Piercing sounds of the awaiting crowd drifted through the air of the office Headmaster Korlund sat in. With the guidance of the High Council, the new law on mandatory guild membership had been approved. With this, it was necessary to make the announcement among all those of Althalos. He slouched in his chair, re-reading the parchment that detailed what he planned on saying, aware of the many people who waited down there, some patiently, others not so.
The door to his office made a slight creaking sound, bringing Korlund's head up. He saw the man who had brought the law to him, his head peeking into the office, Strulcar. He stepped in and stayed silent, allowing Korlund to speak first.
"Yes? What is it? I'm still reading this."
"My apologies, headmaster. The people are getting restless, this must begin soon or trouble may occur. Who knows what'll happen if the Shimmerthorn and the Fallenwell sit among each other for too long, not to mention the acolytes."
Korlund groaned and slung his head back. "I'll be out there soon, tell them to calm down, I've just got to finish this off. Go and tell Braldeth to do something about it."
Strulcar sighed. "Sir, the watchmen are not the best peacekeepers. Braldeth is more than capable of keeping riots under control, but that's when a fight is present. He's more of a fighter, not a diplomat-"
"Which is what you are, Strulcar." Korlund had cut into the High Council leader's words with his own. "I don't know. Handle it."
"Y-yes, sir." He shrinked back behind the door and silently closed it.
The headmaster proceeded with his recap on his speech, mumbling about laws and other nonsense.
The High Council stood among the balcony of the headmaster's office. below were the thousands of people presented in a huge foyer. Restless voices and shouts of ignorance resonated from the population of Althalos. Glotthor leaned over the balcony's fence and sighed. He looked over to Ayla.
"When will this be over? I'm already cooking in these robes." He emphasised his point by lifting his arm and shaking it slightly.
Strulcar fast-walked back to his position at the balcony and spoke before Ayla had a chance. "He's still reading that damn parchment. This is ridiculous."
"Well look, I'm going to go and get some shade. If I'm going to get cooked, I'd prefer to do so with some rabbit or something." Glotthor turned and headed for the entrance of the building. "Nevermind." He stopped as he saw the figure of Korlund approach him.
"Right, I'm here. Let's just get this over with," Korlund said with a sigh.
The headmaster approached the centre of the balcony stage, and raised his arms. Strulcar lifted his staff and focused on his alteration magic, creating a boom in Korlund's voice, so he could speak over the whole college. "People, people. Quiet. I have brought you all here for a reason, and I hope it will not take long." The large population looked up, voices being cut and silence growing among them. "You may have heard about a new law being introduced. This is true. We haven't created a new law in this college for, I believe, five centuries. Most of us know when those laws were introduced long ago, during the, uh... Fall, of Althalos, as we are all aware. Regardless, this is a simple law that was passed because the High Council and I believe it is a necessity. I will get right to the point.
"The College of Althalos has had over a thousand years of construction, and it continues to thrive, even better than our predecessors. Recently we have recaptured what is known as Malagdril's Forest, an achievement this college has not seen in generations. This was a huge victory to us as a large community. Regardless, it has come to me and the council that several of our citizens are unemployed and using our resources for wasted efforts. It is important that we do not befall to the time of The Old World, and to do this we need to work together. We have had many events related to this, but still this college has stragglers. Thus I have come to the decision to create this new law. From now, anyone aged fifteen or over is required by law to join a guild. For those turning fifteen, you have a month to decide. And for those who currently do not have a guild as of now, you also have a full month before legal action takes place. This new law will bring about a hopeful change among this college, and I expect all of you to trust the High Council and the laws, and how this benefits us as a whole."
Murmurs spiked up among the crowd, and a couple shouts were heard. Watchmen situated around the plaza grabbed the hilt's of their weapons, keeping them sheathed but ready. This action seemed to calm the population. Korlund continued.
"Now, this is all I wished to speak about. I believe many of you will abide by the law, and I hope no one causes any trouble. You are all dismissed."
Korlund turned from the balcony's fence and walked away from view from the population. Glatthor spoke up. "Glad that's over." Strulcar lowered his staff and followed Korlund into the building, to which Ayla, Bralik, Glotthor and Bughkil followed.
-----
A day passed, and already the college is under a suppressed state from the new law. Guild leaders are being covered in paperwork.
Alone in his office, a mysterious man hunched over a desk, his eyes closed and in deep thought. The door slowly opened, and a hooded man walked in, placing several papers onto the desk. "A collected list of possible members, sir." The man walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.
The mysterious hooded figure eyed down the papers, looking through a list of names and information, several caught his eye, and he sorted them into different piles. Though each candidate had different skills, they each had one thing in common; An affinity with dark magic.
In another office on the other side of the college, another man sat in his chair, playing with a throwing knife before throwing it at a board. He repeated this action, ignoring the stacks of paperwork. There were several candidates for their guild, though Khahman didn't believe the candidates were worthy. He decided to stop and looked over them once again. Though none were particularly skilled as he had hoped, some maintained his eye, and for those he placed on the side of the desk. He would need to send out some scouts for further information on this hopefuls.
Zyn sat in a dark corner of a tavern, sipping his glass of water. It wasn't quite cold enough, but that was alright, as long as it wasn't poisoned. He didn't really know what the new law was about, nor did he particularly care. What he cared about was survival. You aren't in the afterlife yet, so you may as well be concerned with staying out as long as possible. The new law could, however, get him into a guild, which would be useful for survival. Maybe he should apply for the Soulsifters or Theives guild or something
His gaze flickered over the other patrons, but most of them were chatting amongst themselves, and the ones that weren't were like him, here to have a drink and be solitary
Tacitus was angry. More annoyed than angry, though. Being forced to join a guild seemed like a stupid law in his mind, but now he had no choice. Though he hadn't any money at the time, he made enough to get by through private tutoring with Artem, the Swordmaster. With a frown on his face, he recalled the guilds to the best of his knowledge.
The High Council would likely reject him immedietly, so Tacitus dismissed them. The Theives Guild got by through (go figure) stealing, which Tacitus didn't approve of. The Soulshifters were assassins, which Tacitus didn't have the stomach for. The Mercenaries Company was a collection of warriors for hire, which could work out. Nobody knew what the True Masons did- or at least, Tacitus didn't. Tacitus wasn't a religious man, so he crossed out the Order of Lord Phesephus and the Worshipers of Holy Vailcus. Tacitus did frequent the House of Sole Wizards to practice his magic and research new spells, so that was a possibility.
The Shimmerton Warriors were foolishly idealistic. Tacitus appreciated them, but their goal of no crime was simply not feasible. The Fallenwell also didn't suit him- even though crime wasn't going to go away, Tacitus didn't want it running rampant. The Watchmen of Althalos was another possibility- a simple guard position could work, and if he got far enough, he could possibly teach new recruits. The Alliance was the last one, and Tacitus crossed them out as well. He likely wouldn't qualify.
Tacitus had narrowed the field to the Mercenaries, the Wizards and the Watchmen. The lattest appealed to him the most. Tacitus filled out an application form for them over a meal and submitted it, just before four'o'clock. He then returned to the house he shared with Artem, and found him tutoring a new face. "Who's this one, old man?" Tacitus said.
"Old man?" Artem laughed. "I'm a man alright, but i'm not as old as you think. This one here's called Brom, he wants to become a Swordmage."
"Really?" Tacitus replied. "Then you'll be tutoring with me sometime, shorty."
"I'm not short!" He replied. "You're only an inch or two taller'n me!"
"And don't you forget it." Tacitus laughed and headed inside. He pulled out his tome and refreshed his memory of the more basic spells that he learned.
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March 17th, 1674E
4:34 pm
The sun sat high in the sky, refusing to lower beyond the spires of church halls or large guild buildings. With early spring in place, several birds chirped and many children ran through the streets, chasing or being chased by dogs. Every now and then beyond the walls of the college, the occasional roar of a beast echoed through the air, though the busy populous dismissed it as an ordinary event and continued with their day. However, it was slightly different, the tension in the air was a lot more evident. Many people were getting stressed with the new law being set, and a few thought the law as a waste of time.
Among those of the upset were mainly the leaders of the guilds. Being stacked with application forms was not something they enjoyed, and many, such as the Thieves Guild's leader Mesgar, were downright appalled with the decision of the High Council. Mesgar groaned in his chair and span in a circle, almost tipping off. "Well the stupid council doesn't have to worry about anything, no one gets accepted there. And this guild is the backbone of crime, c'mon. Look at all these papers." He turned to the stack of papers and lifted them up slightly, then dropped them back onto the desk, as if he was talking to someone in particular. "Ugh. And hardly anyone among these forms are actually good. And I've gotta go through every, single, one. I'm bored."
A looming shadow remained present on the off-side of the room, arms crossed. "You done moaning about this pathetic guild? Half the people here are crap anyway." Maglynn stood there, a scowl on her face. "There are some more forms coming in soon, I trust you'll be enjoying them."
"Ah, screw off, Mag." He leaned against the mossy stone wall and reached into his light armour, pulling out a cigar. With another reach in, he pulled out a lighter.
"Please, allow me." Maglynn lifted her hand and raised it towards Mesgar. With a slight focus, the tip of the cigar set ablaze, and was now lit.
"Why thank you, Maglynn. Now if you want to help some more, there are about one or two forms on the desk that need checking. As for me, I'm heading to the closest tavern for a drink." He put the cigar between his lips and smirked, and walked passed her through the doorway.
"I'm not doing this for you, lazy ass!" Maglynn shouted after Mesgar, who was well ahead through the corridor and already walking down the spiral stairs. A chuckle could be heard from him.
