Post by Victus Brightblade on Jun 28, 2013 1:49:49 GMT -5
April 20th
Weeks after the invasion, life attempted to return to normal. Priorities shifted from survival to new goals. People as a whole wanted to recover. However, many had lost much. Cemeteries were filled with corpses and there remained scars on the parks where funeral pyres for hundreds were erected. Schools were missing many students. Many of the soldiers visibly aged by years. Of course some merchants sought to use this as a means to profit and sell goods to allegedly repel the undead, but the guards kept the city informed on means they knew worked, which is to say they knew of nothing would stop the undead save magic.
The Bars profited immensely from the war. With many inns being burned to the ground, there was great demand for new bars to be built and the bars that survived had been shelters for those seeking to flee from the dead, and thus people visited those bars loyally, out of gratitude.
One breed of person however darkened many bars. The survivors. Those who had lost everything. Those who always saw the images of their dead or undead family. This was the breed of people Demaica feared for most. These were the men who could break.
Thus, did Victus find himself in the Battered Shield and Tankard. The inn used to be the Strong Drink and Shield, but had nearly been destroyed by the undead, and the previous owner had been found in many pieces within, and some of them had attacked the scavengers. Once the inn had been cleared, another couple from the eastern reaches of Demacia came and took it over.
The inn itself appeared to be in decent condition. The crowd was small, but that was normal for the time. There were clear signs some of the floorboards were new and the windows were largely boarded up, as the glass had been shattered. The bar itself was scrap wood and the beer was still pre-invasion beer, and thus had an ashy taste from the burning buildings and bodies. Life would go on though. Demacia would rebuild itself.
'But will I?' Victus thought as he slowly walked to the bar and sat at a stool. his armor showed many signs of wear and tear. Dents and chips missing from the plates as well as a missing shoulder pauldron and other smaller plates. He placed his battered helm on the counter, exposing an unscratched, but dark face, and raised a hand for a drink and was given a pale ale by the bartender.
"You got anything heavier than that?" Victus said with disappointment.
The bartender sadly shook his head. "I'm sorry, sir. No time for anything new. In a few weeks we will have a trappist ready for drinking, but-"
"I'll make do. Leave me in peace." Victus said taking the tankard and taking a long pull. He had a lot of thinking to do. So many things he wanted to do. Things to finish, things to forget, things to avenge...that last train of thought had Victus taking another pull.
Post by Andrei Tosya on Jun 28, 2013 2:51:19 GMT -5
At the time Andrei had just arrived in Demacia along with his brother, who now was looking for a place to stay whilst Andrei went to the bar. As soon as he walked in he noticed a grim aura, the people were sad, they had lost loved ones and their homes, "This, is perfect." thought Andrei, people like this would eventually snap and do something bad, that is why the Tosya brothers are in Demacia, to spread information about the Glorious Evolution.
Andrei walked up to the bartender and ordered a drink, he took a look around the bar, noting all the sad looking faces. As he got his drink he put his hand on his mask that covered his face, a few clicks could be heard and the mask came off. He started to drink his drink when he noticed a heavily armored man a few feet away from him. He looked at him and moved to the stool next to him, "You look like a man who's been to hell and back."
Post by Victus Brightblade on Jun 29, 2013 19:19:41 GMT -5
"You have no idea." Victus said coldly as he took another pull of his drink. The pale ale was good, but...not what he wanted. Especially with the after taste of ash.
"What brings you to this land? Do you seek to scam the commoners or sell a blade or help rebuild?"
Post by Andrei Tosya on Jun 29, 2013 19:53:46 GMT -5
"Nah, I don't do scams, being a mercenary is more like what I would do. No, I'm here for other business." Andrei looked around the bar again, "So, the Isles hit you hard. It was quite difficult finding a captain that was willing to lend us his boat to go here." He ran his hand through his hair and took a sip from his drink. "You don't happen to know if there is someone who wants someone to... Disappear?"
