• Graded • Lemon Tree Co. (Noth)

Cutting Out A Piece Of The Pie

With the escalation of hostilities between Etzos and Rhakros, a series of small walled towns is being established as a network of early warnings and defenses against Rhakros' reprisals. Only the very bravest and most formidable of characters should risk themselves on the Witches' Wilds frontier.

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Vorval
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Lemon Tree Co. (Noth)

65th Of Zida 171

Vorval was still doing his mercenary thang, despite walking off Sons Of Justice. Miss O'Connor had made things abundantly clear, and hed be happy to oblige the request however the real test would be resisting the urge to go balls deep in the underworld when he flirted with the shade as a free lancer. They say the road to damnation is paved in good intentions and he was just minding his business. Hed left his tabards behind, and now walked the streets as his own boss. Hed taken time to understand the inner workings of his former employers business, the cogs and gears that made it run and what the service was that they were in fact providing and why they were providing it.

Vorval probably understood the business and what it actually took to run it more efficiently than most, if he followed the money past Miss O'Connor hed come to find that the nels were coming from the government. Hed begun theory crafting with tactics how to expand his venture even if he was just in the beginnings of getting it up and going. Papper work, was piling up in his room scribblings on the back of leaflets and wanted posters as he couldnt afford parchment.

He made his way down the road to Sunny Slope just to check things out. He was going to have himself a drink as Luwellyn hit the bed. He was by himself, despite not having a tabard he was still geared up for combat and understood that while they were acting as a make shift civilian police force they were not in any jurisdiction to be the law. There power came from ignorance of the law, and intimidation and while he did not readily dismiss the tactic as sleezy he wouldnt be unobligated to take advantage of it either.

He was drinking the one golden nel he could spare, on piss warm beer. Vorval was thinking about how to build the enterprise and suckle on those government subsidies. He understood where the money was coming from, but how could he get his cut that was the question.

He stroked his beard as he put his enterprising mind to work, it was about territory. If he took the turf outside turkeys domain he could forge his own little throne, theyd been working as a monopoly with very little resistance up until now perhaps it was time to shake there foundation and see how stable it really was.

The idea was simple, a little friendly business competition. Where they were having problems theyd take over, the business strategy he was formulating would revolve around Sons Of Justice reneging the bounty and losing face to the public. But then who should rise from the ashes The Lemon Tree Inc, when life gives you lemons make lemonade.

Hed have his choice of high quality mercenaries, with an ax to grind on the competition. Itd be a mess and heads would roll. Who would the grand marshal want? Some bums in armor ? Or real hard boiled motherfuckers? Lotharo from Gaunthrel? Who knew, but he understood that the ten thousand nel bounty was a blunder. And hed be waiting to cash in on the other side, who knew maybe ol Miss O'Connor and Gangui would come crawling to The Lemon Tree.

He was deep in thought strategizing his venture.
Last edited by Vorval on Tue Feb 06, 2018 1:02 pm, edited 3 times in total. word count: 568
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Noth, though he had never run his own business, did have a certain appreciation for the amount of effort that went into making one run efficiently and effectively. He did not understand all of the subtle intricacies of business and finance, or necessarily even the economics behind the system which allowed businesses to flourish, but he could certainly tell the difference between an establishment that was running well, and one which looked as though it would suddenly plummet into oblivion the instant that it ran into even the slightest hint of tribulation.

One form of business that he had run across fairly often in his many trials had been that of mercenary corporations. He had never grown quite as polarized as others on the nature of mercenaries; that is, he neither enjoyed their company greatly, nor found them to be utterly repulsive because of their insistence on fighting only for payment. He appreciated that they were easy to understand, that it did not take much effort to understand the motivations of a mercenary, and because of that relative ease, it was easy enough to recruit them to one’s side, especially when they were fairly morally bankrupt. On the other hand, the lack of ulterior purpose typically made mercenaries rather unreliable, and the fact of the matter was that most of the opponents that he would inevitably be facing, especially the more established city-states would be more than capable of out buying the mercenaries from his service.

