Upon accepting the peculiar job of retrieving elven slaves, the steward who the players negotiated with had led them back to his lord noble's estate. The man in question had fine vestments despite being a servant, decked out in all manner of finely tailored clothes. Someone with Jack's experience however would be able to recognize their true nature at a glance; while they were shiny and had all of the bells and whistles, they contributed nothing to the man's ability. Whether he were a fool or forced to dress up so finely like a clown was clear from the negotiation that had happened earlier, this man was capable but suffered from a willful boss that preferred form over function. They were led to a small estate-- while one might call it small compared to more grandiose castles it was still overly lavish with fine metals used to forge fragile gates or aesthetically pleasing fountains when they could be used for something more valuable. Truly a common 'theme' about their employer was only becoming more crystal clear as their surroundings grew more gaudy. Gwyn in particular would no doubt notice the serving girls around the gardens and estates; each of the maids had very delicate and sophisticated exteriors. Of all shapes and sizes as if the nobleman were a collector with fine tastes they each had a unique shape and appeal... If Gwyn was attentive though she'd notice they each had a blank soul-less gaze though, no doubt from years of traumatic or abusive treatment. If approached they would shy away and try their best to avoid eye contact at all, even freezing up when touched. Despite the beauty of the manner, it was sprinkled with some peculiar pieces, one that would no doubt make people question the lord's taste. There were pictures of a very fat and overweight man taking various poses. His myriad chins covering his neck as he stood on board large battleships, stepped on the corpses of monsters or brandished a sword. "The lord does enjoy fine arts..." The steward couldn't help hanging his head as if predicting the thoughts of those who would flash a glance at the pieces. 'Impossible' was no doubt the word he thought they might all be thinking simultaneously but he made a solid effort to convince them the job was worth taking. "Young noble has been very... 'distressed' lately, there were some rabble that stormed the castle to free some of our slaves. It was a very embarrassing affair, I fear young noble will not sleep soundly until they are brought to justice." He assured explaining the situation as he tried to take them to their employer. "Along with you, the Lord has hired on a specialist in this area, someone skilled with capturing lost 'assets'. I can only ask that you try your best to cooperate for this work. While the young noble has a lot of faith in this man... I feel more at ease hiring extra help." The Steward explained letting them know that if it were up to him he would have done things differently. In the end, the steward tried to stop them at a pair of double doors, behind the heavy and arrogant laughter of a middle-aged man could be heard from time to time. The steward grimaced briefly but in the end folded his hands behind his back as he gestured at the trio of hired adventurers. "Please, if you have any concerns or worries at all, allow me to address them... Please do keep them brief though, while the young noble had wanted to meet you all before setting out for the task I fear that it will only serve to be... 'unsettling'." He spoke as if struggling for the right words. Ultimately his fear that thee people would quit the job because of his lord's demeanor was evident from his hesitation alone. OOC: Please Note; Posts must be between 200 and 700 words. If a reply is not written within 24 hours you may be skipped. @Jack Anders @The Admiral @Gwyn ap Herne
Disgusting. All of this was rather disgusting. Having immediately recognized the gaudiness of the entire ordeal after inspecting the steward’s raiment, Jack let out a weary sigh while shaking his head. He’d press onward with the deal however since there seemed to be little other choice other than outright declining. Having come this far already, it wouldn’t hurt to hear the man out, right? Thankfully the steward seemed opposite to his employer, making this endeavor somewhat bearable thus far. Having entered the estate (which only served to reinforce his distaste for this particular employer), he’d send a casual glance towards The Admiral while gauging for their reaction as well. Considering how the two had signed on board together, he wouldn’t hesitate too much on hopping ship should a mutual consensus be reached. The dark haired man’s attention was quickly drawn back to the steward however as the man addressed them briefly prior to their meeting with the contractor. Eyebrow raised at the unsettling bit, Jack only let loose a soft grunt of disapproval while remaining primarily silent. Only after a moment or two of pause did he speak with a question on his mind. “Does he want these slaves back alive? Or is this just a pride thing where he needs them back - period.” Perhaps the question was a bit crass given the fabricated elegance that surrounded them… but it was a necessary one. Depending on the answer, it’d most likely affect the prioritization of mission objectives.
