(Semi-Open RP) From the Ashes of Valoran

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Birdy51

Senior Member

06-18-2012

Krizar, Residential District

"You're leaving so soon?" Basil's eyes pleaded against Arnolds, melting his will to leave. Her mother stood over her, a small grin on her lips. She knew this routine all too well.

"Basil, you know father has to go. We can't stay here if he doesn't get any gold for us."

Basil pouted, looking up at her mother. She obviously had other plans. Swinging herself off a chair, Basil clapsed his hand. "We only just got here! Can't you wait a day?" He sighed audibly.

Why is she so good at this...? Arnold thought. The proposition was tempting. His eyes scanned his new home in Krizar. A modest home, it only had but a single story consisting of two bedrooms, a kitchen, and a cellar. Currently, he found himself in a small kitchen and dining space. A table had been set up, one of the first purchases for the house. Their meagre frontier belongings were stewn about the room in the flurry of the move. Arnold Jaeger knew that Noxus would be none too happy about one of their citizens moving to Krizar, so their flight to the city was swift. They weren't able to take all of their belongings with them, only the most important things.

But life could be worse. Arnold had brought his two most important people with him. One of those people was his daughter, Basil. A small girl with mousy brown hair, she is quick to flash her petit teeth. Her tiny hands clasped his hands, with softly pleading hazel eyes. They were just like her mother's, Holly Jaeger. The two are complete opposites. Where Holly is meek, Basil is a fiery spirit. Still, he loves them both for different reasons. Holly is, and will always be the voice of reason for him. There are many a times where she had to pull his fat out of the fryer. She made him a better man in many ways. Holly's brown eyes caught his, reminding him of his duty as a father.

"You know I have to go... But I'll come back. Just like always!" said Arnold. Basil's pouting face became weaker, so he continued. "Come on, you know I love you still, right?"

"Yes father..." Basil whispered. Suddenly, her face contorted, becoming slightly angry. "But you better not forget my birthday!" She exclaimed, slipping past him to her bedroom. Arnold chuckled at this outburst. She was right, it was coming up fast.

"You will remember Basil's birthday this time, won't you?" Holly spoke, eying him suspiciously. "Last time Basil said that, you ended up having to make her a sock puppet doll in your basement. Out of her socks nonetheless." Arnold smiled. He did do that. Basil didn't speak to him directly for a week.

Standing up, he shook his head of the memory. "Yes, yes, I'll get her something. Hold down the fort, won't you dear?" Arnold said. His face moved in to kiss his wife, but a lone finger stopped him.

"Not until you shave. Your beard, mustasche thing is getting truely disgusting." Holly chided. "Promise me you'll shave it when you get back?" Absent-minded, Arnolds fingers rolled through his short beard that wrapped around his mouth. At first, Arnold had found it annoying, but he couldn't make the time to shave it. Now, he too used to the pitiful thing.

"No promises. You might just have to get used to it." Arnold said with a laugh. Tilting his head against hers, he whispered into her ear. "Stay safe until I come back."

"Always." Holly returned. "If you get stuck on the road for long time, write to us."

"I shall. Goodbye my love!" Arnold made for the door, taking a moment to change his attitude. He had to take off the face of Arnold Jaeger, the husband. Now he was Arnold Jaeger, the warrior. With conviction in his heart, he grabbed his belongings and stepped out into the streets of Krizar.

Mission Board

Arnold shifted Clover, his barbed spear, in his hands. It's heavy weight was reasurring to him as he took this first step in the world of becoming a mercenary. It had taken him a few minutes of confused walking to find the board. Embarrassed, Arnold was forced to rely on a random bysander for directions. The woman's sneering face was a memory he would quickly do away with. He had hoped to be the first one to reach the board, but two others were already there.

The first was dark haired man with a rather boisterous mustasche. Two swords were on both sides of him, and Arnold had no doubt of good make.

