Topic [A] Devilclaw Outlaws: Cutting the Mists
((Let's see, what did I do this weekend? Oh yes, I had a constant stream of PvE, BGs, wPvP and an eight hour RP marathon. I was NEVER without an outlaw or ten by my side. This guild gives you your 15 bucks worth people. ))
"Seven," Ottavia repeated flatly.
"Seven, I'm telling you! They practically accosted me to get at my bags!" The plaintiff cries of a young, wiry Kaldorei woman stung the mage's ears.
"I've seen you evade worse, Sin'serrar. Thinkin' you're gettin' careless with your deliveries. I never used to see you slip in an' out."
The trader, "Sin'serrar" as she'd been called, looked sheepish. A torn satchel drooped from her shoulder and stunk of spoiled milk and spilled Firewater. "You're right. Of course you're right. Won't happen again," piped the trader. She stuck out her palm, which Ottavia regarded with thinly-veiled amusement.
"What am I supposed to do with that? Shake it?"
"P-payment," stammered the trader.
Ottavia snorted, turning back to the entrance of the Scarlet Raven. "Payment upon delivery, Sin'serrar. No goods, no coin," she called over her shoulder.
The elf's ingratiating sheepishness shifted into agitation. "But--!"
Ottavia paused, throwing an agitated look over her shoulder. "You know the rules." She turned to the entrance, nudging the broken shipment of bottles that littered the entrance of the Raven. Careless twit.
90 Human Mage
(( It's 'cuz DCO is the best. Mhm. ))
Edited by Toreyn on 11/28/12 9:26 AM (PST)
DCO is looking to add a few players interested in rated battlegrounds. While DCO has a strong RP community we do not require RP to be a member. Non-rp players are only required to show respect for all RP on ED.
For more information contact an officer in game or visit our site below.
Seyahat limps back to Stormwind and the little room she's taken there, Duskwood being too noisy these days for anyone to sleep, and throws her blades onto the bed with a curse. She immediately regrets it and gathers them up again, sets them on the table for a good cleaning. What happened tonight wasn't the fault of her blades.
"Curse all Blood Elves," she mutters. "Curse that idiot Worgen. Curse Dycern anyway, and those thrice-blasted shadows of hers." She keeps muttering under her breath as she unbuckles her bloodied armor. It needs cleaning as well, and she curses herself, too, for having more spirit than sense. She had known she wouldn't be even a moment's distraction to those Earthspear Clan, but with Araane and the others charging into the fray, she couldn't help but follow.
She collapses into the rickety wooden chair with another curse, and starts getting her boots off. "She was just a battered little Sin'dorei, a helpless prisoner," she grumbles. "If you wanted to kill her so badly, why didn't you just do it? No honor in that, but what difference is honor?" Her lips draw back from her teeth in a snarl and she throws a boot across the room. "Does war have to make murderers of us?"
((bump for awesome RP-PvP last night with Earthspear Clan!))
Edited by Toreyn on 11/30/12 7:38 AM (PST)
The hunter made his way from the Blue Recluse. As he exited he saw a familiar Kaldoeri making her way thru the city. He noticed her armor was badly battered and bloodstained. He followed her thru the streets and alleys. When she stopped her mount and dismounted he noticed she moved with a noticeable limp.
He followed her in the building at a cautious distance. As he walked he withdrew a large pile of windwool bandages. He had lost sight of her but the trail of dripping blood led straight to her door.
He paused to listen, carefully straining his ears, several clangs and thuds caused his ears to twitch more than once. Finally the room grew silent, he knocked firmly on her door.
Several moments passed and no sounds came from the room.
"Seya, it's Tor, if you don't dress that leg wound the forsaken in Duskwood will become really friendly with you."
The door finally clicked open and Toreyn saw Seya standing with a dagger at the ready. He offered her a brief grin and walked inside without any invitation. He looked at her leg and the fresh claw markings glowed red under her remaining garments.
He pointed her to a chair and held up the windwool bandages.
"I can make this an order or you can accept a rare friendly gesture from an officer. Either way, sit."
The rogue looked confused and frustrated. After a moment of thought she finally sat down.
"Better. Now why all the cursing and slamming? We may have lost the prisoner but we won the battle and no Outlaw was crippled or killed. So a good evening in my book."
Edited by Seyahat on 11/30/12 10:00 AM (PST)
Seya bit back a wince as Toreyn carefully pulled the ruined fabric of her leggings away from the gashes and began to see to the wound. Officer he might be, but she was as comfortable with him as she was with any Outlaw, and more than most; she was glad to see him.
Of course she would have said the same of Fin before the events of the evening. Now she didn't know whether Fin would suffer to be in the same room with her, or her with him. It was one thing to face an enemy in battle, or attack someone who posed a threat, but the Sin'dorei woman had been neither of those things. And killing her wouldn't have stopped her comrades from coming for her.
But while Seya hadn't liked the bloodthirst some of the Outlaws had displayed, she also didn't like that she was questioning herself now, and whether she was wrong to have spoken against it. The woman was an enemy, a Sin'dorei, and if she were to slay one of the Outlaws in battle after Seya had protested killing her in cold blood, well...what good was honor to the dead?
"I just...I hate when we fight amongst ourselves," she said at last. "We have enough enemies without turning on each other, but is it right to murder a helpless prisoner, even if she is Sin'dorei?" She nibbled the edge of her thumb and watched Tor rummage in his bag for some concoction, and then continued hesitantly, "And I can't believe Fin doesn't see how changed Dycern is. At first I thought those shadows could be a weapon, but the longer she bears them, the more it seems that she's becoming a weapon put to their use, not the other way 'round."