---
Within a large, gathering room, many voices could be heard, mixed with sounds of laughter. Several tables surrounded by stools lay present across the entire room, save one corner which presented a bar. Several gruff men and some women sat on these stools, either with a drink in their hand or just a weapon they were sharpening, or anything really. Each table seemed to be its own group, and it was clear what this place was. This room was the large gathering room of the Mercenaries Company, one of the largest guilds in the college, and possibly the largest with no specific guild leader. Among this gathering room was an in-built tavern to service both the residents of the guild and customers that venture through. Many folk are seen going through the room, some just for a drink or a time to think, others looking for bodyguard or work or some darker tasks.
There was a single office within the guild, occupied by whoever was sent there on that particular day. It was usually just a simple staff member of the Council, doing paperwork usually. Today, a small bearded man sat in the chair of the office, organising through paper work. It was the easiest job within the Mercenaries company, as almost anyone could be accepted, on the condition that they have no criminal background. Thus while there was a huge stack of papers from accepted applicants, there were only a few papers who were rejected, which were usually sent toe the Outlaws Association instead. Among these application papers was a simple application done by a man named Tacitus Bonosus. Without paying much attention to the application, the bearded man accepted him and placed him with the rest of the accepted applicants.
The one thing about the Mercenaries Company was that most accepted members didn't join anyway. Most people tended to fill in applications to several guilds, and joined the one that fit their liking the most from the accepted applications. Most people usually got accepted by the Mercenaries Company, thus only joined when not being accepted by any other guild. With the finishing of the current papers, the bearded man stood up and widened his arms vertically among the large stack, then compressed his arms in the air, which in turn seemed to cause the papers to collapse into a much smaller stack. He opened a suitcase and placed the papers in, then left the office to give them to the Delivery Guild, to be sent back to applicants.
---
Te House of Sole Wizards was perhaps one of the stranger guilds, although definitely the most sophisticated in knowledge. There it held the college's most famous library, and among the guild, practitioners of several magical arts paced among different rooms. Staff wondered through the halls, rushing to their lectures and some just heading for the staff room. With the new law in place, the guild was in much larger panic than normal, and at least 5 staff members were on paperwork duty.
Like that of the Mercenaries Company, the House of Sole Wizards was a guild that was much easier to get into than guilds such as the acolyte guilds, as the only requirement was a sound judgement of magic. With that, most applicants were accepted, as people who weren't attune to magic tended not to bother with this guild in general, some leaving it in their mind as a worthless guild. Among those applicants was one of Tacitus, whom the staff reading it was somewhat nodding his head at, approving the mix of both sword and magic. He approved the applicant and placed it in the pile, where once finished, he would send to the Delivery Guild with the rest.
---
Then there were the Watchmen of Althalos, one of the most known guilds of all. As Althalos protectors, several children wished to be among the ranks. It maintains its reputation of skilled fighters, though not as skilled as the Alliance, the Soulsifters, or the Shimmerthorn or Fallenwell. As the guild's general and trainer, Braldeth keeps the troops in line and keeps them fight and healthy. This has allowed for a somewhat peaceful college, and has kept it in great shape.
However, Braldeth despises of paperwork. And with no one else he trusts capable of doing so, he is forced to do it all himself. While handling a couple applications here and there normally is not a problem, the new law by the council got on his nerve, though it was not in his place to turn against the council. Without further argument he forced himself to sit in his office and handle the paperwork, receiving hundreds, if not thousands, or applications from all over the college.
One of the first of the papers was a sword-mage named Tacitus, who caught Braldeth's eye. He was somewhat confused as to why he would apply, though decided that the dual skilled capabilities would benefit the Watchmen. With no further judgement, he decided to approve of the application, and set it aside for later to deliver it to the Delivery Guild.
---
Glotthor sat on a red leather couch, his legs across the width of the couch. "Well, whaddya know, seems no one has attempted to join us. Though the thought is somewhat appreciated, I wouldn't stop laughing, so I suppose it's for the best."
"I dunno, I think a sixth member of the council could be interesting." This was Bralik, who sat on a marble bench, inspecting his warhammer.
"Or a seventh." Bughkil walked in, a grin on his face. He wore almost nothing, though this was of no surprise to the other members.
Glotthor grunted. "What do you think those two are doing in there anyway? They've been in there for an hour for Valicus's sake, I mean at this point you'd think that-" Glotthor stopped and widened his eyes. "Oh man, I hope not. Nooo, buddy. Get out of my head, imagination. Gross."
Bralik laughed. "Well, you have a point, they could be doing anything in there. You know how Ayla is. Can't stand not being near 'im. I say leave 'em alone and let's have a friendly game of Old Maid, hmm? I've got the cards already." He lifted a packet of old, bent cards from his armour's pocket.
Glotthor looked over to the cards and smiled. "You're on, old man."
Garuda sat in the shade of a tree in one of the College's large parks, keeping a watchful eye on the throngs of children playing around her. A small bird perched on her shoulder, which she absentmindedly stroked between its wings as she pondered. Like everyone else, she had heard the new city-wide decree. All guildless members must now join one of the city's multitude of guilds. While some guildless members of the College were scrambling around like trapped animals, Garuda felt a sense of peace. If anything, the city's new law made it so that her guild of choice would HAVE to accept her. Or so she hoped.
If my piousness, my dedication to doing good, if none of that can get me in, shouldn't the Worshippers of Holy Valicus be required to let me in? Garuda shook her head, standing upright. The bird on her shoulder flitted away, and she gave it a small wave as it left. Briskly, she began to make her way to the Worshippers' home base. With this new decree, she would be accepted into the Worshippers of Holy Valicus. Her plan was to be so kind and gentle, such a pious and inspiring role model, that it would be a mark of shame for the Worshippers to not accept her into their ranks.
Zyn finishes his drink, and leaves the money for it by his empty glass, and silently slides his chair back. He stands up and leaves the tavern, avoiding people, and decides to take advantage of the new law. He goes to a quiet location and pulls out several pieces of paper and a quill.
He starts copying down the necessary information for his applications and copies it down onto every piece of paper, filling up front and back, ending up with about 5 copies of what's essentially a resume. He walks down to the place that you turn them into, sending one to the Soulsifters guild, another one to the Thieves, and on a whim, one to the Mercenary's guild, keeping 2 copies for himself.
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4:46 pm
Among the halls of Valicus, many acolytes sat in pews, watching their leader Presfiel demonstrate restoration magic on her current assistant. She had known plenty of applications had gone through, and with the new law she wasn't sure if plenty of people were attempting to join criminal guilds, especially the Order. She had already gotten tired over a number of applicants, and wanted to practice some magic.
During the interval of a speech and demonstration, one of her acolytes walked up with a few more papers on her hand. "More applicants, miss."
She took them and looked through the batch, pausing on Garuda's application. "This is the one who's been trying to join for a while, now, right?"
"That is correct."
She scratched behind her ear and then put the papers down on a desk. "Well I suppose with the new law, if she doesn't join she may go to the Order..." She sighs and nods to the acolyte, before continuing her demonstrations.
---
Khahman sighed as he looked over the potential candidates. He wasn't surprised to see so many, but his guild was limited for a reason. He had been impressed with one candidate, who seemed to excel in stealth and had no hesitation executing targets. Another had caught his eye when he saw a drow with somewhat decent capabilities with several knives and enchanted weapons, and the last that caught his eye was a man who murdered for fun, though Khahman had decided against it.
His best choice would be the stealthy one, but he decided to keep an eye on the drow for now.
---
Mesgar walked into the tavern, ignoring the random threats from the drunk. As he walked in, he passed a drow who caught his interest. Without another thought, he turned back to the bar and sat on the stool. "Give me a shot of anything."
---
The bearded man continued to accept most applicants in the Mercenaries Company, including a drow who he had paid absolutely no attention to. These papers went back to the Deliver Guild, where the applicants could expect an acceptance from the guild when opening the letter.
((You mean a quill, Zyngard? Also for things like gold, you should drop your inventory with your post to keep track of the gold. Assume a beer costs 8 gold, while a rabbit leg might cost 5 gold, a whole chicken might cost 20 gold, etc etc. Whatever seems reasonable.))
((Now I can imagine the Mercenary leader just going "Check. Next. Check. Next. Check. Next..."))((And I edited my post))
Zyn walked around the college for a while, making sure his coin purse was in it's usual location without drawing too much attention to where it was, because you could never know who a thief was. It could be that homeless man, that... guild leader? Yeah, the guild leader was definitely a thief. Especially since that was the leader of the guild OF thieves.
He eventually went to the Deliver Guild to see if he had been accepted by anything yet. He checked his mail/whatever and wasn't surprised to see that the Mercenary Guild had accepted him. Nothing else had come in yet, but he decided to stick around just in case. It hadn't been that long after all, just a couple of hours since he sent his application in.
Inventory:
Same stuff as last time
Item Got! Guild Application: Accepted for the mercenary guild. No surprise
“Another round!” Wyth’ram drawled, his tongue laced with acid and sleep. He collapsed back onto the counter, letting his head rest for a moment as the bartender, a human scumbag, refilled his glass. It was not yet five in the afternoon, and the reptilian was as drunk as could be.
Adjusting his shoulder, Wyth’ram realized how tired he was. “Another round and I’ll be out,” he murmured into the wood of the table. His inebriation blocked him from thinking without words.
The bar was old, and it smelled as bad as the tavern itself. There was a plethora of finer establishments in the college, some no less than a couple of blocks away, but the nicer ones didn’t like drunken Lizardfolk. They probably didn’t like Lizardfolk at all, but it was only the drunken ones whom they could kick out with good reason. “Why’s e’eryone always out to get me,” Wyth’ram lamented, still breathing into the wood. The clink of glass against a metal ring told Wyth’ram that his drink was being readied. “Thank the living god.”