The other was a white haired woman with a hextech weapon on her back. Arnold had used some hextech technology over the years, but his knowlege over the subject was painfully limited. He had always prefered his crossbow as a ranged alternative. Then again, he could also be sentimental. All four of his primary weapons had value to him. Arnold could never hope to replace them.

Taking a few steps forward, Arnold scanned the board. Reading them over, he silently identified which missions might make the most sense for his needs. Arnold had lived in southern Noxus, but her knew tragically little about his Lady Elara. In addition, he was too well known there, and his move was sudden. Going back could attract unwanted attention.

As for the treants, he was painfully unequiped to do battle with them. There were methods that Arnold knew he could use, but for the most part it was not an ideal fit right now. His weaponry is suited for killing beasts and spirits, not walking trees.

That only left the first mission, the meeting with the Yordle merchant. This seemed to be the simplest of the three missions. It would be a simple task. Afterall, how much trouble could a yordle attract? Arnold also lacked the strongs bias against the pint-sized race held by Noxian city-dwellers, but had never met one in person. The exercise might be interesting. "Mission number one it is." Arnold murmured. Turning to the two warriors beside him, he asked, "Are either of you going to help out this yordle? It might be good to keep a little company on the road."


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Grand Viper

Senior Member

06-18-2012

The dark haired man looked at Arnold. He was about to make a comment when his eyes widened. He pointed at the facial hair that adorned Arnold's face, "By the Gods...what..."

He swallowed his nerves, "What astounding facial hair!" He straightened himself out and started twirling his own mustache, "Nice to meet you, mate! I'm Jurante, Jurante Caedo! You probably heard of me, I know. And this here..." He cast a sideways glance at the white haired woman, "Is someone who I hope to get to know very soon."

Jurante glanced at the board, "The Yordle merchant, eh? Meh..." Jurante shrugged, "If it were up to me, I'd go for the good Lady. She needs to be taken care of in her time of need, her being all sensitive and in distress...But!" He sighed, "Alas, some foul creature has already signed my name to that of the Yordle. So, in short, we'll be walkin' the walk together."

Another sideways glance to the woman next to him, accompanied by a smile, "And I hope she'll walk the walk with us. Eh? Eh?"


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Elithik

Senior Member

06-18-2012

((Can I join as Sekota Verngi?))


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Birdy51

Senior Member

06-18-2012

As the dark haired mercenary turned, his face contorting. The man's finger moved up to his face, and Arnold immediately began to worry. Did this man somehow recognize him? His hand clutched Clover tighter, becoming white. The last thing he needed was retribution for his move to Krizar. How did he...?

"By the Gods...what... What astounding facial hair!" The man's hand immediately went to his mustasche, twirling it in an almost obscene glee. "Nice to meet you, mate! I'm Jurante, Jurante Caedo! You probably heard of me, I know. And this here..." He cast a sideways glance at the white haired woman, "Is someone who I hope to get to know very soon."

Arnold only had time to nod, humouring Jurante before he continued on in his thick Bildgewaterian acccent. "The Yordle merchant, eh? Meh..." Jurante shrugged, "If it were up to me, I'd go for the good Lady. She needs to be taken care of in her time of need, her being all sensitive and in distress...But!" He sighed, "Alas, some foul creature has already signed my name to that of the Yordle. So, in short, we'll be walkin' the walk together."

Jurante gave another glance to the white haired woman with a smile. "And I hope she'll walk the walk with us. Eh? Eh?"

Arnold smiled slightly, loosening up a bit. The man had somewhat eased his nerves with his banter. He was growing fond of this character. With a smile, he said, "You may have to set your sights a little bit lower. She seems to be a cooler customer than most." Shaking his head, he realised that he had forgotten the formalities of speech. "Forgive my manners... My name is Arnold Jaeger. I've only recently joined this sort of business, so I was hoping to find someone to travel with. Seems I've met a good man in that respect."

Arnold looked past Jurante, cocking his head to the side. "You can join us if you'd like, miss. This yordle seems to have business with state of the art technology." Turning his eyes to her rifle, he also added, "With a firearm like that, I would say that's right up your alley. If you end up going in that direction, it would be good to stay as a group. The roads around Krizar are rather dangerous these days."


