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Post by Bard "Dual-Strike" Alrikson on Mar 19, 2015 8:13:13 GMT -8
Bard snorted, noting the design on the bandages she'd used. Ethera wouldn't have much to worry about. Bard didn't hang out with the sort of people who were likely to talk to the guards about anything that didn't directly concern them, and being in his presence alone would guarantee she'd be treated at least as well as Bard was. The man made a habit of treating his neighbors well, whether he was in Southpeak or Vertholt. At the mention of taking Bult, Bard snorted and spat in the snow. "Let the animals have his sorry hide. The boy'll probably bring about twenty coppers, not a big bounty, but it'll be enough for supplies when you leave out." He said, shrugging under the weight of the unconscious man until the body was settled comfortably across his shoulders. He had Ethera carry his crossbow for now, and turned in the direction of Southpeak to begin trudging through the snow. "Besides, if he makes trouble we can just knock him out again. Not like he's going anywhere, trussed like a Fool's Day Roast."
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Post by Deleted on Mar 20, 2015 9:04:19 GMT -8
"Well, if you say so. It's your choice, you're the one carryin' em." Ethera shrugged indifferently, taking one last glance at the gore covered landscape before following after Bard. Unless she was to hogtie one of the other bandits and drag them along face first in the snow, she wasn't about to bring along anyone else for the ride. "Dunno if he'll live through another hit to the head, though."
It probably wasn't the best idea to lend Ethera a crossbow. -Or any other contraption more complex than a bow, really. Surely Bard wouldn't notice if she dismantled the weapon only a little bit, and it couldn't be too hard to put together again if she did. The trapper had never bothered with an actual crossbow before, and within hardly a minute her attempted restraint was gone and she was silently fidgeting with the weapon, the frightening thought of returning to Vertholt quickly forgotten. The chances of anyone recognizing her were probably slim to none, anyway.
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Post by Bard "Dual-Strike" Alrikson on Mar 30, 2015 14:57:06 GMT -8
Bard was, in fact, quite familiar with the construction of that crossbow. The weapon had a short, but storied past. Bard had never been much use wwitha bow. That, mixed with his brutal, savage nature, lead him down the road of Infantry. The young soldier had quickly learned that versatility, cunning, and will were the soldier's greatest weapons. During his time as captain of the Bridgeburners, he'd been intrigued by a weapon concept proposed by one of his bowmen. Fiddler, a bowman, had worked with Bard to design the weapon, drawing it out in long nights at a tavern, and picking up books and scrolls from ancient times that described smaller, similar weapons. Eventually, they began building prototypes, figuring out what materials and shapes worked best for each piece. They puzzled it out, bit by bit. Using their pay from soldiering, the two commissioned the parts they needed from craftsmen as they went, often rejecting several parts until they got the right piece for the job. The resulting weapon was a powerful, lethal device. Fiddler became incredibly proficient with it, and would often fight near Bard, covering him at range and watching the barbaric captain's back.
Fiddler died in battle, cut down by a Bandit Lord's blade. Bard avenged his friend, and recovered the crossbow. In honor of Fiddler's memory, Bard sent copies of the designs to Military HQ, along with a letter proposing the weapon's more widespread implementation. Due to cost constraints and the cost of mass producing such a weapon. It was unfortunate, but Bard at least had the final proof of concept. He adapted to its use, becoming fluid, lethal, and accurate with it. Bard wasn't worried about Ethera dismantling it, though it might be better for her to wait until they got to Vertholt, just so they'd be certain she didn't misplace anything. He trusted her judgement and ability in that matter, and dearly hoped that trust was not misplaced.
"I wouldn't worry about him wakin' up for a while, as long as we leave him be. That said, if he wakes up, and tries to escape, there are other ways to subdue a man besides conkin' him over the head." Bard paused a moment to look about, making sure they were on the right course, then kept walking. "Did you know that if you loop your arm around someone's throat for just long enough, you can knock'em out with out killin'em or hurtin' em too bad. I'll show you how to do it sometime, if you like." Bard was starting to like the girl's company, and he seemed to think she was the sort who could use a friend. "So, when we get back to Verholt, what'll ye be hungry for?"