Each part of the long bar had indentations and scratches. Some had once been words or symbols, but now they all formed one huge, unplanned pattern. It was art, in some ways. Wyth’ram took his claw, and absently he added a few of his own marks into this grandiose masterpiece. “Yes, that’s good. So good,” he decided. He had marked a cross. “Cross for salvation, cross for death,” Wyth’ram intoned, making some random rhyme just as a burly warrior plunked himself onto a stool three distant from Wyth’ram’s own. “Cross for the elf with the very bad breath.”
The warrior turned and looked to the reptilian. Eyes met, each full of their own dulled cunning. Most elves were lithe and noble, but this was a monster of an elf. He was muscular like a dwarf, and ugly like a man. He was an outsider, clearly, and so he was in this bar. “All alone,” Wyth’ram mocked. His head still rested, exhausted, on the bar.
The elf laughed, and stood up. He may have been muscular, more dwarf and man like than most of his kind, but he was still tall - easily equal to Wyth’ram when the reptilian stood to his full stature. Wyth’ram wondered why the elf laughed, though, and decided to flit his eyes around him.
The elf was not alone.
A human and a dwarf, both nearly mirror images of the elf, were standing only just out of Wyth’ram’s peripheral vision. If Wyth’ram were one to curse, now would have been a time in which he might have done just that. He loved a good fight, but never were his fights good - not when he was so drunk he could nearly cry.
The barkeep had returned with Wyth’ram’s goblet refilled, but seeing that Wyth’ram would not be capable of drinking in a very short while, he left and gave the cup to another patron. The thuggish elf, the tall dwarf, and the noble-rugged human knew well enough that they would be dealing with this reptilian in the alley-way.
“Man, I was so set not to punch anyone today!” the human said, punching his own hand with a dramatic fist. He was too dramatic to have been severely drunk. The dwarf chuckled and the elf smiled. Wyth’ram stood up and led the way out of the bar.
***
One. Two. Three. Four. Three. Five. Six. He lost count. The punches and the kicks did not stop. Wyth’ram stopped counting.
He tried to fight back, at first. They preferred it when you did that; he had learned this back in the magician’s guild through experience. Beating a submissive target seemed to trigger some repulsion within a man or a dwarf, and it did not fit with the noble standing of an elf. An orc, however, would usually be fine with the action. Wyth’ram thought, those creatures are so dumb-witted. Orcs were not the usual suspects, though. It was the humans for whom Wyth’ram held the most suppressed disdain. It was they who deserved the most ill-karma.
After a while, however, Wyth’ram would stop fighting back. He would stop swinging his claws, cease to deal cuts and bruises. It used to be that he would run, run and hide, but he found that it was actually easier, especially when drunk, to simply succumb to the superiority of the group which attacked him. So, there would come a point when Wyth’ram, though still minutely capable of retaliation, would stop exerting any effort into defending himself. He would stop hating, and he would cease to think. He would sit and he would find the most enjoyable part of the pain. Still, he did not know which part that was, but he was sure that it existed, if he could only find it. Why else would pain exist?
Alothus couldn't be happier with his current situation. Now sitting at home after listening to Korlund speak, he was finally ready to submit an application. Even though he was above the average mage that you would come across in the streets, he still feared that The Sole Wizards would have some reason to deny him. Now that he was forced to join a guild, he had no choice but to submit an application that he had been working on for weeks. After rewriting it at least twenty times, he was finally ready to have it delivered.
---
With that out of the way, Alothus set out for one of The College's nicer taverns. For the next few years he would be training and studying as much as he could to become the best mage he could. For now, however, he would treat himself. Taking a seat a the bar, he slams ten gold on the counter. The bartender, who is one of his close friends, puts it on the house. Downing his drink, he stands and joins in on a nearby discussion about the new law. "It's ridiculous," a dwarf says, slamming his fist on the table, "my smithing business is finally starting to get me some decent gold and now I have to take time out of my day to deal with this guild nonsense. The whole thing's a waste of time. Sure, it helps those worthless Council people out, but what does it do for the rest of us? Nothing changes for them. Y'know, I've heard whispers of a rebellion and I have half a mind to join it." Shushing him angrily, the female elf to his right looked concerned. "Stop talking like that Horakal," she said, "you know that even speaking of treason can get you killed. In the middle of a bar, too."
Seeing that the two of them weren't in the mood to chat, Alothus looked at the only other person in the tavern, a shady figure in the corner by himself. The way he looked at the elf was... concerning. Probing around in the man's mind a little, he found nothing. It was strange. Almost like there weren't any tho- GET OUT OF MY HEAD. The words bounced around in Alothus's brain and caused him to stumble backwards. The man obviously knew a thing or two about telepathy. Sliding a dagger out of his pocket, he lunged. It was obvious from the look in his eyes that he planned on killing at least one person before leaving the tavern. Throwing his hand up, Alothus pinned the man against the wall and rendered him unconscious by sending a chair flying into his head. "Well..." Alothus said, "at least he didn't accomplish whatever he was trying to do here." Tidying up the place, he left and was careful to avoid eye contact with anybody outside. All he wanted to do now is go home. His life had never truly been threatened until today. He wanted to get as far away from the tavern as possible, but running would draw attention to him.
---
As he made his way through some of the poorer parts of The College, he heard some noises coming from near one of the run-down taverns. It was in his best interests to leave it alone, but he at least wanted to know what was happening. He could sense four people, but only three were moving. The same three were hostile, the fourth were not. As he was unable to get anything more without being able to see it for himself, Alothus peeked around the corner and saw that three people were standing over another. He couldn't quite make out the fourth from where he was standing but he could tell that the three had nearly identical builds and were all significantly stronger than him. They seemed to be attacking the fourth person, who was not any sort of threat to him and was likely the victim of a few drunk thugs looking for a right. He had absolutely no reason to help the stranger, as things like this happened every day and they were probably used to it. But after what had happened earlier, he felt stronger. Confident in his abilities. After making himself more intimidating by changing how others would see him, Alothus stepped into the alley and sent a telepathic message in their direction. I suggest you leave whoever that is alone.
It was later in the afternoon, and the sun was starting to drop off of the horizon, but it wasn't sunset just yet. Tacitus left the house after Brom had left from his first session with Artem, and they had already decided that Brom would take his next session with Tacitus. He decided to check the Delivery Guild for news of the applications he sent, though he didn't expect them back so quickly.
On his way, Tacitus heard sounds of a fight near a tavern. He knew his applications would take awhile, so a detour wouldn't hurt. He wandered the back alleys a short while before stumbling upon five people- one was standing, gazing at the other four. The four seemed to be in some sort of fight, with it being three-to-one. The one was laying on the ground, beaten senseless by the others.
"What, you just gonna stand there and enjoy the show?" Tacitus said to the man watching. He shook his head in disapproval before drawing his sword and moving forward. "You three should step away now. I think he's had enough." All four of them were obviously drunk out of their minds, so Tacitus knew a fight was going to happen. He decided that he should be able to take on three drunken brutes alone, but that he'd probably take a few hits. But still, nobody deserved to be treated like that.
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5:12 pm
A knock on the old, torn door startled Khahman from his sleep. A member of the Soulsifter's opened the door and apologised, before handing an envelope to Khahman. "This was given to us by an anonymous source. A note came with it saying only you could see it, sir."
"Hmm? Okay, give it here." He grabbed the envelope and inspected it, turning it over and checking it out. He looked over to the man who remained at the door. "Well?"
"Sorry." The man immediately scurried out of the room and closed the door behind him.
Khahman leaned back on his chair and put his feet up. He carefully opened the letter and pulled out a small document, with an overly obvious symbol:
Khahman groaned and scratched his temple. He slung his head back and looked up at the ceiling for a couple seconds, before looking back down at the paper.
Khahman,
I trust this letter has arrived you well. It has been a while since we have asked for a favour in return of your debt, but we ask for your help at this time. With the recent news of the new law that has been introduced, my guild has begun to struggle under the weight of the stirring troubles of the college. I request that I may use your services in exchange for the past agreements we have dealt with.
You will find attached a parchment with several people whom I am interested in. I require your scouts to investigate these people and bring back as much information as they possibly can. You have done these types of missions beforehand, and I trust you know what to do. I know you will not fail me.
The Eye.
Khahman turned over the page and found the attached parchment, listing at least thirty people. Khahman sighed and rubbed his face. "Do I even run this guild anymore?" He got up abruptly and left the room, stuffing the papers into his chest pocket.
The morning sun shined brightly as Jaune raised his hand in an attempt to block the offending light from his eyes. The decrepit shack that he called home was little more than some hay and a worn blanket with a broken table propped up in the corner so he could eat whatever he was lucky enough to get his hands on. Life has never been easy living like he did, but it wasn't like he had any other skills to fall back upon. Stealing wasn't exactly a honest profession and he had to be careful not to steal too much or else he would attract the attention of the guards.
"Looks like it's time to make another food run." He sighed to himself as he grabbed his cudgel, lovingly named blackjack, and headed into town. The walk was peaceful and short as Jaune entered the town, his eyes scanning his surroundings as he slowly walked the streets. Something was wrong, there weren't as many people as there should have been, almost as if they all went somewhere without telling him. "Oh well, hopefully that just means I won't have to worry about the guards." He said to himself as he broke into a light jog towards the center of the town.
