buckets from him before he could protest. "It's not healthy to wake up as early as you do and not even stop by for lunch!" She lead him inside, tossing the door open and motioning for him to lay the buckets in the corner.

"I've told ya before, I'm used to gettin' up that early and I bring food out with me."

"Nonsense! It's not good for you to work so much, it'll make you old before your time. Come join us for lunch, there's nothing else to be done around here today!" She left little room to argue, and he awkwardly shuffled into the kitchen, resting himself on one of the chairs. Diodoros sat across from him, and his gaze rested on him as sat down.

"How are those ol' heffers doin'? Think they'll need to go to the slaughterhouse soon?"

Daylin shook his head and told him they had a couple years left before that, and shoveled a spoonful of leftover stew into his mouth. Within moments, the two were lost in talk about the condition the farm was in, when the sheep would need to be sheared, thoughts on getting a herding dog, and how long until the pigs would be big enough to cook up.

They talked for hours, and Daylin had to admit it felt good to take a break. It was over soon enough, though, because he had to leave to lock up the animals before the sundown and round up the eggs from the hen house. By the time he had finished both tasks and tucked the eggs safely away in their container, it was dark, and he retired to his bed. His thoughts were on the strangely feral woman and the orcs as the thick blanket of sleep washed over his mind and his eyes drifted shut.

WhistfulSoul:
After their talk seemed to trail off and the girl seemed to be nodding off, Tyrren suggested the two get some sleep so they were at least somewhat rested for the task ahead. He laid down and before he knew it he was bolting upright in the barn, hitting his head on the beam above him. Sh*t! How long have I been asleep? He turned to see Raika with his snout shoved in the hay Tyrren had slept on, munching away on his afternoon snack. From what he could tell, his father had stepped up and made sure that everything was in order. He snuck out of the window in the barn and circled around the house to see where his father was. As it were, his father was nowhere to be found, but there was a note inside telling Tyrren not to worry about chores, that they were all taken care of. His father had gone into town to gather some things they needed, and he would be back in time for supper, should it be ready.

As he walked into his room, Tyrren's hand crumpled the note in disdain. He didn't want to dislike his father, it was simply that he didn't feel that his father liked him as much as he would have liked. Tyrren slumped onto his bed, and his hand fell onto his pack, which jolted his memory of the day he had spent on a world not his own. His mind raced, trying to make sense of all that his memory had to offer and what it all meant. He had a quick thought to tell his father, but he didn't think the man would appreciate an elaborate excuse as to why his son shirked his work. Maybe when we're on better terms. He thought about the girl he had set up camp with, and compared her to the girl that he was interested in impressing from his home. He chuckled to himself, realizing how futile either would be to chase after. He wasn't impressive, and didn't think he would be for quite some time.

As the sun fell, Tyrren made a stew and made sure all the evening chores were completed. His father returned and Tyrren helped him unload all of the supplies that he had brought back, many of which he noted were to fix the rat problem once and for good. The two ate dinner in silence, the kind one might have after a fight that they wish to apologize for. As Tyrren passed his father and trudged into his room to sleep, the one thought that hadn't crossed his mind since he woke up popped into his mind: Was the other world actually real? He slid into his cot and wondered when his father peeked into the doorway. Son, I'm sorry for being so hard on you. I just want you to be a good kid, one others can count on, and one that you don't doubt. There was worry in his voice, and Tyrren was taken aback by his father's softness. Don't worry, Dad. You can count on me, even if I don't show it.

His father nodded, a small speck of water in his eye. As he walked away, Tyrren could feel the familiar grasp of dreams herding him towards his new task. Again he immediately woke, and before he could begin to weep for his lost dreams, he realized that he was again in the world that could be composed of them. Staring out from his tent he could see another, which he assumed the girl from the previous day was asleep within. He cleaned up his belongings then waited for Floressa to wake up so they could enter the capital together.

GM Post

@Jake

As the beast-boy walked through the forest, he thought he felt an extra shadow following him. As he turned to inspect what might give him a shiver down his spine, an assassin in dark plate armor jumped from a tree, pinning him to the ground. Kaiyos formed his body and ran at the man, Hey! Get off him! He's under protection of the goddess! The man turned to the boy and sliced through him with a hidden blade that protruded from his sleeve. Sorry, his allegiances have... realigned themselves. Kaiyos turned into a cloud, unable to help the beast. Sorry, Jake. The man turned back to Jake. Let's take a trip, shall we?

The man stabbed Jake through the chest, and instead of blood, smoke poured out of his body, engulfing both man and boy. When it faded, both were gone.

@Daylin

The orc guard that was keeping post outside Daylin's tent threw open the flap. In walked an orc dressed in bone, flanked by two others similarly dressed. He looked around suspiciously before addressing one of his officers. Wake him. Find the woman. She has to be here somewhere. One of the officers grabbed Daylin and flung him to the ground, and the other exited the tent, apparently in search of the woman Star, who was in the tent with Daylin the night prior. The giant shook his head to rid himself of his new headache while trying to remember when the girl left, then remembered her plan of the poison. The orc in bones faced him. I am Zang, Chieftain of the Orcs. You have entered into my lands without permission or notice. For this, you face trial by war. You shall face ten of our best warriors in combat, all of which are my officers. If you manage to best them, I may allow you to leave. The orc turned to his remaining officer. Have him gather his belongings and bring him to the arena. He has ten minutes to prepare himself for the onslaught that is facing him.

Desbear:
Day in... Day out. It was always the same. Go to the bar. Serve customers. Break up four to five fights. Call the dwarven police. Leave. Go home. Sleep. It was always. The same. He had been doing this for what, a year now? He hadn't truly thought about it until now, but... Was this what he wanted to do? To go to work, go home, go to sleep, wake up, go to work again? Did he really want to toil away for his entire life...? He wanted to stop thinking about it, he wanted to go back to his job, he wanted to think about normal things, but... He couldn't after having a taste of a different life, after even just thoughts of it... He couldn't stop thinking about it... And he didn't know what he would do if it was just a dream...

The dwarf slumped down in his bed as he attempted to go to sleep, hoping... No, pleading that the world of magic, and adventure wasn't a dream... And he wasn't disappointed. When he came to, he was no longer in his home, but within the world of magic, under that tree he had slept under... Originally, his first order of business was going to be the tavern, to listen for information... But that would wait for breakfast. He opened his sack, and began to take out a piece of bread, and some water in a canteen, eating just a bit, and drinking a small amount, as if to conserve it. It wasn't until he was putting his food and drink back into the sack, that he noticed the wagon beside him. He also noticed a few other dwarven men around the tree, just sort of lounging about as if resting. Some were whittling, some were reading, one was even knitting. The dwarf laughed, and began to try to speak to them, a tone of jest to his voice. "Oi, I didn't know this was a common resting spot."

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