Ashes to Ashes - A Mount&Blade: Warband RP

[FreemasonGamer]

A handful of coin meant little to Komolov, but he nodded in thanks when Cameron paid him back for what he had spent compensating the innkeeper for the chair Bjorn had destroyed. Afterward, listening to Bellatrix and Cameron plot against the volatile Nord of the group and whatever plans of backstabbing them he might have brought a satisfied smirk to Komolov's features; whatever Bjorn's fate might be, surely his own actions brought it upon himself. Bellatrix's reassurance of the time they had until the Nords would begin to move towards Dhirim also eased some of the Vaegir's concerns as he continued to drink from his bottle of ale. The taste of the brew was well enough with a bland sweetness accenting the usual intensity that was typical of pale ale. However, his brief relaxation and peace came to a quick end as Bellatrix responded to a voice they had only recently met. It took a moment for the Vaegir to realize it before he cast his gaze across the inn, soon spotting Cair and what companions had accompanied him to Dhirim.

 

Groaning, Komolov looked to Bellatrix and took a confident drink from his bottle before sneering to Cair, "Hopefully we killed enough of your men that folks can rest a little easier again."

[josh900]

"Iii'm sensing a bit of hostility aimed my way." Cair said with a smirk. "Might be that my memory isn't all that good, But I seem to recall sitten patiently afore you lot started the fight." He said before taking a swig from his drink. "So if ya wanna call the guards then go right ahead, I'm not the one who entered the city with an angry Nord and stolen goods." He said with an innocent look on his face. "Speaking of which," He was reminded as he dragged his chair over to the group and sat astride the backrest with his arms crossed on the headrest. "You wouldn't happen to still be in possession of em would ya? Or if ya already pawned em off, I'd like the name of the merchant you sold it all to. Grabbed enough of what you left behind but, still missing some things from the list." He said as he pulled a piece of parchment out from his pocket and placed it onto the table.

 

The parchment listed off as small assortment of modest goods, tools and fabrics mostly. Several items on the list had been marked off yet a few of the more expensive ones still remained.

"That is unless of course," Cair continued "you're the heartless types that's not about to inconvenience yerselves for a bunch of recently raided villagers with nothing but the clothes left on their backs, and more than a few with less." He said, hoping that this request would go a bit better than the last one he made to this group.

[Macman253]

Bjorn growled as he paced the hall and thought about what was to happen. He knew his companions did not care for him. He did not care for them. They were as murderous as he was, it was in that companionship that made them useful. Bjorn thought of the war with the Nords as he stood in the hallway. He had been away from his homeland longer then he had lived in it. He had no family and any honor he once had died with the Jarl he once served as Huscarl. He cared not where the coin came from now. Truth be told he did not care about the Swadians insults... he cared for drink and battle. Nothing more. He returned down stairs to the main room and glanced at the terrified innkeeper. He looked down in shame at his disgracing outburst and fumbled out a few denars for the chair, plus something extra. He said nothing but he knew he had to make amends.

 

When the bandit from earlier entered and began demanding the goods they looted Bjorn looked to Bellatrix.

 

"Kill him... no guards will complain about 'te loss of 'is 'ead." Spoke the Nord as he set his axes pommel on the floor, hand resting on the head.

Edited July 2, 2015 by Macman253

[AurianaValoria1]

Bellatrix was not about to be outwitted by the common bandit, and she sneered as she replied, "Funny...I seem to recall that you were the one who first provoked us by threatening us with arrow fire if we didn't get away from your 'owed money'." She pushed the parchment away, "And now you've chased us all the way to Dhirim and expect me to believe that you want what we took from the camp in order to give it back to innocent villagers?" The sword sister shook her head, "Nice try, outlaw. What other lies have you practiced for recital?"

 

Glancing to Bjorn, who had decided to make a reappearance, she added, "No thanks...I don't feel like wasting my energy."

[josh900]

"Think they'd be more happy to killing you afore me there big guy." Cair chuckled at the Nord before returning his attention to the woman.

 

"Aye I did say that, but I did then say you could get on with your business so long as you left the goods to me and me boys. And to be fair, we didn't chase ya, just happen to have ended up in the same place is all." He said as he took the parchment back. He stuck his tongue in his cheek when she called him an outlaw.

