• Graded • A Grand Hero! [Hercule]

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Nightshade Eld
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Posts: 878
Joined: Wed Aug 10, 2016 5:43 pm
Race: Mixed Race
Profession: The Best Hero
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A Grand Hero! [Hercule]

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Saun 37th, 717


The half-breed walked down the street, glancing up at the sky every now and then as her long black wings brushed lightly against the ground. The air was already starting to cool down a little, even if it was still pretty blistering outside. Vhalar was only a couple days off. Vhalar was a favorite season for the woman, she was already excited to see the slight changes in the weather as a distinct cool started to appear. Soon that cool would become a chill that would lead the leaves on the trees to turn a multitude of deep and beautiful autumn colors. The length of the season was also a great bonus. With Vhalar came tons of wild harvest, foods that could be preserved and saved for Zi'da and Cylus. But before any of this could happen, the woman had to make it through the last could of days of Saun. She regretted not bringing her cloak, her skin feeling hot under the sunlight. She'd give anything to take her mind off the weather. No, scratch that, she'd give anything to go home and get out of the weather. Her cave was blessedly cool during the hot seasons and easy to heat during the cold seasons. That of course was a blessing from the rocks that made up her cave. But she needed to keep saving up more money. She wasn't exactly sure why yet, nor did she know completely what she would do with it. The money was more so an excuse to do the jobs on the bounty board and help the people who really needed it. The more money a person was willing to drop, the harder the job, and the more people she could save by doing said job. The money was a pleasant side effect that allowed her to purchase better supplies. If she ever felt like going to a shop that was.

Unfortunately running to the bounty board had provided nothing useful. Most of the requests were tiny or already taken, that or they were the kind that didn't fit her particular skill set. Hunting for intelligence was something that wasn't exactly easy for her. As she made her way back home her attention was drawn by a certain ruckus on the side of the street. A woman was crying, begging a man who looked at her with disdain. "Please, you have to help me!" She cried in a pathetic sounding voice. She wasn't the prettiest woman in the city, but she had a 'girl next door' kind of charm to her.

"Get away! Unless you've got enough coin to make a job like that worth it, I don't want anything to do with it," the man, obviously a mercenary by the way he spoke, snapped at the poor girl and shooed her away. The woman sat on the side of the road and started to cry. People actively went out of their way to avoid her. And why? Because she was dressed in poor clothes and asking for help. She obviously didn't have the money to pay for the kind of help she was asking for considering the reaction of the mercenary. Who wanted to get involved with something like that? It was so much easier jut to walk past and ignore the situation entirely. Night's expression hardened, a glare tailing the mercenary as he walked away. It looks like today was a day for charity work.

"Excuse me, miss. What's wrong?" The half-breed asked as she kneeled down next to the woman.

The woman turned away. "It doesn't matter. It's not like anyone is going to help," she whimpered, her expression one of complete misery.

"I might," she said, trying to coax the woman into tell her what the problem was. Bandits? Thieves? Kidnappers? The problem couldn't nearly be as bad as the mercenary implied it was.
word count: 665
Common ~ Ith'Ession ~ Lorien
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Hercule Brannagh
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A Grand Hero! [Hercule]

Ah, breakfast for Milord is never quite so dull as it should be. In fact, nearly every morning, Milord finds some new thing to complain about. It's like he is a young girl, complaining and whining at her mum for not getting her a pretty new doll.

"Blast thee, vile Pond Duck! How darest thou not light in the night and find for me the most scrumptious bacon? This bacon is..." He shuddered at this point. It was a tough act to follow, that is for sure. "Good enough..." He made a face.

And then he threw it against the wall. Allow me, for a moment, to back up to the previous trial. Milord, while dining at the finest establishment that Etzos had to offer, overheard a sophisticated gentleman with a tall hat and a single glass for his left eye speaking of a smoked bacon so delicious that it has ruined all other meat for him. Not just pork, he tittered. Beef, lamb, wolf... Everything Milord loves, reduced to crumbling ash in metaphor. So, quite naturally, the Lord Hercule Brannagh, First Son of Hyrium Brannagh, Inheritor of the Brannagh Fleet and Fortune, demanded that smoked bacon for his breakfast in the morning. Only the finest could accompany his nine duck eggs and fermented milk-drink.