Post by Victus Brightblade on Jun 30, 2013 18:45:05 GMT -5
Victus slowly turned his head to look Andrei in the eye. Surprisingly fast for a man in plate, he grabbed Andrei by the back of the head and slammed it into the counter.
"Get out." Victus growled as he stood up, drawing his bastard sword. "Now." He felt the Barbarian urging him to attack, but he was here for a drink, not a fight.
The Bartender was backing away from the bar at this point and several other guests had either stood defensively, or run out.
Post by Andrei Tosya on Jul 1, 2013 1:45:06 GMT -5
Andrei felt his head hit the counter, he stood up after the hit. "Oh, I forgot, you Demacian's are too honorable." He said with a smirk as he put on the mask again, a few clicks where heard. "Ain't that right?" he said with the mask distorting his voice, he began walking towards the door.
Post by Victus Brightblade on Jul 1, 2013 16:11:53 GMT -5
"Say what you will. Just leave. Your kind are not welcome here."
Victus sat back down, leaning his blade on the bar within easy reach.
The barkeep was still wary of the violence the knight had rapidly displayed for no discernible reason, but when Victus laid out some gold onto the counter, it eased his mood. Victus downed the rest of his tankard and signaled for another.
Post by Lucas Brightshield on Jul 3, 2013 3:57:23 GMT -5
Many taverns were burned indeed, so Lucas had to go find a new one. After much juggling thoughts, he decided to visit the Battered Shield and Tankard. As the masked man walked out, the pathfinder walked in, and, after not finding an empty spot in the building, he went to the place Andrei left. It was as good as any other one, after all. As soon as the bartender found an open spot in his schedule to tend to Lucas, he'd simply speak. "Afternoon sir, I'd like to have something heartwarming. I'd rather not wake up with a hangover though..."
I am a Pathfinder. I will do what everyone else thinks below him, because someone must do it. Call me dishonorable for it all you want. I serve justice, not honor. And Demacia, ofcourse.
Post by Victus Brightblade on Jul 3, 2013 12:58:39 GMT -5
The Barkeep nodded once with a smile and went into the kitchens, where the smell of beef stew drifted into the tavern.
Meanwhile, Victus noticed Lucas sitting next to him. Pathfinder armor...his kin struck down this man's brothers-in-arms. Victus had to help this man protect the pathfinders and himself, but....they were his kin, adopted kin maybe, but kin. Victus laid low many men he had sparred with and fought with and drank with...and Tiberius....
Victus took a long pull again. Perhaps in a few mugs he could sleep through a full night. Maybe a few barrels and he could forget. He just wished he could forget it all. Grimcleaver, Ironwill, Brightblade, the Shadow Isles...
Another drink, another empty flagon, and more gold on the counter. A thought crept into Victus's mind. What if he was cursed? What if this misfortune was his ancestors raging at him for not avenging his kin....Ironwill still lived, where everyone else had perished. Was it Victus's duty to slay them? Kill the man who spared him? The thought had merits. Vengeance. Not Justice, not right perhaps, but...if his ancestors had appeared before him and asked him to, he would. If they were trying to tell him now....
The Knight seized control over his thoughts. Now was not the time to act hastily. This previous thought pattern could be many things. A thought left by Nocturne in his head to weaken Demacia. A delusion from his experiences. It could not be magical or spiritual at all and better to just ignore it...
Ignore his vengeance. Ignore the screams of fallen Grimcleaver in his head.
The Barkeep came back with a bowl of stew and Victus raised a hand for another round, and the Barkeep gave him another tankard.
"Sir, could I interest you in a bowl of stew?" The Barkeep asked.
"No." Victus stated with a slight snarl. The barkeep left the counter warily and went to serve the other guests.
Post by Lucas Brightshield on Jul 5, 2013 14:37:39 GMT -5
This man next to me seems rude, yet familiar somehow. Where have I seen him before? Lucas pondered, while drinking from his tankard. He didn't seem to particularly enjoy his drink, partially cause of his neighbour, and partially cause he still had to get over his lost brothers in arms. When Lucas heard his tummy rumble quietly, he asked the bartender when he passed. "If you don't mind, I'd like have the stew please" That guy next to me. I think he gets angry easy. I've seen him before...