All of this was quite interesting to the Admiral who had recently returned from a sabbatical in the mountains where, after a disagreement with gravity, had been brought back down to earth. Literally and lethally. Upon respawning within the game, the once he now she character realized that aside from their new body being comfortable and familiar to the female player… nobody realized who she was. At least not among the non player characters, who seemed to regard her as a totally new entity within the world. Accepting this fresh start, she had set out immediately to find some sort of quest or adventure to start making a name for herself. But what kind of name? What kind indeed; the woman cared only about morality and ethics only as an aside to the larger issue of how much attention the job would net, and what the payout would be. It seemed that, in this form, the Admiral was far less jovial and much more mercenary than the prior character that had been played. It showed as they were escorted across the manor grounds, through hallways lined with elegant depictions of the lord and the heroic actions he obviously never took. She wore a serious expression tinged with the slightest bemusement, aimed in particular at Jack who wanted a great deal of “nothing” to do with this entire situation from the way he carried himself across the too-sumptuous estate of their would be benefactor. She considered calling the job off but he had not voiced actual discontent yet, and it could be a simple misunderstanding on her own part. After all, how well did she know the man? They served the same guild but he was far far above her in terms of authority within it, and they had no real rapport with one another yet. Gwyn was a slightly more familiar personage; somebody she had met and at least learned a little about in their adventure together, though they hadn’t bonded particularly closely. That older Admiral was a nuisance, and had likely put the huntress off by being an obnoxious cad. Now, she was likely to put the woman off by being militantly minded. Stopping outside the doorways that lead to the lord, the Admiral listened to Jack’s question and raised a brow, concerned with what the answer may be. Surely the lord wanted his… property… back safe and sound, so doing them untoward amounts of harm or taking their lives was out of the question! Possibly. Really it waited for the lord of the manor to state, and she had no questions to burden the manservant with. His seemingly critical view of the lord meant that either he was not truly loyal to his master, or he was testing them and would report back to his master what they said and did. Either way… she did not trust him. Smiling patiently, she merely waited to be escorted further in while Jack and Gwyn asked their questions. Hopefully there would not be many, seeing as they had much ground to cover if they wanted to get this job done, and the longer they delayed the meeting the longer slaves had to get away. Particularly when the lord was, she would bet her soul on, going to talk their damned ears off just to enjoy lording over them his power and stature. She doubted he had many friends or visitors.
At the sight of all the pomp and ridiculous bells and whistles, Gwyn fought not to find herself disgusted at it. To each thine own, but everything seemed gaudy, tacky, and horrifically faked. Nothing here seemed honest and every sight felt like a one-way mirror. Like there was something on the other side entire Other. She was here for a reason though and so she kept pace and remained with a neutral expression on her face as she followed a pace behind her party members for this little venture... though the hollow-eyed, puppet-like servants that littered the estate tested her resolve. After the first three dropped their eyes are her gaze she kept it firmly set ahead. It wouldn't do to make them even more uncomfortable. Or herself for that matter. She shook off the odd discomfort sitting on her skin that normally meant that she had lost her role as predator to something bigger in the dark of the wilds and focused on the mission. The steward spoke of lost sleep and Gwyn stifled a snort of amusement. What an absolute shame. The door before them was just another obstacle in a long line of her being too bull-headed to back down when she saw a challenge. She had no qualms facing this 'unsettling' situation and coming out the other end of it by what means she saw necessary. She did, however, note that it wasn't the best of business to go 'unsettling' ones hired help or guests before they even spoke a word. The human didn't flinch at Jack's question as callous of an answer as it could have. Instead, the blonde simply lifted a hand to wave off the steward's own. "I'm a hunter. All I require is a trail." She felt like she was going to throw up. @Jack Anders @The Admiral @Kess