Except the bacon comes from a farm outside Ne'haer, in a village named Treth. So, I found myself without transportation or divine intervention, and in the morning woke to Milord screeching about smoked bacon. In the tub, as he scrubbed the filth from the outermost layer of His Rottenness, he sang a crude ditty about it. I quote,

"Oh, thine bacon is salted and smoked for trials, the fat melts right in my moooooooooooooouth. At every bite, there cometh the smiles, it's the finest bacon of in the Soooooooooouth!" He never was very good at geography. Fast forward, and the bacon hit the wall, the plate shattered, and I prostrated myself before Milord. Groveling usually abated the rage, and I got away with only a scathing glare. Which, coming from his bare penis, was intimidating.

Once he clothed, he demanded we set about the day. Leaving me alone for one bit exactly, he emerged with a brightness in his eyes and his tongue dancing under his upper lip. He acted as if I did not know about his proclivities, but I did. In fact, I'd found the Taszaa quite a few times while preparing Milord's things for travel. It often tempted me, but a knight does not partake of worldly desires.

Not a real one, anyway.

Milord's summons to meet Vuda was one he was trying his best to ignore, and he demanded something to command his attention. He needed some work, a job or a 'deed' to take his mind off the terrifying prospect of the meeting. Into the streets we went, searching for some tramp to arrest or some mage to club over the head. Milord was particularly fond of pleasing those in charge, and he'd heard rumours of the anti-magic sentiment in the city.

"They dislike mages here, Pond Duck. 'Tis our Civil Duty to subdue any we see, in the name of the Eternally Righteous Vuda." He puffed out his chest, and it wasn't until I bowed before the mightiness of the action did he moved from the spot in which he had rooted himself.

"Pondiuk." Corrected, he turned to me with a feigned look of surprise on his face.

"Your cough, Pond Duck, is getting worse. Make thee a note that should the time present itself, thyself and I shall stop upon the Order to buy a treatment. I cannot have mine noblest squire fall ill to the consumption." He hee-hawed and guffawed at his cleverness, until the Cry of a Maiden™ distracted him. In a trill of inspiration, I saw the plan formulate in his head. This was his chance.

Swaggering over to the woman, who was now being comforted by an Avriel, Lord Hercule Brannagh, the First Heir to Hyrium Brannagh, Inheritor... Well, you get the picture... Milord too stooped. Upon his face was perhaps the most convincing look of concern I'd ever seen him muster. If I did not know his shadiness, I would never have expected it to be false. But, alas, I do know him, much to my chagrin. Still, the Taszaa's ability to give him a razor's edge of focus seemed to bolster his acting in that trill.

"Fear not, milady, for the Lord Hercule Brannagh himself shall too offer to aid thee in thy plight! Hearken thine ear to mine creed, and judge for thyself my righteous intent!" He boomed next to her, startling her and the Avriel next to her. Milord's chest grew, and his face grew red with it. He was holding his breath, ensuring that the air in his lungs enhanced his physical mass. I doubt he understood exactly what he said, since he offered no creed thereafter. He simply sat that, crouched next to the woman, red in the face and unbreathing. Oh Milord.
word count: 860
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Nightshade Eld
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A Grand Hero! [Hercule]

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When Hercule appeared it was a bit of a shock to say the least, but it was one the half-avriel recovered from far quicker than the woman who gasped and turned on him, a look of fear painting her expression. Night blinked a couple times, taking in the visage of the man before her. He was... interesting to say the very least. He seemed strong, proud, and by all means knightly. The rather angry looking squire that tailed behind him helped to add to the look, as most squires tended to be disgruntle. If they weren't, then they were either going to be world renowned or die the moment they hit knighthood. Scrutinizing Hercule a little closer, he almost seemed familiar. Had she seen him somewhere before? Perhaps she'd heard of him from one of the guards? She couldn't remember exactly what had been said about him though if that was the case... As per her nature she started to look him up and down, picking him apart. He seemed strong enough to be a knight, his physique was certainly intended for it, but he didn't seem to have the stance a knight might. She knew from her own experiences once you knew how to fight well enough you always looked like you were on guard. Then again, he could always be acting like less than what he really was. If that was the case then he was formidable indeed! There was no creature more dangerous than the ones that looked friendly. At least when something looked dangerous you could see it come, but when things looked friendly. Well, you just assumed they were harmless. If he could really act so flawlessly... well, she was dealing with a trained professional in the arts of war and it was best to keep her guard up.

