• Memory • A Night In Almund

Sybil

Almund is a thriving township with a dark side. With houses made from the wooden bodies of decommissioned ships, there are many opportunities here, coupled with many dangers.

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Ricky
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A Night In Almund

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Ashan 88 717


Enrick and the boys had all finished their usual routine down at the docks of Almund, and resigned to spend the rest of their evening playing The Four as it were. "C'mon Enrick, y' know ya ain't got anythin' worth holdin' on t'!" One of the other three fisherman at the table snickered as they all looked at their cards, as it turned out though they weren't too far off from wrong when it came to this hand. Enrick couldn't help but grin though when he drew that sixth card back, the exchange being a third of the Artisan's Suite when he finally added it to the deck with a glimmer of aqua in his eyes.

"We'll see won't we boys, Oi just got a Fringe!" At the declaration the others were naturally distraught in their own way, their bets on the table close to being his now that he'd just declared that.

"Aye dat's bullshit!! I'm callin' yer bluff onto dat!!" Another demanded as the other two started to chuckle, since he'd been the unluckiest of tonight's games so far. Enrick himself had lost quite a few but won a couple, enough to make up for his own losses thankfully but now... Well now it started to look like lady luck was in his favor.

"Yeah? It's yer turn anyways mate, go on an' guess what y' can swipe." He challenged as he held his deck in one sole hand, the other two a little entertained at his sudden new confidence.

"Fek dat i'm guessin' yer Suite!" He stated almost cockily as the half-breed looked to him amused. "Betch'a there's nearly a full set o' Kingdom!"

Enrick spreaded out his cards once more to look a little uncertain while the aquatic hues merged with a bit of violet. When he finished he sighed and laid down the deck, the other fisherman displaying a bit of mixed reactions until he answered the claim. "Boys. Oi hate t' say it but he's out." He admitted with a modest grin, as the other two broke into laughter while the loser yet again had to give up his hand. "T'night's just not y' night mate." He called as the losing fisherman placed all his cards in the Discard pile.

"Oy, Enrick. Got tha King on ya?" The next one inquired as he made his turn a little obvious.

"Oi might," he answered in turn, "whatcha got fer me t'ough?"

"How 'bout tha Pirate?" Enrick's eyebrows folded just a little but nonetheless he still grinned, since he was still one card away from winning the game at least.

"Sure." He agreed with a shrug as he slipped the card in question out, and exchanged it for the other card offered for him.

"I'm gonna pass this time 'round." The next one chose as he focused on Enrick next. "Got my eye on you sir!"

"Better watch closely, or else Oi might win next round." He warned as Enrick, in that turn, discarded the Pirate card to open a slot for the other.

"Enrick", "NPC"
Enrick's Hand
Academia: Candle
Artisans: Masoner, Shipwright, Carpenter
Kingdom: King
Immortals: Champion
word count: 548
"Every side attacks ya, when y' don't take sides."


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Sybil Malach
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Re: A Night In Almund

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Among the gathering men and women, there was a certain lass that seemed to almost stand out, with just how much of a foreigner they appeared to be. As any place knows, there's always a tell, always a dead giveaway to one.

In Sybil's case, this was the fact that the student was dead pale. Flesh unkissed by the sun, it was obvious that the young filly wasn't from the strange climes of the island nation. Sybil's skin seemed to bring with it a level of frost, with how bereft of color it was. Like many from the Videnese area, their tones were washed out by the lack of sun throughout the seasons. Something that was particularly obvious from the exchange between the Academy, and Scalvoris's satellite campus of it. It was somewhat easy for anyone who's in the game of conning or even just plain perceptive, to notice the origins of anyone that seemed to be strange, from that area of Idalos itself.

Though Sybil was flitting back and forth between the players at Enrick's table. Curiosity striking the student every step of the way, as they tried to listen to the fishermen try and explain the game to them.

It was a bit awkward, having what was essentially having such a young co-ed standing over one's shoulder. Fresh faced, hair braided back, and still wearing the Academy's uniform for one program or the other. The cloak seemed to be an odd choice, given that it was Ashan, but however it was that Sybil managed to power through the discomfort of the heat with this cloak on, it seemed to be working. The distant laughing and chattering of the bar more or less seemed to be a backdrop for the setting. A game among friends, after work. Among those that would see their day's work spent in the company of drinking partners, and fellow gamblers. This small gathering, was reasonably the focus of the student.

Simply put, it had much less risk, much less edge, than those that seemed to surround.

