Reviewer's note -- We're letting each other control each other's characters for purposes of better flow when writing. This is not god-mode.
Vhalar 10, 717
It was a hot day in the Landing. Maybe it was because the breeze didn’t touch the part of town the warrior was now traversing. He had found himself, quite against his nature, walking through Sunnyslope. It was a hill on the outskirts of the port town. The place all the drug addled and criminal types went in order to find safe haven from the mighty arm of the state. These people served a purpose and were allowed to exist on the forlorn hill. They mostly tended to the swine herds, the garbage depots, and did the dangerous sewage jobs. And yes. The place smelled like shit. Gangui hated it. He had fought hard and toiled endlessly to have a place at the patriot’s bar.
But he had no choice. He needed help to find Ellen’wyn’s necklace.
He approached The Goldmine, a nefarious pub that was entrenched into the side of the hill. A whispering rumor sent him here, but he had absolutely no clue what this places story was. He needed something to work off of before entering the ominious looking wooden door carved out of the stone.
Stopping a random passerbyer, the armored mercenary stopped him with a glance, “Hear, hear,” He bellowed, “I am looking for The Goldmine,” he knew that it was the door in front of him, but a sinking fear of such a lowlife establishment beckoned a little social reinforcement.
The scallywag’s face seemed uninterested at first but the miserable lout that decided to grasp at his shirt had it coming. Almost pompously he drew a fist up to knock back the grasp of his shirt, a defiant look in his eyes as he took a few steps back in slight rage. “Try that again you sorry Fod-sack!”
Remembering his etiquette, the warrior took a step back and raised his arms, “Excuse me, my fault,”
It wasn’t like the little shrimp of a man would be able to hurt him anyways.
Vhalar 10, 717
It was a hot day in the Landing. Maybe it was because the breeze didn’t touch the part of town the warrior was now traversing. He had found himself, quite against his nature, walking through Sunnyslope. It was a hill on the outskirts of the port town. The place all the drug addled and criminal types went in order to find safe haven from the mighty arm of the state. These people served a purpose and were allowed to exist on the forlorn hill. They mostly tended to the swine herds, the garbage depots, and did the dangerous sewage jobs. And yes. The place smelled like shit. Gangui hated it. He had fought hard and toiled endlessly to have a place at the patriot’s bar.
But he had no choice. He needed help to find Ellen’wyn’s necklace.
He approached The Goldmine, a nefarious pub that was entrenched into the side of the hill. A whispering rumor sent him here, but he had absolutely no clue what this places story was. He needed something to work off of before entering the ominious looking wooden door carved out of the stone.
Stopping a random passerbyer, the armored mercenary stopped him with a glance, “Hear, hear,” He bellowed, “I am looking for The Goldmine,” he knew that it was the door in front of him, but a sinking fear of such a lowlife establishment beckoned a little social reinforcement.
The scallywag’s face seemed uninterested at first but the miserable lout that decided to grasp at his shirt had it coming. Almost pompously he drew a fist up to knock back the grasp of his shirt, a defiant look in his eyes as he took a few steps back in slight rage. “Try that again you sorry Fod-sack!”
Remembering his etiquette, the warrior took a step back and raised his arms, “Excuse me, my fault,”
It wasn’t like the little shrimp of a man would be able to hurt him anyways.