The Nightblade Chronicles I

[Patrick]

Ashan 23 719

Patrick was tall but the assholes that dragged him by his arms had to be bigger, from the feel of their grips at his biceps they felt like giants. Comparatively Lotharro of men as he felt the points of his boots brush against cold hard stone, the vision of his eyes hindered by what had to be some kind of sack over his face. It looked relatively dark save for the set of wall braziers they'd come to pass, until finally the two that dragged him stopped and pulled him aside into a room.

"The fuck is this?"

Hard as it was to see what exactly they walked him into he felt large hands push and shove at him, as he'd been made to turn towards one of his captors as he removed the bag. He looked to be a dark and hairless giant with crooked teeth and platemail for armor, while the other he failed to get a look at shoved him aside towards a chair and a table. An interrogation room?

Patrick fell hard into his chair and looked to find the garb he donned seemed to be leather armor, it's quality finer than his own with the design clearly unique in it's own way. It covered the outer parts of his limbs mostly but the underside of his arms were still exposed, and there appeared to be buckles and clasps used to keep pieces snapped together. Truly it was a much different attire than what he was accustomed to, and surprisingly comfy enough to where he considered getting some custom made in the waking world.

The Rharnian looked from the table across the room, where a broad much shorter than the two men awaited him. She too wore platemail which could only mean they were part of a guard or something, though he hadn't the slightest idea as to what per say. "I've had gentler invitations." He remarked with a soft smirk as he sank back into the seat, almost comfortable even if the setting didn't seem so appealing. From what he could tell this was an interrogation room, so he shouldn't expect any cruel and unusual torture at the moment.

"My name is Valarie Kasander, do you remember that name?" The blonde broad remarked coldly as she approached with a book in her arm.

"Can't say I do, I never forget a face that pretty." His comment warranted a scoff from the woman.

"They said you were a talker..." She then drew close with the book tossed his way, a recently published novel as the rich brown leather seemed fresh. "That should make this easier then." Her cold stare led Patrick to inspect and observe the book, the first page filled with an elegantly written title known as "The Nightblade" in the prettiest form of calligraphy. "Tell me about the champion known as Nightblade within this book."

Patrick skimmed through the first page curiously as he hadn't the slightest clue as to who or what this Nightblade character really was. From the context of what he read it seemed that the hero was a dashing and handsome rogue, living the life of a vigilante beyond sundown as he wreaked havoc on his enemies. Already he liked the sound of this hero, but then again this was just a dream and nothing concrete seemed real enough to prove. Plus... how on Idalos would he know anything about this Nightblade figure? "Nightblade!" He read aloud with his tone still curious. "Patron saint of rebels and revelry, champion of the drunks and the stupid, enemy towards the nobility for his credible actions." What actions though?

Patrick could only lean back in his chair once more with the book left open, his hazel eyes upon Valarie as he shrugged towards her. "Never heard of him." She didn't seem so pleased... Her arm reached to her backside to pull a dagger out from her waist, the blade brought up to be jabbed down into the book before him.

"Don't lie to me! You know who Nightblade is, why else would we not drag you here; into the dungeons of Castle Black." Her threatening voice almost intimidated him, but Patrick couldn't help but chuckle just a little bit. Castle Black? He hadn't the slightest idea where that was, then again he almost forgot this was a silly dream. If that was the case though... then...

"Alright," He remarked with a smug grin and a lean onto the table, "you wanna know who Nightblade is? I'll tell you."

Things were probably about to get interesting.

"Patrick", "Follower", "Ri", "Lush", "NPC"

[Max]

A smug grin painted Valarie's face at Patrick's agreement. It faded when there came a furious pounding on the door. She pressed her lips into a hard line, staring at the Rharnian for a few moments before coming to an irritated stand. The door pounding intensified along with her frustration in the short time it took her to cross the room. When she yanked it open a man in heavy plate practically stumbled inside. He wiped the sweat from his brow, expression turning apologetic when he noticed the displeasure on his superior's face.