He had just about reached the center of the town when he encountered the mass crowd which seemed to be dispersing. Walking up alongside one of the citizens who were walking Jaune asks "Excuse me, but where did everyone just come from? I seemed to have missed the message?" The woman paused for a second before answering "We just attended an announcement by headmaster Korlund. Every citizen must now join a guild if not already in one." Huh, joining a guild? Sure the thought of joining a guild had crossed Jaunes mind more than a few times, but he always decided against it since he liked to be free. "But now it's mandatory to join a guild I'll have to act fast. maybe I can get into a guild and just sit around all day and do nothing" He thought as he smiled and thanked the woman. As she left he took a moment to open the leather pouch that he had swiped off the woman while she was talking. "6 gold pieces, nice." Deciding to get something to eat and find a place to fill out his application he heads towards the nearest tavern.
Hearing a commotion from around the tavern Jaune walked towards a nearby ally and watched what appeared to be a drunken brawl take place. 3 drunken men were facing off against a possibly slightly less drunken man. Another man was just watching while yet another was beaten and on the floor. Now Jaune was no saint, but even he couldn't just stand there and watch while the men fought. Bringing forth blackjack he twirled it to loosen his wrist as he stepped up besides the man who drew his blade. "Hey there, name's Jaune, and I'll be the one kicking your ass today." He cheered towards the 3 drunken men.
1 Year ago the military was on the losing side of the war. All seemed bleak until one soldier brought a penguin in to training. They had trained that penguin in the use of explosives and sent him out into the field. They had thought that they had won but the agent went rouge. Now he only lives on as a legend, the legend of ShotgunPenguin.
As two other men charged into the alleyway, Alothus sighed. Nobody understood the type of magic that he practiced. In the eyes of many, you weren't a mage unless you were slinging fire at your foes. Focusing, he found the energy of the two self-proclaimed heroes and boosted their adrenaline. Tweaking their brains, both would immediately feel a change in their bodies. The human body was not made to perform as well as it could, but it was easy to fix that issue for a short period of time. Their muscles would work at least twice as well as they normally would. Plugging into the minds of the drunken thugs, he made the alley significantly darker for them, making it nearly impossible to fight. As he charged into the alley, he said "Three against two? Now how is that fair?" He used telekinesis to make one of them trip over nothing and fall to the ground, then sent a chunk of stone at the thug's head.
He quickly moved on to the victim of the trio, and the first thing he noticed was that it was one of those strange lizard people that the public rarely saw. They often kept to themselves, and for good reason. He'd seen what people had done to guys like these. It was horrible. Like most, he had grown up being taught to despise them, that they were monsters who existed only to do terrible things to innocent people. But unlike his parents, he had the ability to see into their minds. They weren't dangerous, just misunderstood. He likely hadn't done anything to get himself here. Simply existing was enough to be beaten and left to die. Making sure he was still breathing, Alothus used his limited knowledge of restoration magic to ensure that he'd wake up sometime soon, at the very least. Turning around, he watched as the two humans dealt with the rest of the thugs.
Jaune's mind suddenly felt like it was kicked into overdrive as his muscles twitched and the world seemed to slow around him. "Woah it feels like I've been blessed with the energy of a god!" He thought to himself as one of the drunks charged towards him, but with his new heightened reflexes it seemed like he was merely walking. Deciding to meet the man head on Jaune leapt at the drunken man, to both of their surprise his leap sent him colliding right into the man. The end result was both of them lying in a heap as they both groaned in dismay. "Okay, that was a bad idea." He said as he got up from the ground.
It would be hard getting used to his new energy all of the sudden so he would have to be careful not to seriously injure the drunk. "Sorry about that mate, let me help you up." He said while grabbing a hold of the mans hand before hauling him up onto his feet. A loud popping sound was heard as the man screamed out in pain as his shoulder was wrenched out of his socket. "Ohh sorry about that, but it shouldn't be that hard to fix right?" He said while patting the man on the back, which only served to drive him back onto the ground with a loud thud. "Well they do say that sleep is good for the body, but I think you're taking it to seriously." He said to the now unconscious man.
Kneeling down rummuging through the mans pockets Jaune sighed as his hands came up empty. "Oh come on buddy did you drink yourself dry?" He asked while looking towards the others in the alley. "Oh don't mind me, just checking if this dude has anything worth taking." He said as if he was simply buying produce.
Inventory
Metal cudgel (Blackjack)
Pouch (8 gold pieces)
Necklace with trinket
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
1 Year ago the military was on the losing side of the war. All seemed bleak until one soldier brought a penguin in to training. They had trained that penguin in the use of explosives and sent him out into the field. They had thought that they had won but the agent went rouge. Now he only lives on as a legend, the legend of ShotgunPenguin.
Tacitus suddenly felt much stronger and faster. What the heck? He thought to himself. He certainly wouldn't refuse the offer- it would make fighting them easier. But then, another person showed up and started to attack one of the drunks, while another tripped on himself, and a large rock came in and hit him. Tacitus took a glance back and noticed the man that was just watching earlier was smiling. Telekinesis, Tacitus surmised.
Turning his attention back to the fight, Tacitus went on the offensive without any magic, overwhelming the drunk. Tacitus purposefully didn't give the man any fatal blows, but he covered him in small cuts. He wanted to incapacitate the man, but not to kill him. Eventually, Tacitus kicked the man into a wall, knocking him unconscious. The cuts he gave the drunk were bad, but they would heal easily before he lost too much blood.
Tacitus turned and saw all three men were down for the count, and that the other two who fought with him were still here. One was searching the body of a drunk, while the other seemed to be healing the victim of the beating. "Hey, don't take their stuff, jerk. They're not criminals or anything, they just got drunk and probably picked a fight." Tacitus then went over to the victim of the three drunks.
It was a Lizardfolk. Tacitus was taught by most everyone that they were inferior to the rest of the races, but Tacitus didn't think that was reason enough to kill them. Even if they weren't as good as the rest of us, they at least deserved a chance. Tacitus then saw that the telekinesis person was healing him. Tacitus then thought that maybe he wasn't just telekinetic, but a support mage- which would explain how he got so strong and fast all of a sudden. "Hey, thanks for taking care of him. Saved me the trouble of finding a healer." Tacitus extended his hand. "I'm Tacitus, by the way."
Edit: ((I dont like keeping track of inventory with every post.))
"Well, that's all I can do." Looking up, he saw that the other two thugs had been taken care of. One was lying on the ground and the other was slouched against a wall. Both were unconscious. The guy who had entered the alley last was leaning over the drunk on the ground, going through his stuff. There was nothing Alothus hated more than thieves, and he had always refused to steal when his father said that they'd be better off if he did. Thieves do no work for themselves and take from others who earned their gold. The other human who was still standing had extended his hand and offered his name. Standing, he shook it and simply said "Alothus." Calling the thief over, he addressed both of them. "He'll wake up in an hour or two and be fine, there's nothing else I can do. He doesn't look like he has anything on him, so I'll leave him some gold and a message. There's no reason for us to stay here. I don't know what either of you will be doing, but I'm going home to train until I get a response on my guild application."
Grabbing a handful of gold coins out of his pocket, Alothus slipped them into the lizard's pocket and touched his forehead. My name is Alothus. I'm assuming you're not very well off, so here's some gold. I'm giving it to you for whatever you need, but don't go spend it on drinks. This might not happen very often, but I'm offering you my help if you need it. Shelter, food, training, whatever. I've seen what people do to people like you. I'll leave you directions to my house with the gold. The message would play in his head whenever he touched the gold. Finding a piece of cloth nearby, he used his finger to burn the directions into the fabric and put it in with the gold. After making sure the thugs were still alive and that they wouldn't wake up before the lizard person, he walked out of the alley and started down the street.
"Hey man it's not stealing if he has nothing to be stolen." Jaune said while shrugging off the other humans remark. Personally he couldn't understand why he was looking down on him, people take spoils of war all the time yet no one calls them thieves. Deciding to check on the victim of the drunkards beatings he grimaced as he saw that the man was a Lizardfolk. They were frequently a target of racism just because of their appearance and the thought of that made Jaune mad. It wasn't their fault that they were born that way so why should they be treated any differently by others? "Scum" He thought as he looked towards the unconscious trio.
After that the apparent mage had called him and the other man over to where the lizardman was on the ground. The mage then explained that the victim would awaken in about 2 hours and that he would leave him some gold and a note for when he woke up. He then explained that he would then leave to train until he gets a response for his guild application. "That reminds me, I still need to fill one of those out." Jaune thought as the mage burned something into some nearby cloth for the lizardman. After that he left, leaving Jaune, the swordsman, the 3 drunks and the victim. "Well I don't know about you but I'm feeling thirsty." Jaune said to the swordsman "So how about you and I go and grab a drink at the tavern? I'm sure that whatever the mage did the lizard guy should be fine."
Inventory
Blackjack (metal cudgel)
Pouch (8 gold pieces)
Necklace with trinket
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
1 Year ago the military was on the losing side of the war. All seemed bleak until one soldier brought a penguin in to training. They had trained that penguin in the use of explosives and sent him out into the field. They had thought that they had won but the agent went rouge. Now he only lives on as a legend, the legend of ShotgunPenguin.
The Meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything.
Join Date:
12/20/2010
Posts:
103
Minecraft:
IAmKnight
Member Details
5:34 pm
As the first day since the new law was introduced begins to set, the light on the busy streets of Althalos begin to darken as the sun hides from view. People start heading off to their night activities, some heading to taverns, others working through the night. Lamps and torches get lit and are hoisted on holders throughout the college, providing the night-life of drunks, thugs, thieves and assassins. Now, as the sun starts to set, the Outlaws Assocation begins to work at full gear, as hired thugs roam the streets for loot from anyone, and Watchmen roam to protect the civilians.
