• Graded • Aren't you that guy? [Doran]

[Ryder]

27th Zi'da, 717

"Ale" Ryder nodded to Methilda, having seen her every day since the bar fight the week prior. She rolled her eyes and poured him a glass, sliding it over to him. She leaned up against the bar. In the past few weeks, the two had started to build a small relationship. It was in no way a friendship, or anything so personal. But the amount of Ale he bought daily was enough to keep his company welcome, and the conversations the two had was enough to keep Ryder from venturing to any of the other taverns.
Ryder took a sip of the ale with a small smirk on his face. His day had been dull, with a small bit of work done - primarily escorting a scrawny man through the town so he didn't get jumped. Not that he would have anyway, Ryder imagined. His 'goods' weren't of much value to anyone. Thinking of it made Ryder chuckle out loud, before taking another sip of the Ale.
"Any good work come in for me?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. Methilda shook her head, cleaning out some glasses. Truth was, there was work, and Ryder was almost sure of it. But he hadn't proven himself to anyone yet. Despite having confidence in himself, he understood that wasn't enough. He let out a quiet sigh. One day, he thought. One day he'd become the best Merc that Idalos had ever seen. One day.

Once his drink was finished, he stood up to leave. Methilda glanced back to him with a raised eyebrow, taking the silver he'd left by his drink for her. "You're leaving early, and only one Ale. You got a lady friend waiting again?" she teased. Ryder gave her a playful glare before chuckling. "Not this time, no need to be jealous. I've got some things t' be doin', is all."
Methilda nodded and gave him a slight wave as he walked out. When he left the tavern, Ryder glanced around at the people outside. A few drunkards, couple of mercs - standard. He sighed as he leaned up against the wall, waiting for a woman that was supposed to be hiring him for some kind of guarding mission. She didn't look wealthy, but she'd shown him the gold, so she must have had it.

Twenty bits passed before Ryder gave up, sighing and leaning his head back against the wall, his disgruntled face hard to miss.

[Doran]

The Broken Blade was not one of the places that one commonly expected a man that had confronted an Immortal and lived to tell the tale to visit. There was nothing grand about the tavern or its surroundings, and few of its patrons could lay claim to any heroic deeds such as the one that Doran had committed. The son of Ziell had never cared about people’s expectations though. There was something about the Broken Blade with its mixture of bounty hunters and mercenaries that were never far from a fight that spoke to him, to that part of him that had not existed prior to the trial that Syroa had come to him and marked him.

In the past he had often come to the Broken Blade to conduct business with people that would likely find Vuda’s disapproval, but that particular trial neither Noth nor any of his other associates would be waiting for him. Instead the Mortalborn intended to simply drink a glass of wine – he did not often allow himself to go somewhere just to do that – and, perhaps, talk to Methilda herself and see if she would be amenable to working with him.

The proprietor of the Broken Blade was rumored to have been a fierce and fearless warrior in her youth.

When he was in the Tower, surrounded by those that ruled the city, Doran was often garbed in fine suits, as if he were of noble birth rather than one of Ziell’s many bastards, but here, outside the city gates where the poorer people lived, such a thing would seem out of place, and thus he was dressed in comparatively plain clothes. He still carried his sword with him though, a necessity when people wanted you dead because you had tried to kill one of their deities.

Another man would have grown paranoid, another man would have lived in constant fear and suspected everybody of being an assassin, but the Mortalborn considered fear to be a waste of time and counter-productive besides. He held himself straight as he approached the door, as if he had the situation completely under control, although he did briefly check his surroundings as he walked up to the door. As he did so, his gaze met that of the young man that was leaning against the wall for a trill, and he raised an eyebrow, as if he were wondering about him, as if, perhaps, he was surprised to see him there.

A moment later he abruptly pulled his gaze away again though, pushed the door open and stepped inside.

[Ryder]

Stood up, again, Ryder's thoughts were rushing. He wasn't a total asshole, but he had to make money somehow. Maybe he could keep an eye out for the girl and confront her? Or mug her? No, mugging wasn't his style. He let out a small sigh as he glanced around at the surrounding area. It was cold, very cold. Nothing seemed particularly out of place though. Except for one thing.
Ryder had never seen the man before, or at least not down here. Perhaps he just wasn't massively observant, it wasn't unlikely. He didn't make a habit of looking out for specific people unless it was someone he could fight, a business partner or a woman he could keep company for the evening. With that in mind, Ryder noticed the man's sword. A small grin spread across his face as the man walked in to the tavern, keeping his head low.