"Sorry, ma'am," he back-tracked, trying to get his breathing under control. "This one was a tough catch." One trill listening at the door and Valarie's confusion faded. She rolled her eyes and stormed just beyond the threshold, practically shoving the man out of her way.

There was so much shouting in the hall beyond the room holding Patrick that all the words muddled violent together, the echoes of various voices stepping over one another. When Valarie appeared again it was to practically help throw a shackled woman into the same room as the Rharnian. A small team of armored men wrestled the raven-haired newcomer into a seat beside Patrick. With the prisoner thrashing about, it was no easy task.

"Looking for someone?!" Max taunted the men and women working to ensure she was fully restrained to her seat. "You're fucking looking for someone?! I'll tell you what. Once I get out of these shackles, you'll be looking for something alright. Looking for your swords when I disarm you and sheath it up your asses!" The soldiers were quick with their work and happier to leave when it was done. They scurried out of the way, out of the room, leaving Valarie with her targets.
"Shut up!" the woman in charge snapped with a harsh gaze.
"Oh, fuck you. You and your fucking Night Bard."
"Nightblade."
"Nightbird."
"Nightblade."
"Yeah, no one cares. Now let me go, you stupid bitch."
"One more word and I'll have your tongue. I suggest you hold it."

Maxine smirked at Valarie. It was when the armored woman turned her attention back to Patrick that the marked woman realized just who she was seated beside. It seemed that he too had been taken by force by strangers.
"Hey, you," she whispered, daring to glance between him and the staring Valarie. "Long time no see. Where's your girlfriend?"
"Shut. Up!" Valarie nearly blew up while the marked woman leaned back in her seat, smiling. Their captor looked back to Patrick, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Start talking. Tell me everything you know about Nightblade. I hope for her sake you're too clever to lie." Valarie moved behind Max and wrenched her head back, much to the latter's chagrin. "Because for every lie you tell, you'll watch her pay."

[Patrick]

While it had occurred to him that whatever setting this is was only a dream, he hadn't really considered the possibility of consequences for his actions entirely. Sure he could go on about a figurative character he never really knew or met, but then what would happen if he were actually required to put word to action. What then would he do if they forced him to find this 'Nightblade' he knew nothing about?

Sure enough he wasn't so much alone anymore as they slowly started to drag in another, one who put up such a pressing resistance that Patrick would've applauded her... and then naturally came the reveal of just who she was. Magnificent. Who would've guessed he would've seen her, of all the people in Idalos, within one of the more stranger of dreams he'd fallen into. "Well hello Fury." He mused with a smirk just as the Commander present insisted on the investigation. But of course Maxine took a few times to get the name right, as to whether she meant it in the form of mockery; well not even Patrick could detect that sort of sarcasm.

Nevertheless he always enjoyed seeing Fury when chances came about, yet the nature in which they were both dragged here proved even more curious. Did she know anything of this Nightblade too? Highly doubtful. She didn't seem the least bit intrigued by it, since the character seemed nothing more than just that; a character woven from some grand tale. Finally she took to greet him and he couldn't help but grin widely in amusement, even more mystified by the fact she remembered him well enough. Then again Syroa always knew how to make a memorable impression, and that certainly had been quite a memorable night at the table.

"Didn't last, bitch was too clingy anyways." At that moment Valarie interrupted the conversation, with the expected treatment of threats used by a knife to the throat trick. Oh did Patrick want to laugh at that for some reason, probably because he felt the situation far to cliche. Then again he'd dealt with people far worse than her, and he could bet Fury herself dealt with far worse after where she had been. But the chance to actually do whatever together... to just get away with whatever the fuck they wanted? The opportunity here was too good to pass up... So the first order of business was getting out of this place, mainly out of Sister Chasity's clutches and her black castle or whatever it was.

"I'm waiting!!" Valarie barked as she gave a jerk at Maxine's hair.