Toreyn finished wrapping the wound and moved to the open chair next to Seya. He listened quietly to her speaking and continued to eye the wound, ensuring he wrapped the leg tight enough.
"There's no doubt Dycern has changed." He paused in thought, scratched his head and continued speaking.
"Yet, you are hardly the same newblood we wandered into the Raven not so long ago. Our dwarven shaman cannot be blamed for his emotion with Araane's choices to allow the Sin'dorei to live." He stopped a moment to check her dressing, and looked up to her grinning with satisfaction of his work.
"We aren't your typical military unit. Being an Outlaw rarely encourages agreement among the ranks. The success of the Outlaws has always been an understanding the chain of command."
Toreyn stood and offered her his hand up.
"Still I suspect you have much deeper concerns over the latest developments. I believe we should adjourn to the Recluse and secure drinks until your injury feels improved and your spirits too."
The hunter flashed her a bright toothy grin.
Seya took Tor's hand and let him pull her to her feet, and somewhere found a smile to give him. "If anything can lift my spirits, it'll be a flagon of ale and your...unique perspective, Toreyn. The Recluse it is, then."
She let herself lean on him as they left her room, taking comfort in his sturdy form and familiar, warm smell. Maybe by the end of the night, things wouldn't seem so dire.
After all, they'd survived far worse than this. They were the Devilclaw Outlaws, and nothing could keep them down for long.
The two made their way thru the the allies of Stormwind, Toreyn saw a large shadow moving thru the crowd. Toreyn stopped moving appearing to let Seyahat rest for a moment. His eyes trained on the elf in shadows watching her move into the Northern enterance of the Mage Quarter.
Toreyn leaned over and whispered to the other.
"Dycern walked past us and didn't even acknowledge us. Let's go greet her."
Seya gave him a worried look and nodded in agreement. The turned the corner and entered into the Mage quarter. Toreyn watched the priest standing near the Slaughtered Lamb. The hunter paused in thought standing off to the side of Dycern's direct view, thinking over his next move.
Edited by Dycern on 12/1/12 11:49 PM (PST)
Dycern stood still for a long while in front of the entrance to the Slaughtered Lamb, her shadows moving slowly seemingly in thought with her. Suddenly they flickered and turned a darker shade of blue.
"Spying doesn't suit you Seya. Perhaps you should begin training in some other area?" she said loud enough for the two to hear. "And Tor,.. your skill is slipping."
With that being said she turned away from the entrance and looked in their direction. They were not very far, huddled behind a tree.
"If I knew I would be having guests tag along to the Slaughtered Lamb, I would have had a drink before hand."
Dycern's head slumped to the side as she gave the two an odd look, waiting to hear their excuse for following her.
Seya scowled at her; the insult stung, even if it was baseless. "We weren't spying on you," she snapped. "We were on our way to the Blue Recluse for a drink -- which I could use badly, thanks in part to you -- and you walked right past us without so much as a 'hello'. Is that any way to treat your fellows?" She jerked her chin at the shadows that flickered and licked around Dycern's lithe form. "Or do those things keep you so wrapped up that you didn't even take note of us?"
"She was sparin' ye havin' te hash this whole thing out again" came a familiar voice from inside the lamb. The brawny dwarf stepped out of the entrance of the Lamb, immediately eyeing the three gathered Outlaws while holding a large mug of ale. "We dinna all part on good terms back in te dusk, I think it'd be best ta just leave it be for a bit"
Dycern did not seem shocked by the dwarfs presence, however Toreyn and Seyahat did, and Seyahat didn't appear excited to seem him.
"Now if'n ye don't mind, I'd like ta have a drink, and ferget about tonights happenin's", Findar spoke while bringing his stein to his lips and taking drink.
Dycern nodded slowly in agreement with Fin.
"You forget so quickly what you said to me, Seya? You expect me to greet you? Perhaps smile and nod, give a little bounce?" Dycern spoke with pure mock, practically spitting the words out as she flashed a forced grin.
"Maybe I should hand out flowers like some others do? Hmmm? After all, it's such a peaceful rosy world we live in! No such thing as Mana Bombs - Theramore still perfectly intact. No horde to blame or kill for brutally slaying anyone, isn't that so? We should give them amnesty. Isn't that what you and Araane would like?" As Dycern finished her statement she unceremoniously spat on the ground. Her expression changed from angry to a malicious look.
"No money to be made? No opportunities to exploit. Oh my, wouldn't that be a sad state of affairs." Dycern stifled a laugh and her shadows seemed to bounce playfully. She then turned her attention away from Seya and back to Fin. Letting out a low sigh, her expression returned to a placid stare.
"How about that drink Fin?"
The dwarf lowered the stein he was drinking from and nodded. They both entered the Slaughtered Pig, not looking back to see if the other two bothered to follow or carry on their way.
What did I do this weekend? Well I ran a lot of BGs,.. A LOT. We were dominating the temple. Or as I like to call it, the 'Horde Sacrificial Pit'. Got in some sweet arena matches. Got in some RP - which was crashed by battle hammer.. course I was the one silly enough to plan it in SW.
The highlight though,... spamming /kiss and /love on Mordrok in TB on Sunday night. <3
I DIED FOR YOU MORDROK! .. I let my team DOWN, because instead of attacking I was trying my damnedest to follow you around and give you some sweet sweet lovin'!
......I mean....... umm, DISREGARD THE ABOVE.. I WAS MELTING FACES I SWEAR IT!