ROLEPLAY HQ - queenmaker-kingslayer

"Ey, another! I said- hic- ano- Blegh" Ah, taverns. What not to love about them? Probably the drunks and the unsafety that could brew inside them. Lonely women were pray to delinquents who found it easier to steal from them. Or worse. Saskia wasn't one of those. The men surrounding her, one of which she had vomited the boots of, were there for another reason. "Tsk, drunk. Like usual. This is what you spend your money on, huh? Instead of paying me back!? I told you already Saskia," the one speaking was the leader. He stood right next to her, hand on the hilt of his sword. The others also held their weapons but didn't wield them yet, "Please, please give me the money back. My wife is going to kill me! We lent you so much!" She looked up at him after cleaning her mouth, smiled and brought him in for a side hug, "Eeeey, Charlos! I told you, man. Your- hic- money issss fine! Well secured. Just gotta- kill the dragon securing it." "Saskia I beg of you. If only one coin. She will leave Saskia. She will. Already has the papers," the man grabbed her by the collar of her shirt, begging. His desperation clear on his eyes. Desperation that turned into fear. And then dread. Then horror. And finally pain. The man screamed at the top of his lungs, taking a few steps back. The drunk woman had stood up, tipsy, sword in hand. It was stained in blood. Two soft thuds were heard as his hands laid on the floor, "Don't. Touch me. Am a lady- hic- prick." All hell broke loose.

@Alpine

Princess Rikuma Celaerna Aelynthi VI, the Undying, revered heir to the throne of the dark kingdom of Rashouris, Prime Necromancer Adept of the Order of the Circle - or Rikki, for short - had crossed the border shortly after moonrise. She traveled mostly by night, struggling to adjust to the light of the daytime hours when she was used to total darkness. For someone who so rarely left her corner of the world, there was an excitement to seeking out the legendary hero who could finally break her homeland's curse. Odd that she'd been told to search the taverns, though. The undead crow she had sent as a scout led her to a city that indeed had many taverns to search. Colourful row houses decorated with ship paint to withstand the harsher weather dotted the shoreline past the docks and, behind those, a plethora of establishments to serve the drunk and disorderly. Each one she searched told the same story; an overwhelming barrage of noise, the acrid stench of vomit and booze, and no sign of the hero she'd come to find. Just a lot of uneasy stares from people unsure what to think of a 5'2", nearly skeletal figure decked out in black robes and bones with their face entirely concealed. She was sure she'd heard the phrase 'Edge Lord' thrown around once or twice, and had resisted the urge to inform the individuals that she was a Princess, not a Lord, and her domain was an entire kingdom, not only its edge. Instead, she had informed them that the title they sought to speak of was 'Marquis', and the response had been roaring and incomprehensible laughter. By the time she reached what would prove to be the final establishment of the night, her head was pounding from the overstimulation of a city she was certain had been designed as to torture her. She sighed, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath to brace herself. She muttered under her breath, a brief piece of an old ritual in a long-dead language. She forgot its exact translation, but still it brought comfort.

04:23

. As she pushed the door open, the noise that came through varied from the others she had checked. The sounds of battle, or what she had assumed a battle would sound like, if everyone involved was drunk. She opened her eyes and walked inside, eyes fixed on the scene in front of her. The fair-haired human at the centre of it all matched the descriptions she'd heard, but... no, that was impossible. "Saskia must be in a different tavern," she muttered to herself, her voice nearly monotone. She stepped back to avoid a falling body, only to feel another on more solid footing behind her, and to hear a glass drop, shattering on the ground. "Oi, watch where yer goin'," a man's voice slurred behind her. She stiffened and spun to face him. "Well, actually, you were facing forward and I was not. The onus was on you to both watch what was in front of you and hold onto your drink better." In the moment that followed, she expected him to back down, to bow to her superior logic and admit his follies. Instead, he reached back, grabbed a bottle, and smashed it over her head. Or tried; it bounced off, as he had failed to use sufficient force. She still got the point, stumbling back slightly and rubbing the spot where it had hit. Her eyebrows raised in a gesture of disdain he couldn't see anyway. "Good sir," she said in the exact same tone she'd used before. "Do you know what a blood eagle is?" He responded by rolling up his shirtsleeves and clenching his fists. She wasn't quite sure what that meant, but had the faintest impression that it did not mean her threat had been sufficient.

04:23

@Uepa

Suddenly a man bigger than the one she had offended hit him. The force sent them both through the establishment's wooden wall. Cackling, the fair-haired human that matched Saskia's description, kept on fighing with the bigger group of tavern goers. She kicked one on the jaw, sending him flying to the roof and getting him stuck there. Then she punched a poor soul who didn't want to be there, straight in the chest, gifting him 6 months out of comission. Lastly, she manhandled an orc that rushed her, slamming him against the ground over her shoulder. *She jumped on top of the bar, vomiting for 5 seconds straight. As she did, she picked up a jar of beer and drank it all as soon as she was done. It later flew into the air, hitting one of the innocent bystanders on the head. Triumphant, she lifted up her sword into the air, struggling to keep herself standing, "Send anyone who- dare mess with the- the great! The great Saskia- Oh god," she puked again.

