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[RP] The Second World

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The-Blades-slave:
Daylin froze, his axe-blade grounding to a halt inches from the fallen orc's throat. His gaze flickered between the Chieftain and the orc who held the woman had helped him, Star. His hands trembled on the grip of his weapon, unsure of what to do. Every bone in his body screamed to finish the fallen opponent, but looking at Star, bruised and terrified, he couldn't bring himself to do it."I give, jus' don't hurt her."

A big, heavily armored orc stepped forward and shuffled him away from the clearing and back to the tent he had stayed in, shoving him in roughly. Daylin stumbled, falling to his knees. The handle of the axe, still embedded in his leg, bumped against the ground and dug deeper into his skin.  "Argh!" The sudden burst of pain caused him to cry out in pain, and he grit his teeth and forced himself over to his cot. He had to get ready for the fight with the Chief.

WhistfulSoul:
Tyrren @Floressa

As Floressa finished her on-the-spot explanation of the situation, Tyrren made sure to stand up straight again, just in case he had begun to slack. The guard seemed to think for a moment before he realized it appeared on his face. Ah, is that so? I had not realized that Sir Tyrren had any outside relations besides the Guard. He so suddenly appeared within the force, with no record of before. Tyrren raised his eyebrow and inclined his head in order to ask a question of the man. When the guard realized he was under a certain amount of pressure, he too straightened his back. But enough of that. I'm sorry to question you, sir, and to have stopped you for as long as I have, sir. I'll go inside and tell the gatesman to let you in.

As the guard jogged off, Tyrren turned to Floressa. Quite the story you've got there. Who's your cousin? He smirked, then continued before she could reply with a flabbergasted remark. I jest. Just be sure not to state any names, not that you have any to give. These are the kinds of things that can get us caught.

Inside the gate tower, the guard approached the man responsible for keeping the gate closed or for opening it, if needed. At the same time, a young boy seemed to be leaving. Apt, hold it there lad. I need you to bring a message for me, just wait there a moment. He turned back to the gatesman. Let these two through. But have someone watch them. The man there's wearing a tunic for the Elite Guard, and the rest of the uniform to match. The gatesman didn't look up from his scroll he was reading. What's your point? Just a Guard. The Guard half threw his hands in the air and almost shouted, but looked at the doorway before continuing in a slightly more hushed voice. The King doesn't let any of his Elite's leave the castle, especially not the Captain, which is what this guy appears to be if his patches are correct. This time the gatesman looked up, with an are-you-stupid look on his face. Maybe he's just that good? I'm letting him through. The Guard sighed in response. Alright, well, you boy. You heard me, right? You follow him. Just don't get hurt. The kid scampered off out the other side of the wall.

The gate began to raise with magnificent glory, no screeching or groaning, until only the bottom that would set into the ground upon closing could be seen. The Guard re-emerged and waved his hand for the two to go through. As they began to walk through the outskirts of the city, Tyrren turned to Floressa. So, any idea what you have to do next? I assume that I just have to head to the castle.

@Duriel

Colfer nodded in respect. S'okay. I get cranky sometimes. Once Duriel finished, Torig smiled. So you'll come with us then? He began to rush about, loading the remaining things into the wagon, which wasn't much. Soon everything was ready, and the four dwarves loaded up and set off. The Stoneborn weren't naturally fast, but the ones that pulled the wagon seemed to be used to it and set off at a brisk pace. Within the hour, the capital began to appear. It was a place of bland colors, grays and whites and reds mainly, but the way that everything was build made it so beautiful that it could only be the dwarves handiwork. The wagon began to tour through the city on the main road only another half hour later, and soon the King's residence could be seen. Herrish spoke up this time, for once not giggling. We'll be 'eading there firs'. Once you're all settled in and dealt with, we can 'ead to the tavern and you can help however you can, righ'?

@Neicha

Taurus nodded his head, careful to keep his antlers from hitting Neicha. Of course. Whatever materials you may need are at your disposal, so long as we can get it to you in time. Rockjaw, Fleetfoot and myself will be your assistants at all times, and if it is alright with you, I wish to be at your side while your work. He began to blush, (as much as a deer can), then quickly continued, So that I may observe your work, of course. I wish to know what plagues my land and my people.