The steward seemed to age a little, as if exhausted he let out a heavy sigh hearing their lack of questions only seemed to make their positions on the job more clear. In the end though, he did have to meet their expectations though. For a moment he straightened his neck piece as he spoke with the same wry tone. "The young master sees this as an issue of pride, he would have them back no matter the condition they're in after the job is done... He sees a slight against him as a slight against man kind, but I can only ask you not hold it against the young master. Once... He was a very kind and idealistic lad. Poisoned by his father's 'hobbies' and his mother's protective nature he... 'changed' as he grew older." The man explained a little hoping that these people wouldn't be too opposed to the young master they were about to meet. As if reading the group's minds though, the Steward briefly glanced at the door, those with experience or ability would be able to notice a brief change in the servant man though. In that brief glance, his subservient nature would seem to fade revealing the flicker of a retired elite, the kind who had experienced war and brutality first hand, bled and sweat with others on adventures like those the young master had art pieces of. "The young master has lived a life comforted by his status and his family, he's grown believing humans are elite and entitled--" He spoke, his sharp gaze turning towards Jack who seemed to be the most disgusted. As if trying to communicate with the man through eye contact he continued in a more hushed tone, his words very firm as they crossed his lips. "--I think... it would be healthy if the young master were to experience some 'set backs' to set him on the right path and temper his spirit." He spoke in riddles, trying to be a little cryptic with his feelings in hopes that those suspicious of him would understand his stance. As loyal as he was in supporting the noble family... Seeing them grow fat and complacent distressed him. That sharpness slowly receded though, once more adjusting his neck piece as he returned to being that wry push over of a steward he exhaled a sigh of relief after getting his hopes off of his chest. "As for the rest... I can only leave that in your capable hands. As people who have bled side by side with others as your equals, I believe you all are the best suited for this particular job." He explained reaching for the door's handle prepared. "If there are no further questions though, I'll introduce you to the young master and his chosen professional."
Calm and composed, the Admiral watched the servant's stature change and reveal the scarred visage of a warrior. It was not a look she'd seen from any combat she'd lived through in the real world, but rather a universal hollowness oh those that had at a point been broken. She'd seen it on friends. She knew its burden well. Still, none of it impacted the here and now, and it did nothing to sway her feelings towards the man at all. Whatever his purpose or motives, he had to be judged by his character and his ambitions, and it sounded to her like he aspired to harassing his master. If his master were as fat as the man in the pictures, and as lazy and useless as she expected, then any powerful choleric he would feel at being belittled and THEN kicked in the teeth? Would be enough to risk stopping his heart. It felt like the world's most off-handed assassination attempt, and as he inquired once again if they had questions, she rolled her eyes and pointed at the door he was holding. "We've asked our piece. Show us to your Lord so that we may get on with the job."
His eyes sharpening keenly, Jack would only raise an eye brow curiously at the new aura radiating from the steward. Clearly the man wasn’t a clown (despite his outfit) and had seen far more than his original appearance let onto. A slight nod of approval was made as he’d continue to listen to the stewards words with a blank expression. The old man’s next words had caught the caster a bit off guard however. He hadn’t quite expected such blatant sabotage. A wry smile crossed the dark haired support’s face as he’d shrug with a façade of helplessness at the steward’s coy words. Considering how little Jack was actually aware of the situation, it was difficult to decide much on the matter. He’d have to wait and determine the nature of the young lordling after meeting up with the man. The few words he was capable of offering however perhaps betrayed a bit more of his playful nature than need be. “It’s hard to say really. Accidents happen out on the field and nothing ever really goes according to plan. We’ll just have to see, huh?” He’d give a nod towards the other two while staring further towards the center of the estate. “Shall we?”