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Grand Viper

Senior Member

06-18-2012

Jurante grinned, moving his hand away from his mustache, "Cool, hot, it matters not! To set one's sights lower would be an insult to women. For none can resist the charm of..." He glanced at the white haired woman, wiggling his mustache, "A real man's facial hair."

Jurante suddenly took note of her weapon, and whistled at the size of the gun, "Y'know, they do say it's not the size that matters, it's how you use it."

Chuckling good naturedly, Jurante faced Arnold once more and extended a hand out to shake his hand, "Nice to meet you Arnold. Any nicknames you prefer, like Arnie or Juggernaut, or just Arnold is fine?"


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Necromonger

Senior Member

06-18-2012

Krizar Inn

Lizzie had to wash her haggard face... she was never a traveler or a camper, and being away from the conveniences of the city and the institute showed- she could hardly sleep due to the heat and the itchy bed. And the bugs... ugh... the bugs... She picked up her journalist shoulder bag containing her wonderous hextech equipment, wore her special impact glasses and headed to the gathering place. If it weren't for the visionpathic recording drone that flew beside her, Lizzie's lean muscled build and scars would indicate she was just another mercenary. She had the town leader's blessing, and wore her Institute Journalist tag proudly.

My first major coverage story. I can do this. Mom, dad, grandpa- So what if I didn't turn out to be some military officer or summoner? this is my thing... darn it, I miss them already.

Lizzie pepped herself up for the day, eating an apple and some oats. At least the food was farm fresh. She headed outside, the glasses hiding her eyebags.

Mission Board

A town built by mercenaries, for mercenaries... Lizzie heard of these sorts of places. Ideally, it was a great idea, people making their own way by the sweat of their brow. She felt a kinship because she couldn't follow in her family's footsteps- trying to do so was to attempt to live up to seven generations of expectations and living in the shadow of her parents- powerful magi, or her grandfather- an Ionian war hero and founder of the League and later a vicious war criminal.

So... instead of trying to be great, Lizzie settled for reporting on great things happening. Earning 11 black belts was just a hobby- and practical now, seeing as no ordinary reporter in their right mind would accompany mercenaries into combat.

Lizzie arrived fairly late at the gathering, and saw people already dividing up into groups. She was a bit overwhelmed now- this town was so rural and backwater.... not a single piece of hextech in sight, except for her visiopathic recording drone, which garnered looks from the townsfolk. The floating sphere was her father's gift- she led a very privileged life after all- and was similar used for recording League matches. Human assistants were passe.

So there she was, sticking out- an Ionian city girl, albeit one that works out- in the middle of a rural country town. She wore a duster and pants, the local flavor of attire these parts- and a sleeveless tanktop beneath. Why is it so darn hot? Oh right, no climate regulator devices. She patted herself with a face towel.

She looked around for the leader, but it looked like he was busy. She thought a bit, and maybe the first step to making a great story was people story. She looked at Arnold and Jurante- they looked as typical as this town's inhabitants could get. She didn't want to assume some sob story about supporting a family or some greedy merc in it for coin, but if that was the case, boring news was better than no news.

Confident in her looks and posture, she approached them. "Hello there. Elizabeth Wong, Institute freelance reporter. I'm doing a coverage story about the town and its people. Might I have a few words?"


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Kiang Li

Senior Member

06-18-2012

Mission Board
((As indicated. Li has full items except from the lockbuster and the money. And, uh, he's only got a smaller amount of water.))

Kiang Li had already went out of the inn after a short nap and to what he sought was the mission board. He only wore his shinobi mask, without the frontal ceramic cover and the upper part pulled back to his nape, and scanned around, finding himself to be enlightened by the town; a town that is for mercenaries? This could be my new home, he thought. His eyes seemed to widen slightly as he walked to the mission board.

He walked to an open spot, briefly glancing at a group that appeared as if they were interested to do a mission from the board. He began to read the board's missions, and fixed his eyes to the mission regarding the Yordle merchant.