Ryder looked to the door and considered for a moment. Perhaps a mercenary of some kind, he wondered. Although, carrying a weapon wasn't entirely uncommon. But that man had confidence, he had posture. That meant he was either powerful or stupid, Ryder thought, and either made for a good business partner. With that thought, he walked in to the tavern and subtly looked for the man. After finding him a few trills later, he made an approach. Not direct towards him, but to his side, making sure his hands were clearly nowhere near any weapons.
Ryder leaned beside the man, not making eye contact. He tried to avoid looking too shadey, if this man was even remotely competent with that sword, one wrong move could mean Ryder's life. But he'd done this before. His body was relaxed, nothing tense about it, and his smile was friendly.

"That's a nice sword. I've been meanin' to get myself one" Ryder finally spoke. Truth was, he had one at home. But he rarely brought it out with him. Unless he was on a job that required him to fight a large amount of people, or one that was particularly dangerous, he much preferred the speed that his fists and daggers gave him. His hands were kept in front of him, knowing that if the man turned aggressive he still had his concealed wrist blade, but also showing that he meant no harm to the man.
"Ryder, by the way" he offered his hand to the man to shake, the hand without the blade in the sleeve.

[Doran]

After he had let Methilda know that he wished to talk to her once she was off work, the Mortalborn took a seat at an empty table. His back was facing the wall so that nobody would be able to approach him from behind, again a necessary safety measure. It was completely straight – he never slouched, not even when he was alone, in his apartment in the Tower – but he had taken his coat off and draped it across the back of his chair, and the expression on his face was a hint softer than it normally was, both signs that he was relaxed, to some extent at least.

In front of him was a glass with fine red wine that he occasionally drank from while he studied the people around him and wondered about them, who they were, what they wanted from life, whether they might be of use to him and whether they were aware that there was a war going on right in front of their eyes that would change the face of Idalos inevitably and irrevocably.

He had noticed the young man that had been leaning against the wall before approaching him of course, but he chose to pretend that he had not and simply watched him out of the corner of his eye, waited and wondered what he wanted from him and whether he was just another adoring and somewhat annoying fan - or possibly something more. He did not have the look of a seasoned warrior, he thought, but then again, appearances could be deceiving.

As Ryder complimented him on his sword, the Mortalborn raised an eyebrow before he inclined his head slightly, thus letting him know that he accepted and appreciated his words – he was in an unusually favourable mood that trial - and then he asked, “Do you wish to take up the profession of a warrior then – or are you simply a man that wants to be able to defend himself?”

“Doran”, he introduced himself, briefly wondering if Ryder would recognize his name - although he was not one of those men that were offended if the one they were talking to did not – there were advantages to both being recognized and not being recognized - and then he shook his hand nearly without hesitation and gestured for him to take a seat.

He did not normally invite strangers to sit at his table so readily. Ryder seemed to possess at least a modicum of common sense though, judging by his desire to acquire a sword – something that many mortals did not - and thus he had come to the conclusion that talking to him could, possibly, be worthwhile.

[Ryder]

Ryder glanced at the man as he asked if he wanted to become a warrior or wanted to defend himself, and pondered for a moment. Which was he?
Before answering, he gave a small nod to Methilda, offering her two silver. Ryder hoped Methilda knew him well enough to know that meant a glass of Ale, and a few trills later the Ale was being poured and brought to his table.
"Somewhere between, I s'pose" Ryder shrugged, taking the drink with a small smile to Methilda. He took a sip of it and lowered it back to the table, savoring the taste. His mood was improving from the sour one it had been earlier, thanks to the prospect of a potential business partner and a glass of ale. Both meant good news for Ryder.
"I'm a Mercenary, as most people are in 'ere" Ryder admitted. He had nothing to hide as far as he was concerned. Being a Mercenary wasn't the most reputable of jobs, but people had to do it, and it was what he was good at. It wasn't a life he wanted to hide. If anything, the more people that knew he was a Mercenary, the better. Meant more people knew who to hire.

Ryder pondered the name for a second. He'd heard it, somewhere, but just whispers. Ryder wasn't one to listen to the rumors he heard unless he had solid evidence, and he didn't even know what this man had done, just that the name had been heard. Quizzically, Ryder glanced to the man, but he did no more than that. Ryder then took a seat as gestured, giving a friendly smile to the man.
"So, you 'ere for work?" Ryder asked, genuinely curious. Most people were, so it wasn't a question that would seem out of place, Ryder thought. Besides, it was information he wanted to know. If this man worked as a Mercenary, that might mean work for Ryder as well, and Ryder was always looking for that. Where there was work, there was money. Money meant more gear. More gear meant better work, and so the cycle continued.