I am a Pathfinder. I will do what everyone else thinks below him, because someone must do it. Call me dishonorable for it all you want. I serve justice, not honor. And Demacia, ofcourse.
Post by Lucas Brightshield on Jul 12, 2013 3:38:18 GMT -5
Lucas pulled his bowl of stew closer to him and said: "Thanks, but I think you need it more than I do." and put a few coins on the counter. When the man next to him kept drinking, he got concerned. This guy drinks too much. This won't end well. I hope this works. "Sir, I'm going to assume you're trying to forget something. Believe me, tommorrow you'll still remember it, and you'll wake up unable to move your head at that rate."
I am a Pathfinder. I will do what everyone else thinks below him, because someone must do it. Call me dishonorable for it all you want. I serve justice, not honor. And Demacia, ofcourse.
Post by Victus Brightblade on Jul 12, 2013 8:38:20 GMT -5
"You know nothing, Pathfinder. You will never know what I know. The people who do are dead." Victus snarled at the man without looking at him. His mind was starting to creep back into the battle against the Brightblade dead and it might be apparent on his face as it grew darker and his eyes possessed an angry glare. His hand tightened down on the flagon. His thoughts began a mess of blood and woe and the urge to escape the pain in his heart. How does one free themselves of pain in the heart? Is there a medicine or magic? Is there a mental trick?
Better left alone...this curse would not spread...How can one be alone in a city? It is not possible. Yes....it was time to leave....and go where? Noxus needed soldiers, but their ethics were lacking and same with Zaun. Piltover was too advanced and too clean....Bilgewater would be a good place. One could disappear there...maybe lose this thing there....What could he sell? His only skill was that of murder and bloodshed. He had no skill at the forge or woodcraft. He had no education for any sort of paper work....but...Bilgewater could use another law man. Couldn't hurt to try it.
But there was no way he could leave without finishing his business in Demacia. It would be his last chance...for could he ever return if he left?
Victus finished off that drink and, with diminishing dexterity, reached into his pouch for more gold, slapping them loudly onto the counter. When the barkeep came and hesitated, Victus's dark angry face pressured the man into pouring.
Post by The Secret Weapon on Jul 13, 2013 0:14:01 GMT -5
Zac had finally made it to Demaca, although a few weeks late as the invasion was already over and reconstruction was already mostly underway. He thought since Zaun had been quiet he'd be the good guy he was raised to be and lend a hand to people in need, he knew that Zaun and Demacia weren't exactly allies and that as a Zaunite he expected the weird looks people gave him as he casually strolled through the city.
After awhile he found himself lost and ended up outside a particular inn, shrinking himself naturally to fit through the door he walks inside and takes a seat beside the armored man before a brow to the barkeep and casually asking "Whatdya got to drink?"
Post by Victus Brightblade on Jul 13, 2013 14:26:06 GMT -5
The innkeeper was pale as a ghost.
One of the most powerful Zaunites was in his inn...asking for a drink.
How does one greet a gelatin man? What does such a being drink or eat? How would he been seen serving a champion of a city-state that was not on good terms with his own?
Well, the creature appeared polite and easygoing, so perhaps it was possessed of a good soul...if such a thing had one.
"Apologies, mil-.....sir, but we are new to this city and have yet to have our standard selection for our guests. Would a pale ale suffice?"
At the sound of the word pale ale, Victus somewhat roused himself to see about refilling his mug. That's when he noted the green creature known as Zac sitting next to him.
To the uninformed, Zac's face was a terror. An evil grin made more ominous by the nature of his being, and he had very little knowledge of Zac given the creatures recent addition to the League and not being from Noxus. To Victus's drunken mind, he saw danger. He leapt back from the bar with blade in hand and stumbled back a few steps.
"Begone, foul beast. Leave or I will put you down." Victus said very unsteadily and quite clearly drunk. It was part miracle and part training that he still remained on his feet.
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