"Well... How's about that I'm a special assignment as a sort of privateer? Privateer being a sort of thief of thieves, so's my job to take what they took and take it back to those it was originally taken from, if ya get my meaning. I'd wave the officials in yer face but umm... well of course I wouldn't have em on me when I need em." He added out of the corner of his mouth.

"Look, I'm behind as is so how's about I level with ya? I wouldn't trust me either, some funny sounden fella comes outta the woods demanding your gain, I'd trust em as far as I could throw em, but the town of Amere needs these pretty badly alright? They're a right bloody mess right now and they're gonna be hurtin for a long while without em. It ain't far off so you send someone over there to talk to the chief and ask about me, and he'll confirm my story, and then we can move forward from there, eh?" He asked with a cautious smile, hoping that this wasn't about to get any uglier than what most of the nearby company was.

[FreemasonGamer]

Komolov side-glanced at Bjorn cautiously when the Nord soon returned from his stupor spent upstairs, remaining silent as he drank from his bottle of red ale. As he listened to the exchange between Bellatrix and Cair, the Vaegir wisely kept any further thoughts of his to himself; thankfully so, because those thoughts were steeping in the depths of alcohol-induced confusion. After consuming nearly two thirds of the bottle's contents while the others spoke, Komolov finally determined the red ale's taste to be reminiscent of a subtly sweet caramel flavor.

 

"Mhm." The archer murmured quietly to himself as Cair spun his tall tale and portrayed himself as a 'thief of thieves.' In his state of hindered perception, Komolov even considered if the bandit-turned privateer was telling the truth.

 

Suddenly, a dull sadness overtook Komolov when he tilted his head back and drained his bottle of ale dry. Sighing, the Vaegir stood up from his seat with a slight swaying motion before grabbing the edge of the oaken table for support; the pleasant buzz of addled intoxication gripped his mind and helped ease the recent physical and mental stress Komolov had recently endured. Glancing to the others at the table with a slightly blurred gaze, Komolov then mumbled, "One moment..."

 

It took several more moments than Komolov had originally anticipated to reach the bar to order himself another bottle of ale that was of the same brew. Once the second bottle was in his hands, however, the Vaegir ceased to worry about a single notion as he tore away the fresh cork. He took a satisfied sip of his ale before wandering back to their party's table with a leisurely—albeit slightly staggering—gait. The Vaegir then took his seat upon his arrival and glanced around at his fellows before pondering out aloud with his glassy emerald gaze aimed at Cair, "If your... You're... You are..."

 

Komolov seemed to fixate on his worsening speech for a moment before continuing, "Gathering these things to take back to Amere... Think we'd be there and back again before Klargus needs Cameron for...?"

 

Then turning his focus to Bellatrix, the archer's drunken gaze seemed to exhibit at least a hint of thoughtful consideration, although whatever he had in mind surely wasn't orthodox considering his state of intoxication. Finally, Komolov spared a modest grin and chuckled quietly before leaning back to enjoy a considerable dose of delicious red ale.

[Flipout6]

"My plan, simply put, is that we fight in this upcoming conflict, however petty the original reasoning for it." Cameron proposed, leaning forward. "We're hardly affluent- well, you're hardly affluent - and this war isn't likely to change that in and of itself, but it's a better opportunity than you'd stumble upon otherwise. We're noteworthy if only for our...diversity, but conducting yourselves properly during battle would show us- you, I've proven myself already - to be individuals of worth in addition to your willingness to risk our lives for Swadia. That means an alliance."

 

Cameron leaned back in his chair. "For you lot there will be opportunities abound to make some coin on the side without resorting to unsavory means. But the key component to this "plan" of mine, if it could truly be called that -" He didn't look particularly impressed with his own idea, but he shrugged it off. "Is that you excel. You prove yourselves three times over, and then you do it again. And again. And again. You prove that you're truly better than a common Swadian soldier and you'll have the attention of the nobility."

 

He inspected the back of his gauntlet. "For me it is simply my duty to fight, but for you, it's an opportunity worth taking. But remember: conduct yourselves in the highest of manners the battlefield will allow. Honor, chivalry, even down to proper mannerisms and organized equipment and coordinated formations. This is what will be required."