"Whoa, careful now. Fury likes it when she's handled roughly by a dom," the comment made the commander growl bitterly, "Alright alright! Give me a moment to consider where to begin at least." Patrick noticed her snarl lessened to a frown but the red in her cheeks lingered, and with his eyes shot to Maxine's he briefly shot a wink to her in turn. Where to begin though? He had to say something... come up with the best possible way to distract the bitch. "As the tales do tell Nightblade is a champion of the people, a patron of revelry and stupidity, and a rebel against any sort of order in the world." While he'd been lost in contemplation of those statements he reiterated, as he practically stalled for the hell of it, it then dawned on him that all of those things...

Were interestingly in heavy alignment with what he conformed to. Patrick did hate authority after all but never really acted out against it, not unless it truly fell within his own best interests. The rest was all self explanatory no less given his background, yet he never once considered himself a champion of the people. However... "I know that already, now tell me who he is and where I can find him!"

Suddenly the contemplative stare brightened to a devious grin. "Well the problem is you're looking in the wrong places already!" He tested as Valarie looked at him a little surprised, her entire face reddened as she clearly grew agitated with the run around. "Probably because the reality of the situation is," He chuckled at the word reality, "that I'm in fact Nightblade."


Somewhere nearby a cricket just died.

"Patrick", "Follower", "Ri", "Lush", "NPC"

[Max]

Maxine's grin broadened at Patrick's mockery. It seemed she'd found a kindred spirit after all. Torture and interrogation was what they faced, and he too downplayed it. While she spat fire and cheap shots, he returned with even charm. It appeared only a significant harm would be enough to so much as crack their outward facades. The question was whether Valarie had the ability to deal it.

"He's half right," the ex-convict played off Patrick's taunt, cringing at the tug at her roots. "Usually I'm the dom." Of course that earned a harder pull. The Rharnian back-tracked toward something more likened to an answer. She felt Valarie's grasp loosen with satisfaction. Both women were fixated on him now with eager eyes. Max didn't even taint the silence he took to think for fear it would derail a precious thought. She did catch the wink though, and in return he'd spy the shine of interest in her gaze. Then the story came.

Revelry, stupidity, and rebellion. Just my type of guy.

Neither Valarie or Max broke the silence he created for dramatic effect. Rather they both seemed to almost lean in with intrigue. When it persisted too long and patience ran short, Valarie knew her moment to urge him on had come. Max felt the fingers curl in her hair and sighed, preparing herself for another irritating yank. At least the interrogator was asking the right questions. That much, she noted, the woman couldn't be faulted for.

Max tilted her head at the revelation Patrick offered toward the search for Nightblade. Those looking had been doing so in all the wrong places. They'd all been wasting their time in this hunt for one man. She could practically feel the confusion of the woman holding her hair. There was no need to see her face. The ex-convict wore the same expression of perplexity. Then the Rharnian offered his confession.

He...he's Nightblade?

"What?!" Max exclaimed her shock at the same time Valarie did, the pair parroting each other. The two women stared at him, dumbfounded. The ex-convict turned to look at her captor. "You've got to be shitting me. Are you going to take this fucking shit off or what? Fucking Immortals!" Valarie's eyes dipped with embarrassment as she murmured her agreement, fishing for a key. After a couple moments the ex-convict was liberated of her shackles. Maxine came to a stand out of her chair, shaking her fingers through her dark hair to undo the mess Valarie had done.

"I have to admit, Rharnian," she began with a laugh and slow shake of her head. "I didn't see that coming." Max rubbed at her reddened wrists as she came to stand several feet ahead of Patrick's chair with a traitorous smirk. "But I'm guessing you didn't predict this one either, so I won't be so hard on myself." She gestured to her own freed form and tsked. "Surprise!" She grabbed her chair and pulled it up, flipping it around so she could sit with her arms across the chair's back.

"So you're the guy, huh?" Her words dripped with skepticism.
"With all due respect," Valarie interjected from behind the ex-convict with hands folded behind her back. "I was warned about him. His word alone shan't be trusted."
"Yeah?" Max turned around with a raised brow. "And what were you told of me?" Valarie let her mouth hang open dumbly, struggling for a proper reply. Maxine rolled her eyes and faced forward again. "I figured. If you're going to stay in the room, Kasander, stay quiet. Unless you have something of actual value to say." She offered Patrick a nearly apologetic look. "Sorry about her. It's hard to find good help these trials, and I wasn't allowed to pick the swords."