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Birdy51

Senior Member

06-18-2012

Mission Board

At Jurante's friendly words, Arnold stroked his scraggly beard. "Heh, I'd like to see that mustasche attract a woman. My missus won't let me near her until I shave this blasted thing." Jurante's easy going attitude had now completely allowed Arnold to relax. Even if every mercenary was a quirky as this man, he could see himself enjoying this line of work. He grinned, bringing his hand down from his beard and met Jurante's handshake with his own iron clad grip. "No nicknames. You can call me by my last name if you'd like. Jaeger is a bit more catchy I suppose."

"Hello there. Elizabeth Wong, Institute freelance reporter. I'm doing a coverage story about the town and its people. Might I have a few words?" Arnold turned in suprise, and found himself facing down a young woman. Her face was sweating, no doubt on account of the warm weather. Floating beside her was a techmaturgical device with a shiny reflective disk that seemed to focus on Arnolds face for a brief second, then turning to Jurante. This girl was no local, nor did she seem to fit the bill of a mercenary. Upon Elizabeth's person, he spotted Institute Journalist tag.

The change that came with the realization of her proffession was immediate. His body tensed, and his face turned to an intimidating scowl. His right hand pulled away from Jurante and reached for his scabbard. The last thing he needed was his face plastered on some news channel. The Noxian military could be downright vicious to proffessed turncoats. His name was registered in a service log. To be spotted in a place like Krizar, even on official business could be dangerous, and desertion is considered one of the greatest crimes a man could commit in Noxus. Arnold had absolutely no interest on having any sort of interview. All he wanted was a quiet life for him and his family. His answer to Elizabeth was curt and simple.

"No."

With that, Arnold turned towards the board, facing away from the camera. Once again he was put on edge, this time for the second time today. While he longed to get away from this potentially hazardous situation, causing a scene was not one of his priorities. He let Clover rest on the side of the wall on which the message board stood. Drawing his left hand towards his neck, he cautiously felt his amulet, an eye shaped ward against evil. Unlike many of the wards created by is wife, this one was purely symbolic, a symbol that protects families against the monsters that roam the hills of Noxus. However, it had obviously done none nothing to protect him from the prying eyes of a yellow journalist. This Elizabeth was obviously looking for a story, but she would have to find someone else.

Another man joined him there, a foreign Ionian figure. Arnold inwardly groaned. A Noxian by birth, Arnold had a natural distrust of Ionians. This one's face was covered by a suspicious mask. Arnold disliked masks. They revealed too little about the man behind it. It was a fact that made him even more uncomfortable. His grip tightened on the hilt of his sword. He was lingering here far too long.


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Necromonger

Senior Member

06-18-2012

"Hey wait... we can blur out your face... mask your voice, and use an alias?" Elizabeth offered to Arnold, a bit apologetic in her tone. She was raised to be polite and follow journalism ethics.

Elizabeth sighed, her attentioned turning slightly to the Shinobi. Really? An Ionian ninja here? She turned and remarked to him, having trained a time with someone who *claimed* he was Kinkou. "...Pretty good way to announce your skills, Hattori Hanzo." She teased, then turning back and following Arnold. She was warned by her teachers that many people disliked journalists. One needed to be a bit persistent.


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Kiang Li

Senior Member

06-18-2012

Li's eyes were partly being impeded by the mask. Pulling it down to his collar, he began to read the misson again, this time clearer by his eyes. Li did not look much Ionian anymore from the time he spent in Bilgewater and in his journeys, especially by the tanned skin. Noticing a man gripping his sword, Li crossed his arms, both hands holding a shuriken hidden in their pockets. Li did not want trouble, but should the need arise, he was in a state ready for a fight.

Li briefly turned to the man. Going back to reading the board's bounties, Li did not speak, but reconsidered his decision of a fight and stood normally again.

Li shrugged at the person that teased, knowing that he'd never verbally communicated to anyone below the level of an officer that wanted to set a bounty.