Despite the unsettling feeling that Nightshade was starting to get, the woman didn't seem to notice it what so ever. Breaking out into tears and leaning against Hercule. "Oh please, won't the two of you help me," she begged. Night felt a small flare of anger, quite whole heartedly expecting the man to flirt with the distraught woman. That's just what men did, especially those who played the hero card. And dear immortals, did she hate when complete strangers tried to flirt. "For the longest time I lived on a farm with my father, mother, and sister. We were all happy until my father married me off to this horrible man who lived on the outskirts. He never treated me right, my sister had to come live with me just to deal with him! One day a group of bandits started to move farther and farther into our land. It didn't take long for them to finally get sick of us. They came to our little farm house, killed my husband and took my sister prisoner. I was only able to get away because I hid in a closet. My husband never really let me out, so they didn't think I existed. They must have assumed my sister was his wife. Please, you have to get rid of them and save my sister!" The woman pleaded, switching her begging between Nightshade and Hercule. Big, ugly, tears started to roll down her cheeks as she hiccuped and sobbed.

"Now, now," Night said. Her voice was quiet, gentle, and there was a distinct sweetness to it. There was something soft both in ways of volume and the feel of the words as she rested a hand on the distraught woman's shoulder. "Easy, don't hurt yourself. I'll take care of it," she said. Hercule had lost all of her attention, considering the fact she had something far more important to deal with. The one part of her that was still thinking about the man was quietly hoping that he wouldn't want to come with. It was nothing against his potential skills. She just... didn't always work well with others. Their goals and morals tended not to align with her own, worse yet were the times when their fighting styles didn't align with her own. She'd found it better and easier just to keep to herself and handle everything by herself. That was why she went the route of a mercenary, not a knight or a guard.

"Thank you! Oh thank you!" The woman cried before throwing her arms around Nightshade. The half-avriel easily braced the woman's weight as she accepted the hug, only returning it half way.

"It's okay, really, it's fine," she said. Her voice had become a lot more nervous within the last couple trills as she awkwardly allowed the other woman to hug her. She wasn't really the most social or physical person in the world. Hell, she was pretty sure the last person to touch her without trying to knock her dead was Noth, and Noth was Noth. Noth had special right that he shouldn't have, rights that many other people didn't and never would have. Rights he shared with a very small fraction of people she could list on the fingers of her right hand alone. The only reason she really went along with the physical touch was because the woman was obviously distraught and needed the shoulder to cry on, if only to help her vent her toxic feelings before she hit her breaking point. Night was a hero, it was job to help people... and help people she would in whatever ways she could offer. "Just... lead the way and I'll try to do what I can," Night said, trying to put on a happy enough smile that it would give the woman some semblance of confidence.

The woman nodded leading Nightshade, and Hercule if he felt so compelled to follow, through the streets. The walk itself nearly took the entire trial and when it had been mid early morning upon leaving, it was already starting to border on what one might have considered night in any other season. Of course, Saun didn't really leave much of a night to have. It was still bright out, and the bird seemed to have stamina to spare. She'd flown most of the way on wings that seemed to never really get tired. She had even dozed off at some point, lazily gliding along as they followed the woman. Luckily the path they had taken was a straight shot. As for the young woman who had asked for help, she didn't seem much worse for the wear either in spite of the long breaks of walking. "We're here," she finally said as they stopped in the middle of what seemed to be a random field. The only thing inside of it was... cucumber, lots and lots of cucumber. Sweet immortals, where did you even find this much cucumber seed? Was this woman's family solely responsible for the cucumber stocks of Etzos!?