[AurianaValoria1]

Bellatrix glanced at Komolov, and sighed, "Well, we're not going anywhere or doing anything right now. I suggest we all sleep on it and figure out what to do tomorrow. If we do decide to go to Amere first," she gave the "privateer" a pointed look, "It better not lead to a trap; because I promise you...you'll be the first to die."

 

Looking back at Cameron, she replied, "Klargus won't be ready to march for a few days, yet. In the meantime, I will be giving your idea consideration. It'd be a damn sight better than the work I've had so far, I'll give you that," she knocked back the rest of her ale in one gulp and slammed the empty tankard on the table, "but it could also mean all our deaths. Choose your battles wisely, eh? Hope fighting against the Nords is wise."

 

===========================

 

The following morning, Bellatrix purchased a better mount from the trader - a fleabitten grey steppe horse - and tethered it outside the tavern while the others were eating breakfast. When she came back inside, she spotted the so-called "privateer" and gestured to get his attention, "You...mind telling me your name so I can stop calling you things along the lines of 'hey you,' 'bandit,' and 'you damned outlaw'?"

[FreemasonGamer]

As the peaceful night gradually wore on within the tavern of Dhirim, Komolov steadily drained his second bottle of faintly caramel-tasting ale while his companions continued their talk of intrigue and opportunity. Unfortunately, the Vaegir soon lost touch with their conversing as his comprehensive ability plummeted with every sip of alcohol. Not only had it been some time since Komolov had consumed as much drink as he was, but the intensity of the red ale he was so avidly drinking also coincided with his weak tolerance to result in a swift and powerful intoxication. Soon, the tavern swayed to and fro around the Vaegir like a ship tossed about in a storm, and his senses were all but nullified by his addled drunkenness. So, in a halfhearted attempt of caution or responsibility, Komolov staggered out of his chair with the intention of finding a room for the night.

 

What a humorous sight it was to see such a drunken Vaegir stagger about the tavern as if the very earth trembled with his every breath; by the time he had reached the staircase itself, Komolov was as disoriented as an oaf who had received more than a few blows to the head. However he managed to ascend the staircase without harming himself was a mystery, and the journey to the nearest vacant room was much less intensive. Finally, the Vaegir's intoxicated odyssey came to a sudden end when he fell face-first into a what he perceived as a welcoming cot, landing with a surprising thud before quickly drifting away from consciousness.

 

~

Pale, silvery sunlight lazily drifted through the window of Komolov's room and danced across his placid facial features, gently reminding him of a dull pain resonating within his head that seemed to travel throughout the rest of his body. Once he had finally shaken off the mystifying shroud of sleep, the Vaegir then groaned in response to the aching nature of a hangover before opening his eyes. Oddly—but honestly not surprisingly—Komolov found himself on the floor next to his cot instead of within it; in fact, his cot's bedding was all but untouched since he had missed it entirely before passing out the night before. Sighing weakly to himself, Komolov sat upright and examined himself, and his appearance was equally grim as his clothes clung to him with dried sweat and muck.

 

To hopefully amend a good number of his ailments, Komolov squinted at the hazy sunrise before preparing a quick bath, which dramatically improved his outward appearance while slightly easing his aching pain. Quickly and clumsily changing into his spare set of clothes, Komolov then changed the bandages wrapped around his wounded arms; the process was painful, especially when he cleaned his cut left forearm and right bicep with the small bottle of vodka he kept in his satchel for such medicinal purposes. Finally, the Vaegir ran a stiff hand over the scruffy black fuzz shading his jaw before deciding against shaving. Heaving one last sigh, Komolov gathered his things and gradually made his way downstairs for a light breakfast, his stomach lurching with every footstep.

[josh900]

The next morning Cair was quickly eating his breakfast when Bellatrix approached him and asked for his name. "Well I'd imagine that you'll be calling me less pleasant things under your breath until your convinced that you're in the wrong and will then stop calling me bandit in the middle of a crowded pub." He said, motioning to the other people sitting around.

"But since you asked so nicely," He started with a wide and forced smile, "it's Cair, Cair Mac Naidh of an isle a fair bit 'o distance to 'tha west that likes to keep to it'self and out of Calradia's business." He answered her.

"So now it's your turn 'afore I come up with titles for you as well." He said before resuming his meal.