@Alpine I hope that's not too short

Rikuma took a step back to avoid the flying human projectile. It seemed there would be no need to have anyone blood eagled tonight, a fact which she would count as a relief. But, relief or not, she found herself frozen to the spot. Combat was louder than chatter, and it all made the candlelight in the tavern seem too bright, the smells too strong. She slowed her breathing, trying to force a sense of calm into herself despite the chaos raging around her. One of her hands slipped into the pouch of tiny bones that hung from the belt that cinched her robes together. As she rolled a bone between her fingers, putting pressure to fully feel the familiar rough texture along the ridges, she turned just in time to see the human climb up on the bar counter... and vomit. The others seemed to avoid her as she referred to herself as- No. No fucking way. Her kingdom's best hope was on the tavern counter, vomiting up an inhuman amount of booze and hardly able to get a proper taunt out. Rikuma tried to focus less on her disappointment and more on the display of potential skill she'd shown even while drunk. She gave the small knucklebone in her hand one last squeeze and dropped it back into place. The others in the tavern avoided Saskia now, if only to avoid getting puked on. So at least it was easy enough to shoulder her way through the crowd into the one place nobody else wanted to be; directly beside this once-great adventurer. "Saskia Harvey-Lottway?" She spoke in a direct manner, heedless of the potential danger of approaching a very drunk woman with a sword. "We need to talk. Somewhere quieter than this." Her mission and origin were not terribly secret; there was just no way she would try to carry on a conversation in here. (Nope, it's all good!) @Uepa

She raised a single finger towards Rikuma, still barfing all of the alcohol she had injested. A couple of seconds after she stopped, Saskia lifted herself up and fixed her hair. She wobbled from side to side, a shaky smile on her face as she tried to pose, "Heh- I suppose you- hic- need my kickassing ass, yeah? Let- ack- burp. Lessgo outside." She dragged her feet as she made her way to the exit, zig zagging and almost tripping. At one point a poor soul was too close to her path and she bumped against his shoulder. Despite his apology, the "heroine" held him by the collar of his shirt and sent him to sleep with one punch. Then she continued to somehow walk outside. Once outside, Saskia glanced at both sides of the streets before quickly pulling outside of her pant's pockets a tiny vial. She downed it and stepped on it, shattering the glass. A long winded sigh came from her while her entire body wobbled. At the end of that, she stood straight and fixed her hair. "Speak. Where you sent to kill me or are you looking for my services," as day was to night, Saskia suddenly looked composed and sober. She still looked like a mess, but the same way a messy beast would. Untamable, unhinged and with nothing to lose. "I'll make you something really clear, lass. You better be coming to kill me, I doubt any mission you may offer would be worth keeping me away from my fun," to make her threat a little more convincing, she laid her hand over the hilt of her sheathed sword.

@Alpine

As Rikuma attempted to lead the way outside, she glanced back over her shoulder to make sure the drunken mess was still following. She was, albeit unsteadily, and Rikuma found herself wondering if a leash would be necessary to to make it through this journey. Then she heard the other man apologize, caught on to where this would lead, and realized she would at least need to be the voice of reason. "That hardly seems-" The voice of reason went unheard, and the man was already unconscious.. "-necessary." Once they were outside, she took in a deep breath of the considerably less foul-smelling air. Her moment of relief didn't last long as she looked over at Saskia. Nobody outside of a mentor role ever spoke to her like that. The disrespect! It was... Fascinating. Refreshing, even. She tilted her head to one side, but the hood continued to conceal her expression. Which remained unchanging anyway. "So, if I said I know how to kill Emperor Aubron, and offered the opportunity to do so, it wouldn't be worth your time?" She looked off toward the horizon as though deep in thought. "I see. In that case, I suppose Rashouris's gem mines will remain closed, and your future drinks unpaid for. What a pity." She turned away as though to leave, glanced around to make sure nobody was paying attention to them, then looked back over her shoulder. After another moment's hesitation, she lowered her hood. Most of her features wouldn't be recognizable, so there probably wasn't much of a dramatic effect to anyone from outside of her own kingdom... oh well. "Or if you have changed your mind, we can begin with proper introductions." @Uepa

"Bullshit, Emperor Aubron is unkillable. Not even the gods care to intercede and destroy the cunt, why would I believe you?" was what Saskia would have said and what she wanted to say. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest and rested her weight on her right side. "Say I believe you. How am I sure it will work? That it isn't just a suicide mission? Trust me, nobody- nobody- wants him dead more than I do. I don't care about your name. Tell me how this can be done," Saskia had walked up towards her while she left. When she turned around for her dramatic reveal, the warrior loomed over her. Gone was the whimsical, drunk and dangerous Saskia. Only the dangerous remained and her eyes were shooting daggers down at her. "You seriously thought your appearance would change anything? That only tells me you are desperate. So you better have somethings worth my time."

@Alpine

Rikuma's expression remained neutral as she looked up at Saskia. There was the legend she'd heard. Alcoholic or not, the danger was still there, and that was what she needed. Even if there was a risk that the danger could turn toward her. Still, it was hard to be her usual, intimidating self when she had to strain her neck to look at her face - or at least to avoid accidentally staring at her chest - and she was, in fact, desperate. "I wouldn't leave my kingdom to find you if I didn't. True immortality is impossible to achieve; there is always a catch of some sort, a way out," she said. "In his case, the rumours that he bound himself to a specific weapon are true. It's the one thing that can kill him, and it will break his curses when it does. I went to great pains to verify my sources, and I know its most likely location." She reached back into the pouch of bones, picking up another one to roll between her fingers. Moreso out of habit than for any other reason. "The one problem with that is that someone from the kingdom of Rashouris cannot wield Ashrune. As the heir to its throne, I unquestionably fall into that category." Also it was a battleaxe and probably weighed more than she did, but that was beside the point. "Any undead constructs I create for such a purpose would be considered an extension of my will, and therefore also incapable of wielding it. So, that's where you come in." @Uepa