The Marked of Delroth finished off his drink and then gave a small sigh. He sent an image out to Rocky of the girl that should have hired him, thinking for the raven to find her and show him where she was. He wasn't one to be backstabbed, nor to take it lightly, and although most would see this as minor - she'd fucked with Ryder's living. He'd get his money, though. One way or another.
While Rocky went on the search, Ryder sat back in the table, mentally examining the man before him. He was curious about this man, as he was about most people. But something was different. It was the confidence, Ryder thought. Not many people possessed it to the same degree. It was the back against the wall, as well, and a blade with him.

Ryder was dying to know more.

[Doran]

“I see“, Doran replied as Ryder revealed that he was a mercenary. He did not look down on the man because of his choice of job. He did not care if people sold their sword to the highest bidder, if they killed or stole or generally did something that was morally wrong as long as they did not pick him as their victim. He had occasionally taken a life himself and planned to take more before everything was over, besides, he appreciated honesty – it was an exceedingly rare trait among mortals in that trial and age.

What did irritate him in light of that new piece of information was Ryder’s comment about how he had been meaning to get himself a sword though. As a mercenary he should already be owning one and be fairly competent with it besides – or at least be familiar with a different kind of weapon. He looked at him, furrowed his brow barely noticeably, wondering if talking to him would turn out to be a waste of time after all and took a sip from his glass. Finally he asked - because he was in a good mood and in favour of giving people a second chance that trial, “I assume that you have at least some measure of combat training then? What is your weapon of choice, if I may ask?”

“If that is your way of asking whether I’m a mercenary as well”, he replied to Ryder’s question. While the mortal gave him a friendly smile, the expression on his face was as serious as ever. “No, I’m not, at least not normally, although I have a fair amount of combat experience. I’ve merely come here to drink a glass of wine and have a few words with Methilda to see if she might be interested in an alliance of sorts or an exchange of knowledge”, he admitted. He saw no harm in revealing that, although there were a number of things that he would never tell a stranger.

“And you? Did you manage to land a job?” he asked for the sake of politeness and leaned back in his chair. As he noticed how Ryder was examining him, he raised an eyebrow. It seemed to him as if the mortal were wondering about something, but hesitant to ask – an attitude that, he had to admit, was getting on his nerves a bit. He looked directly at him and informed him in a cool tone, “If there is something that you want to know, by all means ask.”

[Ryder]

Ryder gave a small nod when asked about the weapons of choice. He should have seen that one coming, he walked right in to it. In truth, he had a longsword, he just rarely used it. But it wasn't a total lie that he had been looking to get one. His one wasn't the best of blades, and the best of blades is what Ryder was after. Soon, he hoped, he would have it.
"Ask you may, and if you class experience as trainin' then yeah, I'm fairly well trained" Ryder chuckled. He drew his dagger and put it slowly on the table, showing it to the man with pride. It was the most valuable weapon he had, a masterpiece of a blade, and one he was very fond of. He then removed his knuckle dusters from his pocket and showed them, before putting them back. "Just small things like that" Ryder nodded, taking the dagger back in to it's sheath, unless the man took it to observe it.

Ryder gave an understanding nod when the man said he wasn't a mercenary. What caught his attention was the not 'normally'. Ryder had guessed right about the man, he knew how to use that sword. His confidence was a giveaway, but this confirmed it. Perhaps one day Ryder could learn a thing or two, assuming he wasn't already better than the man. Another thing that caught his interest was that he was looking for an alliance, with Methilda of all people, but he put that thought to the back of his head for the time being.
"I did, originally. But she didn't show" Ryder admitted, his frustration obvious. "But the night is still young, perhaps I'll find somethin' exciting crop up. Bar like this, chances are there'll be something" he smiled a little, trying to shake his frustration. It was understandable he was annoyed, but he wasn't going to let it get to him too much. Not yet. He would suppress the aggression until Rocky came back with news of where the girl was. That was when he could let himself get angry.

As insensitive as he could be, Ryder knew when someone was at a line. The way Doran told him that he could ask meant he knew that Ryder was curious about something. Ryder pondered for a few trills, expression blank as he met the mans gaze. He had a chance to ask anything now, but he had to ponder if this man was someone he would want to work with. He easily could be, especially with the skill he claimed to have. But it was evident that their personalities were slightly different, and somewhat collided.
After a few trills, Ryder chuckled and leaned back, making himself comfortable. "Your name just seemed familiar, is all. Was tryin' to work out if we'd met before" Ryder lied. He'd heard the name Doran, but he tried to avoid listening to whispers. Besides, he was sure that more than one man in Etzos had such a name. In truth, he didn't know what to ask. As curious as he was about the man, he didn't feel it was his place.