For a couple trills she drummed her fingers upon the chair back in thought. Her eyes searched the Rharnian head to toe, resting finally on his face. She let out a sigh and shrugged.
"I admit, when I was told they came up with a lead, I didn't think it was...you. I would've preferred catching up over drinks. But here we are." Max leaned her chin down to rest on her fingers. "So why don't you tell me why I'm getting paid to track down you, the infamous Nightblade? They're quite obsessed. It's weird."

[Patrick]

It was calculated risk he didn't expect to turn out for better or worse, yet the way it did carry itself had been far more different than he could have anticipated. Who the fuck really was Nightblade? Honestly the damned title was so mysterious, Patrick couldn't help but appreciate it even more. He certainly didn't picture himself as the image of this unusual 'hero' of the story, but there was certainly an irresistible charm he couldn't deny about it. His attempt at admitting he was this figure turned out to be a gamble, one he thought would pay off in their favor when Maxine found an opening of a sort.

However...

She shared complete and utter shock and awe just as the soldier that interrogated them, their reaction a warrant for mused wariness on Patrick's behalf as he watched the both of them. Fury seemed quite baffled with the outcome but sure enough, her order for the removal of cuffs led the Rharnian to lean deeper in his chair. Holy shit. Now that was something he didn't expect to see happen, if anything it was a masterful stroke well played on Fury's behalf. "Well, well, well. Looks like I'm not the only one with the ace up my sleeve." He remarked with a grin now that his drinking companion had been freed, with the admittance that they both had played each other for fools for a moment there.

"Well..." He thought to be a bit more upfront in regards to the name, but just as soon as he did Kasander interjected only to be scolded by her... leader? Commander? Patrick had thought the blonde in charge to begin with, but as it turned out he had been entirely wrong all along. "Oh no I understand completely, gotta work with what you got as of late." He commended with a hint of admiration in his eyes as they looked one another up and down. So here she was... Fury in her prime as she led some other life in the escapism of a dream, was she even aware of the fact she was dreaming with him? Did she too possess the same power he did when he walked from the maze?

He couldn't say for sure, he knew he didn't see her there but that didn't mean anything. It was a fucking maze after all, and he considered himself lucky to be at the end of it. "And here we are..." Patrick agreed with faintly gestured nods as he raised his feet to rest on the table. "We still probably catch up over them drinks." The Rharnian chimed with a grin as he listened to her closely, curious as to just who these 'obsessed individuals' were. "You know the funny thing is, I don't even know what's going on. But if you're getting paid to find me, I'm willing to bet somebody," he looked at the book on the table, "probably wants me dead or to pay for things I don't recall."

The Rharnian looked back to Maxine and when he did, he couldn't help but grin widely with an arm rested over the back of the chair. "Chalk it up to another one of my drunken episodes I guess."

"Patrick", "Follower", "Ri", "Lush", "NPC"

[Max]

Maxine grinned at the Rharnian. This was not the type of pleasantries a captor and a captive should've exchanged. It was too smooth. Too casual and off-the-cuff, especially for Valarie, who waited against the wall with a carefully guarded expression. The ex-convict payed the cross woman no mind. She drummed her fingers on the back of the chair she sat upon, thinking for a moment. Then, with a snap of his fingers, she coaxed Valarie's reluctant attention.

"I don't see why not," the raven-haired woman admitted easily to Patrick when he made his point. "Two cups and a bottle. Make it a stiff one."
"With all due respect," Valarie interjected, moving off the wall. "Do you think that's wi--."
"You hear the little nickname he apparently has for me?" Max cut the woman off and turned to look at the insubordinate with a dagger-like glare. "And he doesn't even know shit. Question me again. See if you like what happens next." Max rolled her head back toward Patrick as Valarie stormed out of the room, fuming but obedient. "Do I think that's fuckin' wise. For fuck's sake." Two cups and a bottle of rum were placed on the table. Max took the liberty of uncorking the bottle with her teeth and pouring them drinks. She pushed Patrick's cup toward him and placed the bottle between them.