Leaning over Enrick's shoulder, Sybil seemed a bit confused at the configuration of cards in his hand. Blinking blankly, it just didn't make much sense to the student. Viden gave the creative, enjoyable world a level of mystique about it. A simple game of cards seemed to bring with it a level of intrigue. The bartering of cards between patrons, the bluffing. It was things that Sybil could readily read off of people, but it wasn't something that they could fully understand on how to employ. A case of always on the other side of the glass, watching in, rather than being able to participate. The student was an awful liar, and not particularly glib. It was just their personality.

"... Are you happy with this hand?" Sybil asks of him. Eyes glancing to the side, curiously, towards Enrick. The student's large braid hanging low, over the man's shoulder.
 ! Message from: Sybil Malach
Sybil at this age is capable of detecting middling deceptions and surface intent. It is a possibility to use Sybil's high psychology skill to his advantage, should he make a good impression, or have a smooth enough glib about him.

Please provide certain tells, regarding his friends, and bold what it is that you wish for options for Sybil to be able to snitch about, if he wants to get an upper hand in the game. Please keep in mind, this is highly depending on Enrick's ability to handle socializing.
word count: 602
"No mass graves."

-Vri 720, scolding Sybil for disposing of necromancers.

NPCs: Karlsson, Margaret
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Ricky
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Re: A Night In Almund

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The other men didn't really seem too bothered about Enrick having a little shadow, albeit mostly because one of them made a bet he couldn't win. Since the girl was obviously a tourist from somewhere else, the bet was inclined to provide the foreigner with a lesson on 'lovemaking' while she was here. But of course that poor bastard just lost another hand during that last turn, and already forgotten the bet long since his frustrating losing streak started. Enrick though honestly felt a little at odds about the stranger, not because she chose to shadow him honestly; just more or less the fact it drew more attention to him along the way. "Well, s'far as dat goes aye." He remarked as the other seemed to pay a little more attention, hoping he might slip up since the girl obviously made for easy distraction.

"Alright, I'm gonna discard." The fisherman across from him admitted as he placed a card in the pile, making the one sitting to his left next as he looked at his deck.

"Looks like I'm drawin." He mused as he took a card out of the pile sure enough, Enrick looked hard at his deck and wondered what he should do next. He could either negotiate for another card and risk giving away his Suite, or easily discard one of the six he had now before...

"Oy!" The fisherman at his right who'd already lost pointed a rough finger across from him, his fuzzy eyebrows furrowed as he leaned onto the table a little. "I saw dat! Y' got two cards from de pile now!"

"Wha? Y' right mad mate! Ain't no extra card in m' hand!" The accused said as he flashed all six cards in his hand, without revealing what their faces were of course.

"Bullshit! I saw ya!" The loser demanded as he rose from his chair in a slow infuriated state, the fisherman across from Enrick a little miffed but also curious now that he didn't pay attention. Enrick was too but he more so laid his deck face down, with a hand used to warn the foreigner behind him to back up just a little. Arguments like this weren't uncommon to be sure but one thing for certain, they almost always escalated quicker than anybody could anticipate. And right then and there as the accused tried to once again deny immediately, the fisherman across from Enrick reached at his arm with a hard tug at the sleeve. In turn not just one but two cards managed to slip out the wrist cuff of his shirt, one of them being the last card that Enrick would have needed to win the match. Not that it mattered anymore.

"Cheatin' bastard!" The loser fisherman declared as he threw his hands under the table, the other fisherman and Enrick quick to pull back away as it was tilted towards the guilty party. "I knew somethin' was up! Gimme back m' money ya shit!" It quickly became a fight or flight response as there were those nearby, men who always either liked to watch a bar fight happen or even join in if they wanted. Enrick though watched the lot with bronze filled eyes, his arm still held out to attempt safeguarding the girl behind him almost instinctively.

"Keep back lass, t'is fights 'bout t' get ugly." He warned as already the first punch had been thrown, the two fisherman quickly caught in their scuffle as the third tried to break it apart. That is until a shove and loosely directed punch both hit him amidst the quarreling to, resulting in that poor bastard losing his cool and wailing on whichever got caught in his path.

"Enrick", "NPC"
word count: 632
"Every side attacks ya, when y' don't take sides."


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Sybil Malach
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Posts: 1438
Joined: Sun Feb 03, 2019 9:36 pm
Race: Human
Profession: Ignoble Thanatologist
Renown: 300
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Re: A Night In Almund

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The card game quickly went awry.

Before Sybil could even think to start plying their trade, the fishermen that came with the person whose shoulders they leaned over began to quarrel. Their eyes went half lidded. It seemed that the idiocy of man was something that transcended drunkenness. Letting out a breath, they were already taking a step back from Ricky when things started to hit the fan. The accusations turned into denial. Denial stoked the flames of the interaction into a blistering heat that seemed to completely sear the atmosphere of this place itself.