Hidden on a roof of a nearby building, a Soulsifter watches closely at the events of the bang-up in the alleyway. Hidden as if he were a shadow, he silently moves away as the results unfold, revealing the thugs beaten. He makes his way far enough to unveil his hood, and he sets aside his weapons, before making his way to the tavern in hopes of looking like a common thug looking for a drink. But this is just his way of work, for what he really wants to achieve is information.
OOC Thread here.
Piercing sounds of the awaiting crowd drifted through the air of the office Headmaster Korlund sat in. With the guidance of the High Council, the new law on mandatory guild membership had been approved. With this, it was necessary to make the announcement among all those of Althalos. He slouched in his chair, re-reading the parchment that detailed what he planned on saying, aware of the many people who waited down there, some patiently, others not so.
The door to his office made a slight creaking sound, bringing Korlund's head up. He saw the man who had brought the law to him, his head peeking into the office, Strulcar. He stepped in and stayed silent, allowing Korlund to speak first.
"Yes? What is it? I'm still reading this."
"My apologies, headmaster. The people are getting restless, this must begin soon or trouble may occur. Who knows what'll happen if the Shimmerthorn and the Fallenwell sit among each other for too long, not to mention the acolytes."
Korlund groaned and slung his head back. "I'll be out there soon, tell them to calm down, I've just got to finish this off. Go and tell Braldeth to do something about it."
Strulcar sighed. "Sir, the watchmen are not the best peacekeepers. Braldeth is more than capable of keeping riots under control, but that's when a fight is present. He's more of a fighter, not a diplomat-"
"Which is what you are, Strulcar." Korlund had cut into the High Council leader's words with his own. "I don't know. Handle it."
"Y-yes, sir." He shrinked back behind the door and silently closed it.
The headmaster proceeded with his recap on his speech, mumbling about laws and other nonsense.
The High Council stood among the balcony of the headmaster's office. below were the thousands of people presented in a huge foyer. Restless voices and shouts of ignorance resonated from the population of Althalos. Glotthor leaned over the balcony's fence and sighed. He looked over to Ayla.
"When will this be over? I'm already cooking in these robes." He emphasised his point by lifting his arm and shaking it slightly.
Strulcar fast-walked back to his position at the balcony and spoke before Ayla had a chance. "He's still reading that damn parchment. This is ridiculous."
"Well look, I'm going to go and get some shade. If I'm going to get cooked, I'd prefer to do so with some rabbit or something." Glotthor turned and headed for the entrance of the building. "Nevermind." He stopped as he saw the figure of Korlund approach him.
"Right, I'm here. Let's just get this over with," Korlund said with a sigh.
The headmaster approached the centre of the balcony stage, and raised his arms. Strulcar lifted his staff and focused on his alteration magic, creating a boom in Korlund's voice, so he could speak over the whole college. "People, people. Quiet. I have brought you all here for a reason, and I hope it will not take long." The large population looked up, voices being cut and silence growing among them. "You may have heard about a new law being introduced. This is true. We haven't created a new law in this college for, I believe, five centuries. Most of us know when those laws were introduced long ago, during the, uh... Fall, of Althalos, as we are all aware. Regardless, this is a simple law that was passed because the High Council and I believe it is a necessity. I will get right to the point.
"The College of Althalos has had over a thousand years of construction, and it continues to thrive, even better than our predecessors. Recently we have recaptured what is known as Malagdril's Forest, an achievement this college has not seen in generations. This was a huge victory to us as a large community. Regardless, it has come to me and the council that several of our citizens are unemployed and using our resources for wasted efforts. It is important that we do not befall to the time of The Old World, and to do this we need to work together. We have had many events related to this, but still this college has stragglers. Thus I have come to the decision to create this new law. From now, anyone aged fifteen or over is required by law to join a guild. For those turning fifteen, you have a month to decide. And for those who currently do not have a guild as of now, you also have a full month before legal action takes place. This new law will bring about a hopeful change among this college, and I expect all of you to trust the High Council and the laws, and how this benefits us as a whole."
Murmurs spiked up among the crowd, and a couple shouts were heard. Watchmen situated around the plaza grabbed the hilt's of their weapons, keeping them sheathed but ready. This action seemed to calm the population. Korlund continued.
"Now, this is all I wished to speak about. I believe many of you will abide by the law, and I hope no one causes any trouble. You are all dismissed."
Korlund turned from the balcony's fence and walked away from view from the population. Glatthor spoke up. "Glad that's over." Strulcar lowered his staff and followed Korlund into the building, to which Ayla, Bralik, Glotthor and Bughkil followed.
-----
A day passed, and already the college is under a suppressed state from the new law. Guild leaders are being covered in paperwork.
Alone in his office, a mysterious man hunched over a desk, his eyes closed and in deep thought. The door slowly opened, and a hooded man walked in, placing several papers onto the desk. "A collected list of possible members, sir." The man walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.
The mysterious hooded figure eyed down the papers, looking through a list of names and information, several caught his eye, and he sorted them into different piles. Though each candidate had different skills, they each had one thing in common; An affinity with dark magic.
In another office on the other side of the college, another man sat in his chair, playing with a throwing knife before throwing it at a board. He repeated this action, ignoring the stacks of paperwork. There were several candidates for their guild, though Khahman didn't believe the candidates were worthy. He decided to stop and looked over them once again. Though none were particularly skilled as he had hoped, some maintained his eye, and for those he placed on the side of the desk. He would need to send out some scouts for further information on this hopefuls.
Zyn sat in a dark corner of a tavern, sipping his glass of water. It wasn't quite cold enough, but that was alright, as long as it wasn't poisoned. He didn't really know what the new law was about, nor did he particularly care. What he cared about was survival. You aren't in the afterlife yet, so you may as well be concerned with staying out as long as possible. The new law could, however, get him into a guild, which would be useful for survival. Maybe he should apply for the Soulsifters or Theives guild or something
His gaze flickered over the other patrons, but most of them were chatting amongst themselves, and the ones that weren't were like him, here to have a drink and be solitary
OOC: that long enough?
OOC: It's long enough for a good minimum. Don't worry about slow posts, taking your time is good, although that's fine for now.
Tacitus was angry. More annoyed than angry, though. Being forced to join a guild seemed like a stupid law in his mind, but now he had no choice. Though he hadn't any money at the time, he made enough to get by through private tutoring with Artem, the Swordmaster. With a frown on his face, he recalled the guilds to the best of his knowledge.
The High Council would likely reject him immedietly, so Tacitus dismissed them. The Theives Guild got by through (go figure) stealing, which Tacitus didn't approve of. The Soulshifters were assassins, which Tacitus didn't have the stomach for. The Mercenaries Company was a collection of warriors for hire, which could work out. Nobody knew what the True Masons did- or at least, Tacitus didn't. Tacitus wasn't a religious man, so he crossed out the Order of Lord Phesephus and the Worshipers of Holy Vailcus. Tacitus did frequent the House of Sole Wizards to practice his magic and research new spells, so that was a possibility.
The Shimmerton Warriors were foolishly idealistic. Tacitus appreciated them, but their goal of no crime was simply not feasible. The Fallenwell also didn't suit him- even though crime wasn't going to go away, Tacitus didn't want it running rampant. The Watchmen of Althalos was another possibility- a simple guard position could work, and if he got far enough, he could possibly teach new recruits. The Alliance was the last one, and Tacitus crossed them out as well. He likely wouldn't qualify.
Tacitus had narrowed the field to the Mercenaries, the Wizards and the Watchmen. The lattest appealed to him the most. Tacitus filled out an application form for them over a meal and submitted it, just before four'o'clock. He then returned to the house he shared with Artem, and found him tutoring a new face. "Who's this one, old man?" Tacitus said.
"Old man?" Artem laughed. "I'm a man alright, but i'm not as old as you think. This one here's called Brom, he wants to become a Swordmage."
"Really?" Tacitus replied. "Then you'll be tutoring with me sometime, shorty."
"I'm not short!" He replied. "You're only an inch or two taller'n me!"
"And don't you forget it." Tacitus laughed and headed inside. He pulled out his tome and refreshed his memory of the more basic spells that he learned.
((Grammer edits))
March 17th, 1674E
4:34 pm
The sun sat high in the sky, refusing to lower beyond the spires of church halls or large guild buildings. With early spring in place, several birds chirped and many children ran through the streets, chasing or being chased by dogs. Every now and then beyond the walls of the college, the occasional roar of a beast echoed through the air, though the busy populous dismissed it as an ordinary event and continued with their day. However, it was slightly different, the tension in the air was a lot more evident. Many people were getting stressed with the new law being set, and a few thought the law as a waste of time.
Among those of the upset were mainly the leaders of the guilds. Being stacked with application forms was not something they enjoyed, and many, such as the Thieves Guild's leader Mesgar, were downright appalled with the decision of the High Council. Mesgar groaned in his chair and span in a circle, almost tipping off. "Well the stupid council doesn't have to worry about anything, no one gets accepted there. And this guild is the backbone of crime, c'mon. Look at all these papers." He turned to the stack of papers and lifted them up slightly, then dropped them back onto the desk, as if he was talking to someone in particular. "Ugh. And hardly anyone among these forms are actually good. And I've gotta go through every, single, one. I'm bored."
A looming shadow remained present on the off-side of the room, arms crossed. "You done moaning about this pathetic guild? Half the people here are crap anyway." Maglynn stood there, a scowl on her face. "There are some more forms coming in soon, I trust you'll be enjoying them."
"Ah, screw off, Mag." He leaned against the mossy stone wall and reached into his light armour, pulling out a cigar. With another reach in, he pulled out a lighter.