The recent events involving the aspiring Turkey Company had managed to sour him somewhat to the entire concept of mercenaries, but he was not so frustrated that he didn’t see the reasonableness behind acquiring his own fighting force in the future. In fact, there had been times when he had considered simply starting his own enterprise to act as a cover and funnel further funding into Al’Angyryl’s coffers. That seemed to be a fairly easy business venture, especially since they were typically the persons involved in frustrating the efforts of caravans and mercantile groups in the first place, which meant that their work would be remarkably simple. The only thing that would need to be done to retrieve pay would be to halt their attacks on the caravans under their protection, and perhaps occasionally create a mock battle to throw off any suspicious persons.

Admittedly, he wasn’t sure if he trusted only himself to run such an enterprise. He had never truly gone into depth attempting to understand the mercenary lifestyle, and beyond a basic understanding of the business itself, he wasn’t entirely sure of the standard practices, rates, or equipment that would be necessary. Thankfully, the recent issues deriving from Padfoot’s mutant plague, the piratical voyages at sea, and perhaps even his own bounty had done their parts in gathering together a fair collective of mercenaries and other soldiers-for-hire, and it seemed quite possible that he might simply hire one of these to take over the enterprise for him, receiving the financial support necessary to start their venture with the addendum that they send a percentage of their earnings back to their silent benefactors.

Who knew, if he ensured that the group itself was fairly beneficial to the local persons, and made certain that they acted in a moderately heroic fashion, they might even replace Turkey Company as the most chivalrous of groups. Noth personally didn’t care much for the aspirations of such moral bindings, but he did understand public opinion well enough to recognize that the commendation of such a beloved organization unto him would assist quite handily when it came time to take power.

Thoughts such as these flickered through the hybrid’s mind as he meandered through the underground, hearing brief conversation from his soldiers about visiting a local tavern, and deciding that it might be a fair idea to relax his mind and scour the place to see if he might find the services he required. Without a second thought, he would double-check his armament, and leave with the crew.

word count: 683
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As a note: Noth is a Grandmaster in Intimidation. That means that he's at least as scary as the Count from Sesame Street. Beware.

"The tyrant confuses those he can't convince, corrupts those he can't confuse, and crushes those he can't corrupt." - Anonymous
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Cloud-swept winter skies ensured the air to be crisp and cold that fateful day. Thick fog had rolled in from the ocean, enveloping Sunnyslope with a misty presence. An ominous and terrible spirit it seemed to the superstitious like Gangui. Many out there in Idalos called this blanket of mist, the fog of war. Under the guise of this watery shroud the most heinous acts would be committed, offering shelter from the eyes of one’s enemies.

It was a fine day to do battle.

Gangui geared up and entered the field with a pep in his step. Metallic men of blood and iron rode through the streets mounted upon horseback. He knew this would be an excellent confrontation. Bringing justice to the land was the best part of his job, when he didn’t have to deal with the people higher than him on the social hierarchy nagging down his throat with straight bullshit.

Despite his disdain for ‘government’ at the moment, it was a necessary evil that had allowed the little bureaucrat woman to inform the righteous mustachio about Vorval. Several days previous, the once loyal Vorval had evolved himself into the leader of a rival group called the Lemon Tree Co.

Gangui was totally empathetic towards his former comrade. Friendly competition was supposed to be the heartblood of Etzori culture, or at least that was the conservative viewpoint. In the spirit of three-eighty-three, the righteous mustachio cared not for the former man starting his own service.

There was a huge problem though.

Vorval had broken the law. He broke his contract by not remaining loyal to the Sons of Justice for an entire arc. That was the crux of the dispute. And despite his angry emotions, Gangui would remain stoic in the noble ways that were the foundation principles of Turkey Co. They would bring Vorval before a judge, rather than seeking the path of revenge murder.

May justice’s hammer fall upon the head of the wicked!

None could pinpoint the truth nowadays. Not in Etzos anymore. And this was a huge problem. Heretics were heroes and the heroes heretics. It was all backwards and no one seemed to understand exactly what was going on with them. Vorval had openly claimed that he was smarter than Gangui in business. That was how he recruited the Lemon Tree Men.