What was Sybil to do? Fight? The notion was hilarious, within. It was as like telling a layman to conduct surgery. They let the men do their deeds as though they were professionals in the field of fighting and deciding justice.

But Sybil had no point in being here.

Taking a step back, the student simply allowed the fight to unfold. Eyes glancing to the patrons that had turned their eyes to the spectacle that was unfolding before them. Back in Viden, Sybil was one of these people. Those that weren't involved, and simply found entertainment in the quarreling of others. They could see it in the average person's eyes. The clicks of their boots slowly took them to the far side of the wall. Eyes slowly glancing across the crowd, there had to have been something to do, during all this. They had seen enough fights in the Devil's Advocate.


But there was something that they knew would happen, during fights like these. Eyes slowly glancing to the side, their calm pulse remaining steady. There were men and women who would conduct trade of certain sorts, when the attention was off of them. And this, is where Sybil had the advantage. A calm mind in the face of adrenaline. An attention that could easily shift from what the foreground of thought was, to the background. Their eyes began to shift between the men and women. The commoners.

They focused on the people, first. Nearest to the back.

A woman was coughing into something that looked like a handkerchief, but was in actuality something more akin to a rag. The student didn't see anything strange about her. Her attention was here. To the side, there was someone else. A slow tilt of the head is given. He was staring off, to somewhere that wasn't towards what was happening. His attention was completely distracted by something else entirely. Their eyes slowly blinked, tracing his eyes. They weren't stealthy about this in the slightest.

But, their eyes followed what had become a scowl, towards someone else. Confused, their eyes finally landed on a teen, more of a slip of a person than anything else, reaching into someone's pocket. It would normally have gone unnoticed, unless...

... Sybil was young. Drawn to chaos like a moth to a flame.

"Ay! Cutpurse!" Sybil shouted.


It took barely even a heartbeat for the urchin to get decked across the face by a man nearly twice his size. The woman that the balding man was sitting with raised her voice, crying out the name, "Robert!" Shocked that he'd do something like that to someone barely even half his age.

The scowling man was fuming, he pushed himself out of his chair. His legs stumbling from a mixture of drink, and perhaps some sort of scarred wound. He was stomping his way towards Sybil.

The issue was, the Enrick and his friends were separating the two. And they were starting to get into a tussle. Needless to say... That scowl was nearly knocked off his face, when he placed a hand on the cheater's shoulder, trying to get him to move from his position, so he could close in on the snitch. The place was starting to descend into chaos, like a domino effect.

Blood streamed down his nose, bent crookedly to the side. His ire shifting.

As Enrick kept his arm held out, Sybil remained against the wall, trying to put as much distance between them, and the storm of violence that was beginning to unfold.
word count: 693
"No mass graves."

-Vri 720, scolding Sybil for disposing of necromancers.

NPCs: Karlsson, Margaret
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Strange
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Re: A Night In Almund


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Thread Review

Sybil

Sybil Malach
Skill Points: +15 (cannot be used for magic)
Magic XP: None.

Renown: +5 (newcomer in an Almund barfight)

Injuries/Overstepping: None.
Wealth Points: None.
Loot: None.

Skill Knowledge:
  • none requested.
Non-Skill Knowledge:
  • none requested.
Notes: If you'd like to request 6 skill knowledge, I'd be happy to award 3 detection and 3 psychology.
Skills Used: Detection: Noticing a drunken deception; Psychology: Reading a room
Skill Review: Appropriate to level.
Player Word Count: 1309 words.

Ricky

Ricky
Skill Points: +15 (cannot be used for magic)
Magic XP: None.

Renown: +5

Injuries/Overstepping: None.
Wealth Points: None.
Loot: None.

Skill Knowledge:
  • none requested.
Non-Skill Knowledge:
  • none requested.
Notes: n/a
Skills Used: n/a
Skill Review: n/a
Player Word Count: 1194 words.

For being abandoned, this had a strong premise to it and it would have been interesting to see where it would have gone. It was something to see Sybil away from Viden and I remember when I read this while it was going on, so it's unfortunate that it never really took off as a thread. Though maybe it's better for the poor NPCs, before they got too beat up. I liked the technical inclusion of Sybil's skills in the past, rather than relying on their current skills.

Enjoy your rewards!

PM me if you have any questions, issues or concerns.

Total Word Count: 2503 words.
Review Request Link: viewtopic.php?p=136535#p136535
stampcodehere

word count: 248
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