Gwyn tilted her head curiously, the thick mane of her ponytail pouring over her shoulder and forcing her to huff a breath to push strands from her eyes. Their kindly steward, it seemed, might have a deeper truth to him than he cared to show. It still didn't mean they could trust him, even as he shifted in tone and posture to reveal something more. It was interesting, though, she'd give him that. To be in charge of such a brat and to still be loyal... but be underhanded enough to insinuate to others that they should play their hands against him to teach him a lesson? She didn't have a problem with that. She doubted this mission in its entirety so the thought of intentionally failing it didn't necessarily turn her away in the least. She kept her gaze on the door, however, as they all spoke amongst themselves. Gwyn figured there was no use for nobles with ruined political sway like the slaves were supposedly causing in escaping, but even less power if said nobles did nothing in the first place. If their current guide was truthful in the low whispers, then perhaps she'd thought too harshly of his appearances and beseeching tone in the name of his charge. Time would tell, she guessed. There wasn't much for it at present. They still didn't have details... and still hadn't met this noble or mysterious 'expert.' No need to shove her foot in her mouth with a wrongly worded or assumptive comment. Instead she looked levelly at Jack as he spoke. "I can attest to that at least. Never know what dangers lurk here or there." She gestured to the door after a breath with a simple, "Let's." The ranger's eyes drifted back to the door at that and she pushed one fist into the palm of her other hand. The disgustingly loud pop of knuckles settled and grounded her a bit. Why the game was detailed enough to be allowing popping fluid in joints was beyond her, but she was glad she could still make use of Sabine's comforting habit. Plus, all that bullshit about it causing Arthritis was fake as fuck.
Dungeon Master The steward gauged some of their reactions, seeing some measure of willingness, the man nodded his head feeling somewhat reassured. "I fear nothing short of something drastic will have the proper impact. I can only hope that things go well." The Steward voiced with a burdened sigh before putting some force into the door. "I suppose it is time though, allow me to introduce you." He spoke pushing the doors open with a sharp movement letting them swing wide bringing silence to the room where loud oblivious laughter had been previously. Immediately the group would notice the room had a pair of people, one vaguely familiar; no doubt the young master in question. Unlike the pictures and statues, this man was clearly a touch younger, in his early 20s or perhaps a tad older. His size however was rather accurate, his round form formed almost a perfect sphere with stubby arms and legs. Much like the steward his clothing was expensive but had no value aside from comfort. Despite his somewhat bizarrely proportioned body and jiggling frame, he did have a very noble demeanor as he sat on the edge of his seat. His eyes sparkling at the other man in the room; an armored soldier, with a glass of some kind of liquor in one hand and his foot up on the furniture with an arm stretched out as if miming some kind of tale that didn't get to finish before the door was thrust open. The armored man seemed annoyed, behind his helmet, he withdrew his hand and grunted turning his gaze away from the new arrivals before bringing the glass to his lips. As if he were looking down on adventurers he didn't seem to hold this group of three in his eyes. "Young Master, I've returned with the adventurers I've recommended. Please allow me to introduce them." He spoke naming them each along with whatever credentials they might happen to have known. With each word spoken though the round man seemed more excited before bounding up to his feet from the exquisite couch he'd been resting on. Much more agile then his pudgy appearance would suggest, he rose up to greet his guests with a strange enthusiasm. "Greeting greetings heroes! I was just hearing a tale from the local Slave hunter's recent excursion, please please-- make yourselves at home." The noble spoke, glancing around intending to pull chairs over himself so they could all enjoy a sit down. Before it could go down that route though, the Steward couldn't help coughing into his hand, shooting a hateful glare at the armored hunter as he spoke. "Young master, perhaps now is not the best time, why don't you begin with your request's details." He tried to admonish the pudgy noble. For a moment the round man hesitated, but with a disheartened look he nodded. He had a strange interest in 'heroic figures' which made him so eager to hear their tales and stories over discussing matters at hand, but being brought back on track he began to narrate the details of the break in and escape. Gesturing to the nearby cage, it was large, enough to contain a bed among other things if one chose. It was the place where he'd kept the slave herself, but the cage was in horrid condition, it's frame was warped and the metal bent and torn rather then broken or cut. Portions of the carpet were ripped and torn as well, all in all it looked like a stampede had come and gone taking what was in the cage with it. "My father really treasured this girl, She was some kind of noble something or another from some place-- I forgot those details." He spoke gesturing with a hand as if the woman's identity was unimportant. After all she wasn't a human. "They went out into the woods from the estate's eastern gate."