As she took up her own cup, Max's grin returned at Patrick's musings. Problems stemming from drunken episodes. Now that was something she could relate to all too well. These trials she wasn't sure which she had more of: regrets or problems. Perhaps they were just one and the same. The least she could do was fill in the blanks.

"Nightblood," Maxine picked up somewhere near where they left off on the topic at hand. "They tell me he's some prick everybody's been chirping about like a hero. Everyone loves a good hero." She took a long drink from her cup. Not even a flinch at the burn. "Trouble is, a guy like that got too much attention. They say he stole something. Something of great value. The owners would like it back." Another drink and she set the cup down. "Some merchant in the merchant guild around here called for all this. Don't know his name. Don't care. All I know is I was promised coin. Lots of it. So, you're going to tell me where this necklace is that Nightbroad took. You get freed, I get paid. Everybody wins. What do you say?"

Maxine leaned back in her chair after filling her cup back to the brim. Her smile turned more mischievous as she raised the rum toward her lips. Valarie continued to steam in the corner. For all the coin on the line, she couldn't help herself though.

"Afterwards we get the hell out of here. Have some fun. And maybe you can cry into your cup about how Rayso dumped your ass."

[Patrick]

It truly amused Patrick to see that the woman before him had the sense of shared camaraderie with him, since they mutually found a respective hobby in the idea of drinking together. How many times would the be pouring drinks together he wondered, and how many times would it revolve around some form of business and not pleasure? Oh well. He admired the chase as well as the great game but when it came to Maxine, something easily gave off the fact she wasn't much of a player in that regard. She had her faults and her own appealing avarice to contend with, but something told Patrick that the woman was way out of his league when he thought about it.

Nevertheless he reveled in her authority when her subordinate questioned the idea, softly chuckling as he took the glass offered to him moments later. "I might not know 'shit' as you call it, but I know enough to know not to piss you off." He admitted casually still with a smirk on his face, imbibing in the rest of his drink as he didn't hesitate to guzzle it down. Good thing too otherwise he would've choked at her consistency, clearly the name Nightblade something she enjoyed making fun of at this point of the conversation. From the sound of it though this figure really pissed off the wrong guy, which is where Maxine stepped in hoping to find a means of getting what was stolen back.

"Well, the guy definitely sounds like a screw up." He admitted with a fold of his arms as he leaned back into his chair, a mindful glance shot to Valarie as she still watched him warily. The more disturbing part was the fact they wanted him to help out, when in truth he knew next to nothing about this entire situation. A complete fucking bystander at this point, dragged into it all on the mere speculation that he knew this Nightbard figure. Whoops. Suddenly it started to rub off on him... "Now that hurts," Patrick remarked as he poured himself another round, "I made it rather cleary that I'm the one who dumped her ass."

When he assured her of this he raised the cup in the form of a gestured 'cheers' before drinking from it again, the sound of her proposal not all too bad except for the fact he only walked away free. Honestly the idea supposedly had charm considering what worse things she could do, so it didn't really look as though Pat had a whole lot of choice in the matter by now. But how to turn this into his favor? Part of him felt a deep seated well of mirth hidden away, albeit something he kept hidden away with a straight casual grin as he sat the empty cup back down. "I see no reason why we can't have our fun. Chances are we can locate this 'Nightbitch' fellow"

"Nightblade." The officer in the room reminded him as she aggressively sighed.

"Right, that guy. He's obviously a fan of the people, especially the ones who drink in his name." He let that idea float around for a moment, his eyes fixed from Max to Val briefly before finishing the sentence. "Maybe by going to the nearest pub or tavern, we're likely bound to draw him out if not find someone there." The plan was foolproof by then, only Pat wasn't sure if it would really work or not. Either way it got him out of this dungeon they were in, which was already an improvement in itself when he considered it.

"Patrick", "Follower", "Ri", "Lush", "NPC"

[Max]

Patrick had bare minimum knowledge, but his admittance that he knew the firebrand was a fire best left unpoked spoke volumes above many. Most would've spat acid to find themselves in his predicament. Instead he smartly played the game rather than sour her good mood. The rum served as a reminder she rewarded good behavior. It was always so much easier when one went along with her agenda. Otherwise Valarie might have her way.

