Post by Victus Brightblade on Mar 4, 2013 16:30:08 GMT -5
Near the front gate of Demaica lies a Tavern. Two stories and enough room to house fifty men and women. The bar is manned by a Gregor Bitterbrew, a dark skinned man hailing from Shurima. A former merchant traveling the sand, he had found an affinity for the selling of brew. At the age of thirty, he decided to settle down in Demacia.
The main clientele was mercenaries and adventurers planning on staying one night and leaving, but none bore any arms, for at the door stood a Freljordian bouncer and a magical barrier that blocked all weapons. The bouncer was there to stop those who sought to circumvent the barrier and to protect the rack of weapons behind him which was locked with physical and magical locks.
At the bar currently was a lonely large figure in black plate-mail and red cloak, his helmet laying on the counter, his hair as black as night, and a flagon of mead in hand.
An old man in hunters' attire- leather tunic and heavy cloak- entered the tavern. Few people paid him attention enough, but he met looks with a friendly smile. He was beginning to bald, but sported a grey beard. On his back was a mighty compound bow, one that required years of practice and immense arm strength to use. He placed it on the weapon rack along with his quiver.
He approached the bar, sitting near Victus. He greeted Gregor, and Gregor returned the greeting like an old friend.
"Haha! Vergil Valorheart, you old dog. I don't see you enough these days!" They brofist and exchange manly hugs, before resuming speaking. Gregor quickly poured the rather portly old man ginger ale, as he did not imbibe alcohol.
"Aye, Gregor. I am sorry, but I was tending to my nephew..." Vergil explained, which was enough for Gregor to nod and understand.
"Aye, Valerian? Shame, the poor lad. the most talented Valorheart we've seen to date, yet He let booze and women control him." He also set out a platter of nuts.
Vergil grumbled in affirmation. "It's more than that. The family's hard on him you see, for doing his own business. Sigh... My brother told me the news today. He's being disowned... poor lad can't even take care of himself. I'm going to see him later today at the... clinic... been talking with him... have to set him back on the right path. Hopefully he mans up, given his two sons."
Post by Victus Brightblade on Mar 4, 2013 21:27:08 GMT -5
"You Demacians are soft." Victus growled.
"A man doesn't support his children and the Freljordians would exile him. A man should care for his family. Let him be disowned. Make him work. That is a kindness compared to what Freljord does to drunkards and oathbreakers. They make eunuchs out of oathbreakers and drunkards are thrown out into the wilds until they prove themselves able to hold their drink."
"Aye,but this ain't Frejlord is it, stranger?" The old, stocky ranger said, surprised to see someone so opinionated about someone they don't know.
"Some of us might be like that, but others believe in being given a proper chance to set things right- without being told by others how to live their lives." The old man was cool and calm, mellowed by age. Victus was right in many ways, Valerian having been to irresponsible and self-centered.
Post by Victus Brightblade on Mar 4, 2013 21:56:00 GMT -5
"Victus Brightblade. And the proper chance to set things right is the first chance. Demacia would be stronger if they would be harsher. They pamper you Nobles too much as is and you are meant to be the leaders of the common folk."
Victus took a long pull from his flagon and waved for a refill.
Vergil chuckled. "My brother's family is nobility. I am a humble forester. But yes, the trouble maker we were talking about is a spoiled pup." He took a drink of his ginger ale, adjusting himself in his seat.
"What the boy needs is a chance... and putting that bow to what it was meant for- a battle for a cause, a purpose more than himself. Lad's been shooting colored target boards all his life, not having to think about what it means to really use that talent where it'll matter. But alas, with his record the military wouldn't accept him. " He swirled his glass a bit, then drank again, while having a handful of nuts. He offered some to Victus, as he fell silent.
Post by Gillam Dunwall on Mar 4, 2013 22:30:11 GMT -5
Gillam entered the tavern, looking for more mercenaries. His previous attempt a few weeks ago had fallen through due to a giant bar fight, however, he had managed to acquire two willing to work. He instructed Miles and Elenwe to leave Demacia for awhile, and he figured that he would need them back rather soon.