Immediately upon being let into the next room, the Admiral let her eyes wander upon the scene and take note of the two men, the cage, the tension in the air. She did not allow her eyes to linger on the cage but instead focused entirely upon the noble who, upon gesturing them over, she approached five paces and knelt on the ground with one knee, resting an arm across it and bowing her head for a moment. She remained kneeling but, after a respectful period of three seconds, raised her eyes to the nobleman again and regarded him intently as he and the steward exchanged words. She did not let her eyes even flicker to the "professional" who was propping his boots up on the noble's furniture. Did not humor the man with even a hateful glance in his direction, to let him know that he was beneath her notice and that he did not impress. It was the most calculate insult she could give in the presence of the nobleman; to steal the lard filled youth's affection by being a meek and humble servant and soldier, appealing to his hubris... while the professional sat there and thought so highly of himself. She wanted to kick his teeth in and break that waving arm, but she swallowed such thoughts and kept herself composed, patient, and in control. Not even a hint of malice, not even a glint in the eye. She listened carefully to the very brief... debriefing. Was it really that cut and dry? She had expected so much more. But she kept the relief of not having to put up with noble speeches off of her face and, without even glancing a second time at the wreckage as he spoke of what had happened. Her eyes instead remained fixed upon his shoulders- high enough that it was clear he had her undivided attention. But not looking over his head, or into his eyes, to disrespect his "lofty position" that he held. It was all butter for his bread, to get him on their side. And it probably did not hurt that she was, she felt, rocking it in the looks department with her new avatar. "I myself have many-a story to share with you, my liege, but duty comes before the honor and pleasure of your company. Did she release herself, or did a force break in to release her?" she questioned the nobleman, her voice hopefully sounding silky but subservient. The doting and loyal dog, panting at the foot of her master, waiting for orders. "Would there be an image of her available so that we know who to look for? A name, and any distinguishing features such as scars or birthmarks to tell her apart from others? Did she ever speak of home, places she might go, people she might return to?" She kept her voice low and calm and dulcet, asking questions they should have been told immediately as if it had been his idea to bring them up in the first place, so as not to rub in his face how incompetent he was being. She hoped that Jack and Gwyn would stomach this long enough for them to move forwards with the mission... but Gwyn was not cut from a cloth that bowed to the wind, and Jack was a lofty enough man himself that he would not stoop to another without ample reason. So it fell to her to fall to knee, and beg and scrape for the lord's favor, to win him over to their side. Such was the price of duty.
It seemed a bit counterintuitive to say the least. Considering the former slave’s status and how treasured his father deemed the girl, the young lordling kept her in rather impoverish conditions. Between the ruined bedding and carpets, it was almost as if the youth had been keeping a wild beast of sorts rather than an actual fellow humanoid. It was a bit self-demeaning of the young master to be honest, ruining his own appearances by retaining such lowly standards within his own estate. If anything, it would’ve been more appropriate to elevate his slave to a higher standard of living to convey the idea that he was an even higher tier above that. Rather than nitpicking at the details (or the lack thereof) however, the dark haired support would continue standing further back while letting The Admiral press for further information. Instead, he’d continue carefully gazing at the slave hunter with an eye for scrutiny. Considering how this last minute addition would be tagging along, it’d be best to glean the man’s demeanor, habits and preferences if possible. Perhaps he did look down on their lot due to a difference in mentality or status, but that didn’t change the fact that they were still on a job. In his experience nobody refused healing when in dire straits. Nobody.