=====================================================================

“If you are so good at business Vorval, why don’t you come out and answer for the red in your ledgerl!” Gangui yelled at the base of the misbegotten hill that was know as ‘Sunnyslope’. Turkey company formed in a tight line, ready to charge on a moment’s notice. They could hardly see a stone’s throw in front of them, but his loud clear voice echoed for all the hear.

“Vorval I demand justice!” He bellowed and waited patiently.

Nothing.

It would take some time for him to show up and knowing nothing better to do, the leader of the Son’s of Justice went on one of his signature tyraids as he waited.

“I am not a coward! You’re a coward! I know what’s a stake here. You don’t. I know what it is that we are fighting for. You don’t. You spit in my face ” His voice full of gravel and wrathful passion.

“You think you can judge Etzori law!? You think you can fuck the system?! Well you are getting what you asked for! You don’t have to wait any longer! What you asked for is at the door scratching! So open the door and prepare to meet your destiny! " The fire burned brightly in his commanding shouts. His gravelly voice carrying far around for all to hear. The courage of the men around him seemed to bolster a bit.

The horse under him brayed in excitement and turned in a circle, “We are going to give you everything you ever wanted ! All the pain, all the war, all the humiliation!”

“All of it will now be yours!” His voice clear above the rising din as spectators began to form at safe distances.

“Hell is coming!”
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Vorval
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Signature tirade indeed the wind bag blustered more hot air then a bad day in saun. Vorval still had some beer in his mug and this ninny could wait, as he sat there he refused to let it slide and walk away by absconding through the back door. he was still pissed about being called out on his own ledger he let it fester awhile let it ferment and blossom into something special as he let that wind bag keep preaching he wondered if he really believed his own bullshit.

Down to the last drop most likely.

He left the mug put his gold piece on the counter and collected his helmet. As he put it on the man was still talking, he must of thought he was going to go rampaging in the street like an idiot. No hed force turkey to rush into the bar for him, he wanted his mercenary company to overstep there bounds as they walked the streets with impunity with there charade of rightous violence. They simply did not have the authority, or else it would be the black guard dragging him out.

" Remember this patrons, If this man had the Authenticity he claims why is it hes funded by the black guard? Miss O Connor pays there wages! This is a free port, yet the black guard want to steal your freedom under the guise of a turkey!. Etzori law is whatever he makes it out to be!"

Helmet was put on, shield strap wiggled off his shoulder as he began fastening the leather straps to his wrist. He fancied his last stand bottlenecking them in the the small hallway entrance to the bar. Nice and tight, just how he liked it.

Gladius in hand as he withdrew it from his sheath he figured why not to hell with tactics, if he was to die hed make a mockery of the man as he foolishly stepped out outside into the streets of sunny slope where hed give this man a nice tall glass of shut the fuck up. He didnt have the resistance to drink, and there was fire in his belly as he left what safety he had it was presumably the best defensive positioning he could ask for given the situation, a tactic that could have left Ganguis superior numbers irrelevant as theyd be forced in there one or two at a time even in a straight line.

No he had a point to make!

"Do you ever shut up man, your worse then a nagging hag?!!! "

Under whos Authority are you taking me in? The black guard? Sounds like your worried about business competition to me.

Not afraid? Im the coward?

How many men you bring to deal with me in your personal charade.

Its just me sweet pea, lets see you climb off that high horse of yours and settle this like a man.

My name has been besmirched,
I demand satisfaction.
I challenge you to a duel to the death sir.

Or have you no honor you shameless courtesan spreading your legs to black guard subsidies in the name of alleged justice? I bet Miss O Connor gives you the Sunny D, and stuffs you like the turkey you are!"


Vorval spoke loud enough for those in the sunnyslope audience to hear waiting for his answer. He expected him to bullshit his way out of it with Rhetoric, and twist and bend justice to suit his needs much like his whiskers. But that was beyond the point people were gathering and watching. Hed been caught off guard he should have stayed low until hed earned the coins for the papperwork after all justice was different when you had money but it was to late hed been caught with his pants down, but being the narcissist he was hed burn it publicly before he met his makers Hoozah.
word count: 649
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Tired off all of Vorval’s bullshit, Gangui dismounted his horse swiftly. The wretched onlookers of the scum class surrounding the scene, all of them, he didn’t care about them anymore.