@Daylin

An orc with a staff covered in what could only be assumed as tribal markings and bones walked into the tent. He tossed a large and heavy sack into Daylin's lap. Medicine. I watch. Don't use too much. He walked over quickly, shoved the thinner end of his staff in Daylin's mouth, and yanked the axe from his thigh. The staff barely stifled the roar that followed. The orc reached into the medicine and quickly slathered a yellow paste on the wound. Luckily, it kept Daylin from passing out. The orc stepped back, apparently pleased with the new set of bite marks in his staff.

Jacob

His shoulders slacked. Alright, look. I'm not with the Order. I'm not even... Mayla looked stunned, her jaw slightly open. He looked around, and realized that he wasn't sure the two guards should hear what he had to say. Ah, may I have a private word with you? One of the guards stepped forward, but Jacob immediately dropped his weapons. Don't worry, I'm not here to hurt anyone. Mayla nodded, then turned and motioned for him to follow. Once they were in a seperate room of the library, Mayla nodded again for Jacob to continue. I'm not from this world. I'm from a world where magic doesn't exist, and in my first minutes here I saw a boy that could run like a lady Hauss. But I am here to help. Apparently I was brought by a goddess in order to stop events that are set in place but shouldn't happen. She sent me here, but this certainly wasn't the reception I was expecting. Mayla thought for a moment, looking around the room at the books around her. Once she spoke, she did so carefully and calculated. I have met this goddess you speak of. When my father had died, before I had even learned of it even, she appeared to me. I knew not what she meant, but she said, "I will right the wrong that has been forced upon you." Now I know how she intends to do it. She looked directly at Jacob. You're going to help take down the new king, aren't you? I realize that was not your intentions for being here, at my palace, but that is the grand scheme of your reason for being here, is it not?

Yume Tsuki:
Neicha hadn't noticed the blush as she wasn't taking her eyes off the book. She thought about the offer for a while. She almost instantly said 'no' as she preferred not to be bothered while working. However, this place was not like her own homeland. She knew the risks at home weren't that high. And mostly she would bore her escorts anyway and they would just wander off to hunt for some meat. She wasn't familiar with this forest yet so she could use an extra pair of eyes to watch for any threats.
"Very well."
She stopped skimming through the book. Carefully examining the image that was drawn on the page. She read through the text that was written along with it. The description definitely fit the plant. She bookmarked the page.

The-Blades-slave:
Daylin balled his hands into fists, panting, attempting to recollect his jumbled thoughts. The witch doctor was still standing in front of him, an orange tint cast upon his tattoos by the dying embers from the fire, a satisfied smile plastered on his face. He motioned toward the sack of medicine in the giant's lap. "Use."

"Y-yeah," Daylin nodded and pressed opened it nervously. Inside was more of the yellow paste and a roll of cloth. He crudely wrapped up the rest of his wounds, smearing the paste onto them and then wrapping them up. "Thank you." His voice was earnest; the Doctor had done nothing but help him. The medicine had taken away the the worst of the pain, leaving him sore, yet standing.

The orc grunted in assent, took the medicine, and hunkered out of the tent. Daylin stared at his retreating form for a moment, thinking of how he had sustained the injuries; that just brought Star, beaten and crying, to the forefront of his mind. His blood felt like fire boiling in his veins, boiling and crackling as it raged through him, fueling his rage. 'Don't worry, I'll make the bastard pay and get you out of there.'

With a new determination, Daylin prepared for battle. He adjusted his crooked pauldrons and smoothed out the mail beneath his breastplate, shouldered his axe, and put his dark-red hair back up. Finally, he cinched his royal blue cloak back up around his neck and pulled his helm down over his head. 'I'm coming for you, Zang.'

He stepped out of his tent, head held high, storming directly toward the chieftain's abode.

Humen:
Jacob face look dumbfounded, to think she actually believe a story like that, he'd probably call her a gullible and naive if it weren’t for the fact it was true, but then again she did assume he was a herbalist. He was taken aback by her sudden proposal to take done the king that was his queue to walk away, or at least he would have if not for the guards.

"Ok, listen." He gave a gesture with his hands for her to slow down as he caught his train of thought. "Now the only reason I'm here is because I’m supposed to investigate who killed the old king. If you've already confirmed it was the new one then by all means capture and imprison or hell execute him. But my job's done so if you’ll be so kind as to inform your guards so that i may be merrily on my way."

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