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Post by Deleted on Mar 31, 2015 18:24:51 GMT -8
"..Uhh, really?" Ethera glanced up, the crossbow now upside down in her hands. She didn't dare point it towards herself, should it go off for whatever ungodly reason and shoot her eye out. "That sounds like a real easy way to snap a neck. Yeah 'course I wanna see that, so long as you don't try it on me!"
The crossbow didn't seem too impossible to replicate, though creating something like it in the form of a tiny portable ballista would be extremely impractical. But then again, most traps weren't too practical in the first place. Even simple bear traps always weighed a lot, and more often than not the ones she was familiar with would end up with only a severed leg inside. Some poor unknowing elk would end up stepping into those metal jaws and a leg would just snap right off. It was unlikely it would survive long after that, but by the time the short trail was followed, some other lucky predator would already stumbled upon the kill and claim it as its own.
The mention of food only reminded Ethera how hungry she was. One could only live for so long on overcooked rabbit and bitter berries, and the last time she had had something that wasn't snared or didn't have one of her arrows through it was probably a few months to a few weeks back. "I'unno.. Not rabbit, though. Is that one kinda bread they used to cover in honey or whatever still around?" Living out in the wilds also meant that it was pretty difficult to keep up with the different things people come up with. Heck, for all Ethera knew, giant hats made out of dog hair could be the newest trend up in Vertholt now. -Not that she would protest anything as hilarious as that.
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Post by Bard "Dual-Strike" Alrikson on Apr 6, 2015 14:22:12 GMT -8
Having eaten more than his fair share of rabbit in his day, Bard could not help but agree with the sentiment. Coneys were good for stewing, and that was about it. The meat was simply too lean. He grinned a bit at her mention of sweet rolls and nodded, feet crunching through the snow. "Aye, I even know a little place that uses some kind of frosted icing instead of honey, and they fill'em with preserves." Bard would've been lying if he'd said his mouth wasn't watering at the thought, and his stomach growled audibly. His fighting seemed to have awakened the former soldier's appetite. "Coincidentally, they also make a damn fine beef stew. Perfect for warming up the bones on a cold day like this, if I don't say so myself." He seemed to be distancing himself from the earlier violence, a practice that had become habit over the years. Lingering on the fight, overthinking the act, these could lead to a host of problems and issues that Bard could not afford to subject himself. Any thoughts he had on the deed were being firmly locked away in a box whose lid was being nailed in place by the words 'It was Necessary'. He secretly prayed to all the gods and spirits that he never find himself using those words to justify a true attrocity.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 9, 2015 17:38:35 GMT -8
The idea of honey bread, or sweet rolls, as they were apparently called, being covered in actual frosting and jam made the pastries sound all the more tempting. As for actual beef, she'd sooner catch a dragon than find anything related to cows other than gross, overpriced jerky from a sleazy caravan out in the wilderness. "No way, really? We should definitely go there first, then." Ethera couldn't help but to grin to herself as she shuffled through the powdery snow. The creaking of the branches above head and the chirping birds made the day seem like it had gone on for an eternity. That was how it always was in the forest, really. A month could figuratively pass in a week and she would be none the wiser.
"By the way," The trapper mused absentmindedly, reaching out with her free hand to tug on the branch of a tall bush as she passed by, sending a small explosion of snow dancing into the air. "Is there anything interesting happenin' in the city now? I got a brother that got into The Order of Whatever a while ago, y'know, and I'm kinda wondering if that whole thing's still up." Of course, it was doubtful that the Order of the Sun would be taken down any time soon, but it was always possible. There was a fair share of rumors from what Ethera recalled. The other children would scoff about those with magic, saying that the gods would forget about them and they'd no longer be 'special'. It was only the usual banter cycled by those that had little better to do, but she couldn't help but to believe some of it.
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Post by zoi on Jul 27, 2015 12:44:37 GMT -8
As it has been April since this thread has been posted in, it is now closed.
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Post by zoi on Aug 2, 2015 9:01:28 GMT -8
Points allocated as follows: Bard - 18 Ethera - 18
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