"So, where exactly is here and why do we need to be here?" The half breed asked, stretching out her body. There was a pop or two, likely caused by the lack of moment in anything but her wings.

"You'll see," the woman said, turning away swiftly enough to hide the growing smile on her features.
word count: 1233
Common ~ Ith'Ession ~ Lorien
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Nightshade Eld
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Posts: 878
Joined: Wed Aug 10, 2016 5:43 pm
Race: Mixed Race
Profession: The Best Hero
Renown: 485
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A Grand Hero! [Hercule]

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"Hey, why don't you stay here and stand guard," the woman quickly told her unwanted pursuers. It would be easier to handle this on her own. It would become an issue if the man followed her and wasn't actually any good at fighting... The more cooks in a kitchen the harder things became. The same could be said of warriors. The more fighters in a situation the harder things became to deal with. Even in situations where she was outnumbered the woman had come to prefer fighting on her own. The woman leading them didn't seem to care either way and somehow she actually managed to convince the man it would be better if he stayed and kept guard, stating how noble it would be of him. The half-breed and the woman continued on in silence for a little while longer until she noticed something strange about the ground. A slight metallic glint.

Launching herself upwards she barely avoided a trap that launched a large steel thing at her. It moved too fast for her to see. Jumping from the field two more men appeared. It was only a group of three but it did leave her outnumbered three to one. She knew something had been off about this entire situation! Dropping to the ground she quickly decided on what stance to take as she drew her weapon. Some stances were better against multiple enemies than others. Taking the stance she so far knew worked best on a large number of enemies she prepared herself. Her stance quickly went into a guard as the woman, howled pulling out a broadsword and lunging at her. The other two men had armor in contrast to the woman, one was wearing steel and the other leather. She had to deal with the woman first.

It was always awkward blocking with Red Brand as the blade with a Scimitar. They weren't made for blocking and more flexible and curved blade have a not so good sound as the broadsword came crashing down on it. The half-breed braced her body, fearful that her sword might snap. Luckily it didn't and the woman moved back a couple paces. Watching her movements and the movements of the blade in her hand, the half-breed darted forward and stuck out hard. The broadsword for being a better sword to guard with cracked under the weight and the precision of the half-breed. The woman facing off against the half-breed look terrified and fled afterward, leaving the half-breed with the other two.

The man in steel would be dealt with the same way as the broadsword, abusing any kind of weaknesses in the armor. But the man in leather was faster and a bit of a higher priority threat at the moment. On that train of thought, leather was easier to get through than steel, meaning dealing with the man would require a lot less energy. The man moved a little too quick for the half-breed though. In a panic she struck out at his shoulder, swinging with all her might, blindly cleaving the appendage right off. A spurt of blood jumped from the arm and she could feel a sickness starting to boil in the pit of her stomach. The man in leather disappeared and quickly after the man in steel left, thinking better than to continue the fight. Swallowing hard the half-breed spread her wings, feeling entirely too uncomfortable. She... should go alert the guard.

"Common"

"Ith'ession"
word count: 592
Common ~ Ith'Ession ~ Lorien
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A Grand Hero! [Hercule]

Oh, how I wish Hercule had remained and finished this thread. I loved the very brief interaction between the two of you and I could see it becoming a most peculiar but very firm friendship. I really enjoyed this thread, though - it was a lot of fun. Enjoy the rewards and PM me if I missed anything.

Nightshade

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XP: 15 (not for magic)

Renown:10 (bandit hunting!)

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Nope

Knowledge

Blades: Taking on multiple enemies
Blades: Lunging with a curved blade
Blades: Where to strike a broadsword to break it
Blades: Attacking weakness in the armor
Blades: Leather is easier to cut than steel
Blades: Taking off a man's arm through leather armor
Blades: The more blades in a fight, the more complicated things become
Persuasion: Convincing potential liabilities to stay behind


Hercule

Points

XP: None (below word count)

Renown:None

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None

Knowledge

None
word count: 144
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~~Red in hoof and claw... ~~


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