"Please, allow me." Maglynn lifted her hand and raised it towards Mesgar. With a slight focus, the tip of the cigar set ablaze, and was now lit.
"Why thank you, Maglynn. Now if you want to help some more, there are about one or two forms on the desk that need checking. As for me, I'm heading to the closest tavern for a drink." He put the cigar between his lips and smirked, and walked passed her through the doorway.
"I'm not doing this for you, lazy ass!" Maglynn shouted after Mesgar, who was well ahead through the corridor and already walking down the spiral stairs. A chuckle could be heard from him.
---
Within a large, gathering room, many voices could be heard, mixed with sounds of laughter. Several tables surrounded by stools lay present across the entire room, save one corner which presented a bar. Several gruff men and some women sat on these stools, either with a drink in their hand or just a weapon they were sharpening, or anything really. Each table seemed to be its own group, and it was clear what this place was. This room was the large gathering room of the Mercenaries Company, one of the largest guilds in the college, and possibly the largest with no specific guild leader. Among this gathering room was an in-built tavern to service both the residents of the guild and customers that venture through. Many folk are seen going through the room, some just for a drink or a time to think, others looking for bodyguard or work or some darker tasks.
There was a single office within the guild, occupied by whoever was sent there on that particular day. It was usually just a simple staff member of the Council, doing paperwork usually. Today, a small bearded man sat in the chair of the office, organising through paper work. It was the easiest job within the Mercenaries company, as almost anyone could be accepted, on the condition that they have no criminal background. Thus while there was a huge stack of papers from accepted applicants, there were only a few papers who were rejected, which were usually sent toe the Outlaws Association instead. Among these application papers was a simple application done by a man named Tacitus Bonosus. Without paying much attention to the application, the bearded man accepted him and placed him with the rest of the accepted applicants.
The one thing about the Mercenaries Company was that most accepted members didn't join anyway. Most people tended to fill in applications to several guilds, and joined the one that fit their liking the most from the accepted applications. Most people usually got accepted by the Mercenaries Company, thus only joined when not being accepted by any other guild. With the finishing of the current papers, the bearded man stood up and widened his arms vertically among the large stack, then compressed his arms in the air, which in turn seemed to cause the papers to collapse into a much smaller stack. He opened a suitcase and placed the papers in, then left the office to give them to the Delivery Guild, to be sent back to applicants.
---
Te House of Sole Wizards was perhaps one of the stranger guilds, although definitely the most sophisticated in knowledge. There it held the college's most famous library, and among the guild, practitioners of several magical arts paced among different rooms. Staff wondered through the halls, rushing to their lectures and some just heading for the staff room. With the new law in place, the guild was in much larger panic than normal, and at least 5 staff members were on paperwork duty.
Like that of the Mercenaries Company, the House of Sole Wizards was a guild that was much easier to get into than guilds such as the acolyte guilds, as the only requirement was a sound judgement of magic. With that, most applicants were accepted, as people who weren't attune to magic tended not to bother with this guild in general, some leaving it in their mind as a worthless guild. Among those applicants was one of Tacitus, whom the staff reading it was somewhat nodding his head at, approving the mix of both sword and magic. He approved the applicant and placed it in the pile, where once finished, he would send to the Delivery Guild with the rest.
---
Then there were the Watchmen of Althalos, one of the most known guilds of all. As Althalos protectors, several children wished to be among the ranks. It maintains its reputation of skilled fighters, though not as skilled as the Alliance, the Soulsifters, or the Shimmerthorn or Fallenwell. As the guild's general and trainer, Braldeth keeps the troops in line and keeps them fight and healthy. This has allowed for a somewhat peaceful college, and has kept it in great shape.
However, Braldeth despises of paperwork. And with no one else he trusts capable of doing so, he is forced to do it all himself. While handling a couple applications here and there normally is not a problem, the new law by the council got on his nerve, though it was not in his place to turn against the council. Without further argument he forced himself to sit in his office and handle the paperwork, receiving hundreds, if not thousands, or applications from all over the college.
One of the first of the papers was a sword-mage named Tacitus, who caught Braldeth's eye. He was somewhat confused as to why he would apply, though decided that the dual skilled capabilities would benefit the Watchmen. With no further judgement, he decided to approve of the application, and set it aside for later to deliver it to the Delivery Guild.
---
Glotthor sat on a red leather couch, his legs across the width of the couch. "Well, whaddya know, seems no one has attempted to join us. Though the thought is somewhat appreciated, I wouldn't stop laughing, so I suppose it's for the best."
"I dunno, I think a sixth member of the council could be interesting." This was Bralik, who sat on a marble bench, inspecting his warhammer.
"Or a seventh." Bughkil walked in, a grin on his face. He wore almost nothing, though this was of no surprise to the other members.
Glotthor grunted. "What do you think those two are doing in there anyway? They've been in there for an hour for Valicus's sake, I mean at this point you'd think that-" Glotthor stopped and widened his eyes. "Oh man, I hope not. Nooo, buddy. Get out of my head, imagination. Gross."
Bralik laughed. "Well, you have a point, they could be doing anything in there. You know how Ayla is. Can't stand not being near 'im. I say leave 'em alone and let's have a friendly game of Old Maid, hmm? I've got the cards already." He lifted a packet of old, bent cards from his armour's pocket.
Glotthor looked over to the cards and smiled. "You're on, old man."
Garuda sat in the shade of a tree in one of the College's large parks, keeping a watchful eye on the throngs of children playing around her. A small bird perched on her shoulder, which she absentmindedly stroked between its wings as she pondered. Like everyone else, she had heard the new city-wide decree. All guildless members must now join one of the city's multitude of guilds. While some guildless members of the College were scrambling around like trapped animals, Garuda felt a sense of peace. If anything, the city's new law made it so that her guild of choice would HAVE to accept her. Or so she hoped.
If my piousness, my dedication to doing good, if none of that can get me in, shouldn't the Worshippers of Holy Valicus be required to let me in? Garuda shook her head, standing upright. The bird on her shoulder flitted away, and she gave it a small wave as it left. Briskly, she began to make her way to the Worshippers' home base. With this new decree, she would be accepted into the Worshippers of Holy Valicus. Her plan was to be so kind and gentle, such a pious and inspiring role model, that it would be a mark of shame for the Worshippers to not accept her into their ranks.
Zyn finishes his drink, and leaves the money for it by his empty glass, and silently slides his chair back. He stands up and leaves the tavern, avoiding people, and decides to take advantage of the new law. He goes to a quiet location and pulls out several pieces of paper and a quill.
He starts copying down the necessary information for his applications and copies it down onto every piece of paper, filling up front and back, ending up with about 5 copies of what's essentially a resume. He walks down to the place that you turn them into, sending one to the Soulsifters guild, another one to the Thieves, and on a whim, one to the Mercenary's guild, keeping 2 copies for himself.
Inventory: Everything from before, minus 1 gold
77 gold
weapons and armor and crap
A quill
two resumes
((EDITED))
4:46 pm
Among the halls of Valicus, many acolytes sat in pews, watching their leader Presfiel demonstrate restoration magic on her current assistant. She had known plenty of applications had gone through, and with the new law she wasn't sure if plenty of people were attempting to join criminal guilds, especially the Order. She had already gotten tired over a number of applicants, and wanted to practice some magic.
During the interval of a speech and demonstration, one of her acolytes walked up with a few more papers on her hand. "More applicants, miss."
She took them and looked through the batch, pausing on Garuda's application. "This is the one who's been trying to join for a while, now, right?"
"That is correct."
She scratched behind her ear and then put the papers down on a desk. "Well I suppose with the new law, if she doesn't join she may go to the Order..." She sighs and nods to the acolyte, before continuing her demonstrations.
---
Khahman sighed as he looked over the potential candidates. He wasn't surprised to see so many, but his guild was limited for a reason. He had been impressed with one candidate, who seemed to excel in stealth and had no hesitation executing targets. Another had caught his eye when he saw a drow with somewhat decent capabilities with several knives and enchanted weapons, and the last that caught his eye was a man who murdered for fun, though Khahman had decided against it.
His best choice would be the stealthy one, but he decided to keep an eye on the drow for now.
---
Mesgar walked into the tavern, ignoring the random threats from the drunk. As he walked in, he passed a drow who caught his interest. Without another thought, he turned back to the bar and sat on the stool. "Give me a shot of anything."
---
The bearded man continued to accept most applicants in the Mercenaries Company, including a drow who he had paid absolutely no attention to. These papers went back to the Deliver Guild, where the applicants could expect an acceptance from the guild when opening the letter.
((You mean a quill, Zyngard? Also for things like gold, you should drop your inventory with your post to keep track of the gold. Assume a beer costs 8 gold, while a rabbit leg might cost 5 gold, a whole chicken might cost 20 gold, etc etc. Whatever seems reasonable.))
((Now I can imagine the Mercenary leader just going "Check. Next. Check. Next. Check. Next..."))((And I edited my post))
Zyn walked around the college for a while, making sure his coin purse was in it's usual location without drawing too much attention to where it was, because you could never know who a thief was. It could be that homeless man, that... guild leader? Yeah, the guild leader was definitely a thief. Especially since that was the leader of the guild OF thieves.
He eventually went to the Deliver Guild to see if he had been accepted by anything yet. He checked his mail/whatever and wasn't surprised to see that the Mercenary Guild had accepted him. Nothing else had come in yet, but he decided to stick around just in case. It hadn't been that long after all, just a couple of hours since he sent his application in.