Therefore, Gillam came to the tavern to search for more men. He immediately noticed Victus and the other man talking to him. "Greetings, Sir Brightblade. I don't mean to intrude, but I came here to look for more mercenaries." The knight glanced over to the other man. "Is this a friend of yours?" Gillam asked, inspecting the man.
"No matter the era, I am Demacian, through and through."
Post by Victus Brightblade on Mar 4, 2013 22:41:34 GMT -5
Victus reached into his coin pouch and removed a crown, tossing it towards Gregor and grabbed three of the nuts.
"I am sorry to have assumed you were a noble, the house name sounded familiar and I am not up to date on the politics. Politics are another of my dislikes. I would much rather be on the road fighting the Void than go to another Nobleman get together. I am not even a noble and am made to go to those parties to drink 500 crown wine and listen to nobles play politics. I hate wine.
There are men dying of hunger in the streets and some noble is eating on a boar that will be half uneaten and tossed into the trash. Makes me sick."
Gregor came back with a flagon of Mead and took the empty flagon and the coin away.
"Aye. My brother seemed to like the comfort of a large estate than the... wooden cabin we grew up in."
He turned to Gilliam. "Vergil Valorheart, Sergeant, Demacian Ranger corps. You must be... the Dunwall Lad." He said, the old eyes recognizing many people.
"Mercenaries, eh? Well, I've got someone in mind who needs a second chance to get his life back in order. My nephew is Valerian Valorheart- you know, the Archer? Silver medal in the nationals last year." He said morosely, wanting to focus on the achievements of his nephew rather than the scandal that surrounded him.
Valerian was moderately famous, being a big name in the sport of archery. He was a young and talented man, but had a weakness for the bottle- to the point that it ruined his life and career as an athlete in Demacia; spawning an illegitimate child and crippling a fellow athlete on the range.
"The boy needs time to become a man, time his family didn't give him."
Post by Gillam Dunwall on Mar 4, 2013 23:12:59 GMT -5
"I see... Well, he might be in danger, just letting you know. I cannot guarantee his safety, although I am sure you were already aware of that." Gillam smiled. "If you accept my offer, he needs to meet me by the gates tomorrow morning."
"No matter the era, I am Demacian, through and through."
Post by Tahlem Starr on Mar 4, 2013 23:28:21 GMT -5
Tahlem approached the the bar in his full set of armor, minis the helmet, and promptly opened the door taking a step into the relatively empty tavern today. His intent was to recruit for the military but it sure was a ghost town. He scanned the room and spotted Dunwall first.
"Sir Dunwall. I would expect you to be back at your estate and not at a lonely tavern where the "commoners" reside." He chuckled and took a seat at the bar, looking over the next man. Ah, the archer! Great shot from what he has heard through the crack shots in their ranks. Though the last man in the black armor he did not recognize. .
Then turned his head back to Gregor, picking a few coins from his pockets. " Do you serve any wine here?"
Last Edit: Mar 5, 2013 2:31:14 GMT -5 by Tahlem Starr
"That's good then. Well... It would have been nice if his employer could have shown up personally to take him from Corrections, to show the Justicars that someone is hiring him for actual work, and not just have a relative pick him up. But... I'll manage something." Vergil said, nodding to the stranger that addressed him.
Post by Victus Brightblade on Mar 5, 2013 0:44:52 GMT -5
Gregor answered the call rather quickly. He brought a bottle over to the general and a crystal chalice.
"This is the best we got in stock, sir. Vineshield Red, BLE 90. A good year for wine unlike the 91, m'lord. I save the 90 for generals and the like. The 91 I save for beggars and odd cleanings."
Post by Tahlem Starr on Mar 5, 2013 2:30:48 GMT -5
( Oh my bad Vergil, from the post i though your character was in the military o.O are you the noxus merc Vergil?)
Tahlem smiled and accepted the bottle and chalice. " Well i suppose i can spare a bit of extra coin for this.." He pulled out another handful of coins and placed them on the bar counter as a tip. He popped the cord and filled the chalice, bringing the cup to his lips for a drink. He then turned his attention to the other two patrons. Who might these two be...
" Who might you two be? General Tahlem of the Demacian military at your service. Uh, you two Mercenary's for hire?"
Last Edit: Mar 5, 2013 2:45:18 GMT -5 by Tahlem Starr
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