[Doran]

“Experience is just as valuable as training, perhaps even more so“, the Mortalborn replied as he heard Ryder’s words and looked at the dagger he had put on the table. “May I?” he asked before he took it in his hand, inspected it from all angles and nodded approvingly. He did not say anything though, but quietly wondered if he should challenge Ryder to a duel to find out just how experienced he was. But no, he would not degrade another hapless mortal that trial, besides, he didn’t want to stain the floor of Methilda’s tavern with fresh blood. It looked as if it had been cleaned only recently.

“Most likely”, he remarked as Ryder talked about his chances of finding another job that night. “And if you turn out not to have any luck, there are other places where you’ll be able to find work.” There would likely come a time when he would need a few men by his side, but he was not the kind of man that offered a stranger a job, especially if he hadn’t verified the extent of said stranger’s skills yet. He’d just watch him, for now.

“I doubt it”, he replied curtly and somewhat coolly as Ryder admitted to wondering if they had met before, and then he decided to elaborate, “I would have remembered your face. You might have seen the plays about me though or heard somebody talk about me and my arrival in Etzos and Xiur’s attempts to get your people to betray me.”

He didn’t say more than that, but sat there quietly and gave Ryder the opportunity to come to his own conclusions instead – if he was clever enough to do so. He was not the kind of man that grinned all over his face and informed those around him that he was the Hero of Oscillus and that they should start admiring him now if they valued their lives.

[Ryder]

Ryder gave the man a nod when he took the dagger in his hands, a small smirk on his face. His dagger for a long time had been his most valued weapon, and was made with a lot of care. Materialistic things were what made Ryder's world go round, so having a dagger like that was something he couldn't deny felt incredibly good. When he had the blade back, he'd put it in it's sheath.
Ryder nodded when he was told there were other places he could find work. Truth be told, he never ventured much further than here, but he was almost certain that there would be plenty of work to be done inside a city like this. It was a place of turmoil and despair. Hell, if he was lucky, people would try to mug him. That would mean free money for him, and a chance to get his blade dirty. But for now, he would wait by the tavern. It was warmer here, and the drinks were pleasant.

When the man doubted that they met, Ryder tried to remember the stories he'd heard. Whispers at best, of a man fighting against Xiur. Ryder never paid much attention to them, and this story had been no exception. In truth, Ryder knew little of Xiur at all, so the idea that a man fought against him in a city like this was not at all surprising. Chances were, the story was a folk tale to keep kids from worshiping immortals, or a story made to rally public support. But this man seemed to think it would have adverse effects, and that he was the villain of the story.
"Well" Ryder started, having paused for a few trills before speaking. He then raised his glass a little. "Let's be grateful that Xiur's attempts haven't worked. Never liked the prick anyway" he smirked, clearly meaning every word he said. Ryder had care for one immortal as of now, and that immortal and Xiur were entirely different.

After finishing his drink in the man's name, Ryder stood himself up, collecting his stuff and giving a small smile to the man. As much fun as he was having talking, work wouldn't find him - he had to find it. Before leaving, however, he extended his hand to the man with a genuine smile. Perhaps these two would cross paths again, and if this man was worth whispering about, then should they meet in the future he would rather it be on good terms.
"It's been a pleasure. Perhaps we'll cross again some time. But for now, I ought to look for some way to earn back all the gold I spend on drink in here" Ryder chuckled. Whether the man shook his hand or not, he'd now retract it and give him one last nod, before turning to the door and leaving. As he walked outside, Rocky landed on the roof above him. He glanced up at the bird, nodding his head, causing the bird to take off.

A flash appeared in his head, and he saw Rocky's view, the girl that was supposed to give him work heading the entirely opposite way with a man. Ryder felt a surge of anger flow through him. "There you are."

[Pegasus]

I really enjoyed this thread! It did seem to end a little abruptly, but that kind of fitted the pcs, at the same time. Ryder is an interesting character, well written and I love how he recognises that he's still new and stuff isn't being given to him. Then there's Doran - and he's just this totally cool guy. I can actually see the two of them getting on really well and I hope to read more stuff that the two of you write together! Enjoy your rewards and drop me a pm if you feel I've missed anything!

Ryder

Points

XP:15

Renown: NA

Loot

Knowledge

Acting: Lying to someones face
Acting; Saying what someone wants to hear
Discipline: Being stood up
Discipline: Keeping cool under pressure
Intelligence: Using Rocky to track someone down
Intelligence: Asking questions to get to know someone
Intelligence: Trying to read posture
Intelligence: Noticing someones weapons

Doran

Points

XP:15

Renown: NA

Loot

Knowledge

Politics: The importance of looking for allies
Intelligence: Observing your surroundings
Intelligence: Asking questions in order to find out more about somebody
Interrogation: Sometimes you need to be direct
Stealth: The right clothes let you blend in with your surroundings

Ryder: Mercenary
Ryder: Wants to get a sword