Inventory:
Same stuff as last time
Item Got! Guild Application: Accepted for the mercenary guild. No surprise
“Another round!” Wyth’ram drawled, his tongue laced with acid and sleep. He collapsed back onto the counter, letting his head rest for a moment as the bartender, a human scumbag, refilled his glass. It was not yet five in the afternoon, and the reptilian was as drunk as could be.
Adjusting his shoulder, Wyth’ram realized how tired he was. “Another round and I’ll be out,” he murmured into the wood of the table. His inebriation blocked him from thinking without words.
The bar was old, and it smelled as bad as the tavern itself. There was a plethora of finer establishments in the college, some no less than a couple of blocks away, but the nicer ones didn’t like drunken Lizardfolk. They probably didn’t like Lizardfolk at all, but it was only the drunken ones whom they could kick out with good reason. “Why’s e’eryone always out to get me,” Wyth’ram lamented, still breathing into the wood. The clink of glass against a metal ring told Wyth’ram that his drink was being readied. “Thank the living god.”
Each part of the long bar had indentations and scratches. Some had once been words or symbols, but now they all formed one huge, unplanned pattern. It was art, in some ways. Wyth’ram took his claw, and absently he added a few of his own marks into this grandiose masterpiece. “Yes, that’s good. So good,” he decided. He had marked a cross. “Cross for salvation, cross for death,” Wyth’ram intoned, making some random rhyme just as a burly warrior plunked himself onto a stool three distant from Wyth’ram’s own. “Cross for the elf with the very bad breath.”
The warrior turned and looked to the reptilian. Eyes met, each full of their own dulled cunning. Most elves were lithe and noble, but this was a monster of an elf. He was muscular like a dwarf, and ugly like a man. He was an outsider, clearly, and so he was in this bar. “All alone,” Wyth’ram mocked. His head still rested, exhausted, on the bar.
The elf laughed, and stood up. He may have been muscular, more dwarf and man like than most of his kind, but he was still tall - easily equal to Wyth’ram when the reptilian stood to his full stature. Wyth’ram wondered why the elf laughed, though, and decided to flit his eyes around him.
The elf was not alone.
A human and a dwarf, both nearly mirror images of the elf, were standing only just out of Wyth’ram’s peripheral vision. If Wyth’ram were one to curse, now would have been a time in which he might have done just that. He loved a good fight, but never were his fights good - not when he was so drunk he could nearly cry.
The barkeep had returned with Wyth’ram’s goblet refilled, but seeing that Wyth’ram would not be capable of drinking in a very short while, he left and gave the cup to another patron. The thuggish elf, the tall dwarf, and the noble-rugged human knew well enough that they would be dealing with this reptilian in the alley-way.
“Man, I was so set not to punch anyone today!” the human said, punching his own hand with a dramatic fist. He was too dramatic to have been severely drunk. The dwarf chuckled and the elf smiled. Wyth’ram stood up and led the way out of the bar.
One. Two. Three. Four. Three. Five. Six. He lost count. The punches and the kicks did not stop. Wyth’ram stopped counting.
He tried to fight back, at first. They preferred it when you did that; he had learned this back in the magician’s guild through experience. Beating a submissive target seemed to trigger some repulsion within a man or a dwarf, and it did not fit with the noble standing of an elf. An orc, however, would usually be fine with the action. Wyth’ram thought, those creatures are so dumb-witted. Orcs were not the usual suspects, though. It was the humans for whom Wyth’ram held the most suppressed disdain. It was they who deserved the most ill-karma.
After a while, however, Wyth’ram would stop fighting back. He would stop swinging his claws, cease to deal cuts and bruises. It used to be that he would run, run and hide, but he found that it was actually easier, especially when drunk, to simply succumb to the superiority of the group which attacked him. So, there would come a point when Wyth’ram, though still minutely capable of retaliation, would stop exerting any effort into defending himself. He would stop hating, and he would cease to think. He would sit and he would find the most enjoyable part of the pain. Still, he did not know which part that was, but he was sure that it existed, if he could only find it. Why else would pain exist?
Inventory:
Alothus couldn't be happier with his current situation. Now sitting at home after listening to Korlund speak, he was finally ready to submit an application. Even though he was above the average mage that you would come across in the streets, he still feared that The Sole Wizards would have some reason to deny him. Now that he was forced to join a guild, he had no choice but to submit an application that he had been working on for weeks. After rewriting it at least twenty times, he was finally ready to have it delivered.
---
With that out of the way, Alothus set out for one of The College's nicer taverns. For the next few years he would be training and studying as much as he could to become the best mage he could. For now, however, he would treat himself. Taking a seat a the bar, he slams ten gold on the counter. The bartender, who is one of his close friends, puts it on the house. Downing his drink, he stands and joins in on a nearby discussion about the new law. "It's ridiculous," a dwarf says, slamming his fist on the table, "my smithing business is finally starting to get me some decent gold and now I have to take time out of my day to deal with this guild nonsense. The whole thing's a waste of time. Sure, it helps those worthless Council people out, but what does it do for the rest of us? Nothing changes for them. Y'know, I've heard whispers of a rebellion and I have half a mind to join it." Shushing him angrily, the female elf to his right looked concerned. "Stop talking like that Horakal," she said, "you know that even speaking of treason can get you killed. In the middle of a bar, too."
Seeing that the two of them weren't in the mood to chat, Alothus looked at the only other person in the tavern, a shady figure in the corner by himself. The way he looked at the elf was... concerning. Probing around in the man's mind a little, he found nothing. It was strange. Almost like there weren't any tho- GET OUT OF MY HEAD. The words bounced around in Alothus's brain and caused him to stumble backwards. The man obviously knew a thing or two about telepathy. Sliding a dagger out of his pocket, he lunged. It was obvious from the look in his eyes that he planned on killing at least one person before leaving the tavern. Throwing his hand up, Alothus pinned the man against the wall and rendered him unconscious by sending a chair flying into his head. "Well..." Alothus said, "at least he didn't accomplish whatever he was trying to do here." Tidying up the place, he left and was careful to avoid eye contact with anybody outside. All he wanted to do now is go home. His life had never truly been threatened until today. He wanted to get as far away from the tavern as possible, but running would draw attention to him.
---
As he made his way through some of the poorer parts of The College, he heard some noises coming from near one of the run-down taverns. It was in his best interests to leave it alone, but he at least wanted to know what was happening. He could sense four people, but only three were moving. The same three were hostile, the fourth were not. As he was unable to get anything more without being able to see it for himself, Alothus peeked around the corner and saw that three people were standing over another. He couldn't quite make out the fourth from where he was standing but he could tell that the three had nearly identical builds and were all significantly stronger than him. They seemed to be attacking the fourth person, who was not any sort of threat to him and was likely the victim of a few drunk thugs looking for a right. He had absolutely no reason to help the stranger, as things like this happened every day and they were probably used to it. But after what had happened earlier, he felt stronger. Confident in his abilities. After making himself more intimidating by changing how others would see him, Alothus stepped into the alley and sent a telepathic message in their direction. I suggest you leave whoever that is alone.
Inventory
Light Robes
Ring of Focus
80 Gold
It was later in the afternoon, and the sun was starting to drop off of the horizon, but it wasn't sunset just yet. Tacitus left the house after Brom had left from his first session with Artem, and they had already decided that Brom would take his next session with Tacitus. He decided to check the Delivery Guild for news of the applications he sent, though he didn't expect them back so quickly.
On his way, Tacitus heard sounds of a fight near a tavern. He knew his applications would take awhile, so a detour wouldn't hurt. He wandered the back alleys a short while before stumbling upon five people- one was standing, gazing at the other four. The four seemed to be in some sort of fight, with it being three-to-one. The one was laying on the ground, beaten senseless by the others.
"What, you just gonna stand there and enjoy the show?" Tacitus said to the man watching. He shook his head in disapproval before drawing his sword and moving forward. "You three should step away now. I think he's had enough." All four of them were obviously drunk out of their minds, so Tacitus knew a fight was going to happen. He decided that he should be able to take on three drunken brutes alone, but that he'd probably take a few hits. But still, nobody deserved to be treated like that.
Edit: Inventory
Sword
Waterskin (full)
Clothes
Backpack
Meal(Consumed in first post)5:12 pm
A knock on the old, torn door startled Khahman from his sleep. A member of the Soulsifter's opened the door and apologised, before handing an envelope to Khahman. "This was given to us by an anonymous source. A note came with it saying only you could see it, sir."
"Hmm? Okay, give it here." He grabbed the envelope and inspected it, turning it over and checking it out. He looked over to the man who remained at the door. "Well?"
"Sorry." The man immediately scurried out of the room and closed the door behind him.
Khahman leaned back on his chair and put his feet up. He carefully opened the letter and pulled out a small document, with an overly obvious symbol:
Khahman groaned and scratched his temple. He slung his head back and looked up at the ceiling for a couple seconds, before looking back down at the paper.
The morning sun shined brightly as Jaune raised his hand in an attempt to block the offending light from his eyes. The decrepit shack that he called home was little more than some hay and a worn blanket with a broken table propped up in the corner so he could eat whatever he was lucky enough to get his hands on. Life has never been easy living like he did, but it wasn't like he had any other skills to fall back upon. Stealing wasn't exactly a honest profession and he had to be careful not to steal too much or else he would attract the attention of the guards.
"Looks like it's time to make another food run." He sighed to himself as he grabbed his cudgel, lovingly named blackjack, and headed into town. The walk was peaceful and short as Jaune entered the town, his eyes scanning his surroundings as he slowly walked the streets. Something was wrong, there weren't as many people as there should have been, almost as if they all went somewhere without telling him. "Oh well, hopefully that just means I won't have to worry about the guards." He said to himself as he broke into a light jog towards the center of the town.