When Patrick re-iterated that he had been the one to dump Rayso, Maxine merely rolled her eyes in amusement.

Yes, Rharnian. Of course you did.

At the very least Patrick seemed on board with helping rather than hindering her assignment. She took a long drink to consider the man's proposition. It wasn't a terrible idea, ferreting the shade out by mingling with those he likely hung around. Finding an excuse to visit a tavern was never a bad plan in her mind. Maxine looked toward Valarie. Unsurprisingly, the woman vehemently shook her head with arms folded. A smirk twitched at the corners of the Rusalka's lips at that.

"Alright, Rharnian," she conceded while Valarie looked toward the ceiling for help. "A tavern among the people it is. Valarie, bring the keys."
"You can't be serious!" the soldier piped up with a bitter laugh.
"Will you believe I'm serious after I put your face through that wall you're leaned up on?" Max gestured toward the solid stone behind the woman with a growl. "Because I swear to fuck that's where it's about to go. Fucking gods. Just give me the damn keys." Valarie tossed the ring. Max reached her free hand up, snatching the clanging metal from the air. She finished her rum, set the cup down on the table, and looked toward Patrick with a slow shake of her head. "So hard to find good help these trials, you know?"

Max rounded the table to free the Rharnian against virtually everyone's better judgement besides her own. He was their suspect. Well, most had agreed that if he wasn't their target he knew more than he was letting on. As Valarie regarded the pair from across the room, she was sure the scarred ex-convict was either stupid or reckless. Frankly, she couldn't decide which. All she was certain of was that this was a mistake, though she dare not say another word. It was ridiculous, but for some reason she felt sure Max would make a serious effort of putting her head through stone. Silently, she followed the two begrudgingly straight out the doors to that damned pub.

------------------------

The tavern was of the lowest caliber. It wasn't that the drink selection was brutal or the barrels ran low. It wasn't that the kitchen smelled of over-charred scraps or the furniture was worn and cheap. Truth be told, it was the clientele. Class was a fleeting concept to be found here. Patrons were low on the social ladder and their clothes reflected that clearly. The bard's lute wasn't quite to tune and his voice squealed when his song went beyond his range. Old moose and buck heads served as wall decor and candles dripped heaps of wax onto the tables. This crowd was as common as it got, and such was the type to herald Nightblade, whoever he was, a proper hero.

"Alright, Rharnian," Max piped up jovially at the scent of spilled drinks and shitty tavern food. "The rules of the game as easy. You help me catch this clown, or at least find me a good enough lead, and you win a drunk walk home afterward as a free man. What do you say?" She propped the door to The Rut Tavern with a brow teasingly cocked in question. Either he accepted and they waltzed into the party, or he didn't. The latter would no doubt result in violence the moment she let the door swing shut. Valarie crossed her arms behind Patrick, hating every moment they strayed from protocol.

[Doran]

Max:

Knowledge:
Acting: Playing the Role of a Prisoner
Acting: Improvising Lines to Follow Your Role
Acting: Pretending to be an Ally
Acting: Breaking Character
Deception: Manipulating Someone's Emotions For You
Intimidation: Shutting Down an Insubordinate
Negotiation: Finding Common Ground
Negotiation: Presenting a Win-Win Scenario

Loot: -
Wealth: -
Injuries: -
Renown: -
Magic XP: -
Skill Review: Appropriate to level.
Points: 15

Patrick:

Knowledge:

Loot: -
Wealth: -
Injuries: -
Renown: -
Magic XP: -
Skill Review: -
Points: 15

- - -

Comments: I was a little confused when I read the first post and people suddenly started to talk about Nightblade, but then I noticed that the thread takes place in Emea, and things started to make a lot more sense. I found this thread quite entertaining. Max, your posts are always a joy to read. Patrick claiming that he was Nightblade was quite an interesting turn of events. I wished this thread would have continued as I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen next …

Enjoy your rewards!