Gwyn entered with the others, eyes immediately drawn to the gilded cage, but she forced them to the noble and the so-called expert. Both seemed roughly what she had been led to expect. They spoke of reading books and covers, but she couldn't imagine anything deeper to these people and their ilk. Perhaps the Steward, but the huntress didn't hold those that lived lies in high regard. Or were content to hide parts of themselves away to bend their necks under someone else's boot. To each thine own, though. Introductions were made and she dipped her head slightly in the direction of the noble, but she found her gaze landing on the cage in a mixture of muted horror and interest. She wasn't the only one if the direction of Jack's attention meant anything. The Admiral started up some silver-tongued thing and she was content to let her take point. It turned her stomach a little, but The Admiral was smart and Gwyn had yet to know her or her masculine predecessor to be immeasurable foul by any means. Of course, this game was getting rather good at souring the good things she found in it. As she spoke, Gwyn drifted closer to the cage, but not far enough away from their small group to isolate. Even with the unknown positions of the other two players, there was strength and safety in numbers and she knew enough about pack mentalities to have some relative trust in their intentions. Some. She listened curiously for the answers to the questions posed and indulged in looking over the cage. She'd not put overmuch into her Hunting skill yet, but between the game's help and her actual experience in the waking world she wondered idly if she'd spot something gone amiss in the damage. The bent bars and torn fabric seemed far more feral than any humanoid race should be capable of?
The Noble wouldn't hesitate to puff out his chest at the brown-nosing, despite it being near indistinguishable from his belly with his pudgy frame, he still felt proud being praised and bowed to. However unfortunate though, after a brief moment of internal self-praise, he'd reach out to the admiral and try to lift her up with a gentle hand. Despite his size and off putting appearance, he still had some shreds of magnanimity that flashed from time to time. "No no need to be so humble dear heroes, truly you all will be the legends of your time! I myself understand that even if I might have noble blood, the heroic epics you all will experience will no doubt be much more impactful." He spoke with a longing sigh, it was somewhat clear he'd already given up on being an upstanding noble to some extent. It was evident from his lack of care when it came to his estate that was gaudy in some places but had cages with rags. Living as he pleased, wasting away, he had no motivation to change. The armored man Jack was observing however wasn't that difficult to see through. His armored body was function over form basis, armed to the teeth with high quality weapons and tools. His versatile choice of tool however suggested that he cared less for technique but more for overpowering his prey. His senses however were sharp enough to feel Jack's eyes and scrutiny. Glancing back at the man observing him, for a moment, the man perked a brow, as if amused, but after giving Jack the same glance he was receiving the man flashed a mocking grin. As if having measured the man and found him lacking, the armored professional didn't invest much attention in him any more returning his gaze to the noble who was repeating a story he no doubt heard out already. "I'm afraid... I was a little indisposed while the attack happened-- Haha... It was so sudden I could only hear the sounds of the damage being done before finding things in this condition soon after." He tried to explain, but his response was a little shady. Anyone with even a hint of talent for seeing through clear lies would probably recognize at a glance that the reason the young noble couldn't answer was because he'd hidden and didn't dare to investigate until it was already over. Gwyn's observations however, despite her ability, would be a bit flawed due to distraction. She would be a able to notice that whatever it was had entered from the outside and forced it's way in before ripping the cage open rather then the other way around. As if the slave had been captured by a third party for some reason. Beyond that, the identity of the assailant was certainly not human, it no doubt featured sharpened and lethal claws as well as a vicious and feral strength, but beyond that any identifying clues that could further illuminate the nature of the creature was difficult to discern with so much going on around her.