He had just about reached the center of the town when he encountered the mass crowd which seemed to be dispersing. Walking up alongside one of the citizens who were walking Jaune asks "Excuse me, but where did everyone just come from? I seemed to have missed the message?" The woman paused for a second before answering "We just attended an announcement by headmaster Korlund. Every citizen must now join a guild if not already in one." Huh, joining a guild? Sure the thought of joining a guild had crossed Jaunes mind more than a few times, but he always decided against it since he liked to be free. "But now it's mandatory to join a guild I'll have to act fast. maybe I can get into a guild and just sit around all day and do nothing" He thought as he smiled and thanked the woman. As she left he took a moment to open the leather pouch that he had swiped off the woman while she was talking. "6 gold pieces, nice." Deciding to get something to eat and find a place to fill out his application he heads towards the nearest tavern.
Hearing a commotion from around the tavern Jaune walked towards a nearby ally and watched what appeared to be a drunken brawl take place. 3 drunken men were facing off against a possibly slightly less drunken man. Another man was just watching while yet another was beaten and on the floor. Now Jaune was no saint, but even he couldn't just stand there and watch while the men fought. Bringing forth blackjack he twirled it to loosen his wrist as he stepped up besides the man who drew his blade. "Hey there, name's Jaune, and I'll be the one kicking your ass today." He cheered towards the 3 drunken men.
Inventory edit
Metal cudgel
pouch (8 gold pieces)
Necklace with trinket
As two other men charged into the alleyway, Alothus sighed. Nobody understood the type of magic that he practiced. In the eyes of many, you weren't a mage unless you were slinging fire at your foes. Focusing, he found the energy of the two self-proclaimed heroes and boosted their adrenaline. Tweaking their brains, both would immediately feel a change in their bodies. The human body was not made to perform as well as it could, but it was easy to fix that issue for a short period of time. Their muscles would work at least twice as well as they normally would. Plugging into the minds of the drunken thugs, he made the alley significantly darker for them, making it nearly impossible to fight. As he charged into the alley, he said "Three against two? Now how is that fair?" He used telekinesis to make one of them trip over nothing and fall to the ground, then sent a chunk of stone at the thug's head.
He quickly moved on to the victim of the trio, and the first thing he noticed was that it was one of those strange lizard people that the public rarely saw. They often kept to themselves, and for good reason. He'd seen what people had done to guys like these. It was horrible. Like most, he had grown up being taught to despise them, that they were monsters who existed only to do terrible things to innocent people. But unlike his parents, he had the ability to see into their minds. They weren't dangerous, just misunderstood. He likely hadn't done anything to get himself here. Simply existing was enough to be beaten and left to die. Making sure he was still breathing, Alothus used his limited knowledge of restoration magic to ensure that he'd wake up sometime soon, at the very least. Turning around, he watched as the two humans dealt with the rest of the thugs.
Inventory
Light Robes
Ring of Focus
80 Gold
Jaune's mind suddenly felt like it was kicked into overdrive as his muscles twitched and the world seemed to slow around him. "Woah it feels like I've been blessed with the energy of a god!" He thought to himself as one of the drunks charged towards him, but with his new heightened reflexes it seemed like he was merely walking. Deciding to meet the man head on Jaune leapt at the drunken man, to both of their surprise his leap sent him colliding right into the man. The end result was both of them lying in a heap as they both groaned in dismay. "Okay, that was a bad idea." He said as he got up from the ground.
It would be hard getting used to his new energy all of the sudden so he would have to be careful not to seriously injure the drunk. "Sorry about that mate, let me help you up." He said while grabbing a hold of the mans hand before hauling him up onto his feet. A loud popping sound was heard as the man screamed out in pain as his shoulder was wrenched out of his socket. "Ohh sorry about that, but it shouldn't be that hard to fix right?" He said while patting the man on the back, which only served to drive him back onto the ground with a loud thud. "Well they do say that sleep is good for the body, but I think you're taking it to seriously." He said to the now unconscious man.
Kneeling down rummuging through the mans pockets Jaune sighed as his hands came up empty. "Oh come on buddy did you drink yourself dry?" He asked while looking towards the others in the alley. "Oh don't mind me, just checking if this dude has anything worth taking." He said as if he was simply buying produce.
Inventory
Metal cudgel (Blackjack)
Pouch (8 gold pieces)
Necklace with trinket
Tacitus suddenly felt much stronger and faster. What the heck? He thought to himself. He certainly wouldn't refuse the offer- it would make fighting them easier. But then, another person showed up and started to attack one of the drunks, while another tripped on himself, and a large rock came in and hit him. Tacitus took a glance back and noticed the man that was just watching earlier was smiling. Telekinesis, Tacitus surmised.
Turning his attention back to the fight, Tacitus went on the offensive without any magic, overwhelming the drunk. Tacitus purposefully didn't give the man any fatal blows, but he covered him in small cuts. He wanted to incapacitate the man, but not to kill him. Eventually, Tacitus kicked the man into a wall, knocking him unconscious. The cuts he gave the drunk were bad, but they would heal easily before he lost too much blood.
Tacitus turned and saw all three men were down for the count, and that the other two who fought with him were still here. One was searching the body of a drunk, while the other seemed to be healing the victim of the beating. "Hey, don't take their stuff, jerk. They're not criminals or anything, they just got drunk and probably picked a fight." Tacitus then went over to the victim of the three drunks.
It was a Lizardfolk. Tacitus was taught by most everyone that they were inferior to the rest of the races, but Tacitus didn't think that was reason enough to kill them. Even if they weren't as good as the rest of us, they at least deserved a chance. Tacitus then saw that the telekinesis person was healing him. Tacitus then thought that maybe he wasn't just telekinetic, but a support mage- which would explain how he got so strong and fast all of a sudden. "Hey, thanks for taking care of him. Saved me the trouble of finding a healer." Tacitus extended his hand. "I'm Tacitus, by the way."
Edit: ((I dont like keeping track of inventory with every post.))
Inventory:
Sword
Waterskin (full)
Clothes
Backpack
"Well, that's all I can do." Looking up, he saw that the other two thugs had been taken care of. One was lying on the ground and the other was slouched against a wall. Both were unconscious. The guy who had entered the alley last was leaning over the drunk on the ground, going through his stuff. There was nothing Alothus hated more than thieves, and he had always refused to steal when his father said that they'd be better off if he did. Thieves do no work for themselves and take from others who earned their gold. The other human who was still standing had extended his hand and offered his name. Standing, he shook it and simply said "Alothus." Calling the thief over, he addressed both of them. "He'll wake up in an hour or two and be fine, there's nothing else I can do. He doesn't look like he has anything on him, so I'll leave him some gold and a message. There's no reason for us to stay here. I don't know what either of you will be doing, but I'm going home to train until I get a response on my guild application."
Grabbing a handful of gold coins out of his pocket, Alothus slipped them into the lizard's pocket and touched his forehead. My name is Alothus. I'm assuming you're not very well off, so here's some gold. I'm giving it to you for whatever you need, but don't go spend it on drinks. This might not happen very often, but I'm offering you my help if you need it. Shelter, food, training, whatever. I've seen what people do to people like you. I'll leave you directions to my house with the gold. The message would play in his head whenever he touched the gold. Finding a piece of cloth nearby, he used his finger to burn the directions into the fabric and put it in with the gold. After making sure the thugs were still alive and that they wouldn't wake up before the lizard person, he walked out of the alley and started down the street.
Inventory
Light Robes
Ring of Focus
55 Gold
"Hey man it's not stealing if he has nothing to be stolen." Jaune said while shrugging off the other humans remark. Personally he couldn't understand why he was looking down on him, people take spoils of war all the time yet no one calls them thieves. Deciding to check on the victim of the drunkards beatings he grimaced as he saw that the man was a Lizardfolk. They were frequently a target of racism just because of their appearance and the thought of that made Jaune mad. It wasn't their fault that they were born that way so why should they be treated any differently by others? "Scum" He thought as he looked towards the unconscious trio.
After that the apparent mage had called him and the other man over to where the lizardman was on the ground. The mage then explained that the victim would awaken in about 2 hours and that he would leave him some gold and a note for when he woke up. He then explained that he would then leave to train until he gets a response for his guild application. "That reminds me, I still need to fill one of those out." Jaune thought as the mage burned something into some nearby cloth for the lizardman. After that he left, leaving Jaune, the swordsman, the 3 drunks and the victim. "Well I don't know about you but I'm feeling thirsty." Jaune said to the swordsman "So how about you and I go and grab a drink at the tavern? I'm sure that whatever the mage did the lizard guy should be fine."
Inventory
Blackjack (metal cudgel)
Pouch (8 gold pieces)
Necklace with trinket
5:34 pm
As the first day since the new law was introduced begins to set, the light on the busy streets of Althalos begin to darken as the sun hides from view. People start heading off to their night activities, some heading to taverns, others working through the night. Lamps and torches get lit and are hoisted on holders throughout the college, providing the night-life of drunks, thugs, thieves and assassins. Now, as the sun starts to set, the Outlaws Assocation begins to work at full gear, as hired thugs roam the streets for loot from anyone, and Watchmen roam to protect the civilians.
Hidden on a roof of a nearby building, a Soulsifter watches closely at the events of the bang-up in the alleyway. Hidden as if he were a shadow, he silently moves away as the results unfold, revealing the thugs beaten. He makes his way far enough to unveil his hood, and he sets aside his weapons, before making his way to the tavern in hopes of looking like a common thug looking for a drink. But this is just his way of work, for what he really wants to achieve is information.