Vorval took the justice oath. Vorval signed the contract. Vorval heard Gangui speak.

If he couldn’t understand, then he had no business living. The perception he wove about Gangui was not reality. The mustachio spoke the truth, even when it made sense to NONE in Etzos. A simple lack of Wisdom he supposed.

Displaying his steely weapon to the enemy, he wasted no more time proceeding. Bounding forward in rigid flow, he held his sword low and at his side. Timing his throw, Gangui stepped into his charge cutting directly and openly.

Of course, Vorval duct and raised his shield, taking no accountability for his actions.

Using the momentum he had started, he swung back around bringing his sword down as a hammer upon the man’s front.

The horses around them began to quiver, but the Turkey men did not interrupt. They left this decision to steel’s fate.

Again and again he chopped with his steely blade. Again and again Vorval weaved and block and duct. Again and again steel rattled on steel.

Breathing deep Gangui back up again, mustering more strength while Vorval collected his wits.

It was all over!

Throwing the weapon to his one hand, Gangui brought his weapon down on the left and grasped the shield of the traitor on his right.

“Hiyah!” He ripped the shield off his arm in several jerks.

He flung it behind him and back pedalled directly into a stance.

There would be no monologues.

No words.

Not even a reprise.

“HiyaAH!” Trusting a heavy pierce, he used all his energy.

Shhhinkkk

“AHHHHHH!”

A grunt.

Thump

Directly through the visor and into the mouth. The crushing noise of the jaw splintering into a thousand pieces. Blood leaked out of the helmet like a sublime bubble from the fountain of life as it gushed forth from the corpse staining the ground before them with it’s vile essence

“HIYAAAAAAH!”

Vorval was dead.
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Vorval
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Lemon Tree Co. (Noth)

Without a doubt Vorval was drunk and acted as if his coin sack dragged on the pavement. Genuinly surprised that Gangui accepted the challenge, as he dismounted he steed for the gentlemanly exchanges of steely blades.

Hed done did it to himself, as he staked his honor.

Hed been doing well at first, moving catching movements with his gladius and swashbuckling with his shield. But the skill difference was to great.

As his shield had been ripped from his arm, he couldnt help but think that maybe he should have buckled up.

He kept a steady pace moving swinging, but it was woefully apparent without his shield the short sword had serious set backs not being able to block and counter. And not enough length to reach his foe.

When his blade met his face it drove though his mouth as he swallowed the razors edge. It was a mortal wound for sure as he twisted, the edges not only pried and dislocated his jaw but also shaved teeth from his gums in one fell swoop, his passing was not instantaneous as he was conscious as the blade slid free. And he plopped on the ground bleeding out, but it was suffocation that would do him in and he coughed and hacked mists of blood as his were filling with the sanguine nectar of life.

His hand trembling fueled on adrenaline and nerves staggered upward, as his hand balled into a fist and but one middle finger broke free from his grasp and he displayed it till the strength in his body escaped him.

In his final moments, if he could smile he would as he felt the chill of death as silence washed over him. Jubilation for a man that had escaped death once on the mountain

His final thought to make him smile you might ask?

Hed never have to hear the mans long winded saber rattling tirades again. He would experience a freedom that those in Etzos never would.

Silence, as he rest.
word count: 336
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Opportunity rarely reared its ugly head at the most opportune of moments. Rather, it had the terrible affectation for appearing at times when a person was unprepared, when they weren’t entirely set to face it, when they were at their worst. Thankfully, it seemed as though the Fates or whatever other force dictated such efforts of probability and chance had determined to grant the twilight hybrid a fairly benign opportunity, one that did not reek with the scent of hurriedness nor of potentially bitter repercussions.

It seemed as though the tavern that he and his comrades had gone to visit had promptly received a visit from an unknown person and his band of gallivanting stallions upon whom rode several soldiers of what could only be the infamous Turkey Company. Their leader; a man that Noth recognized after a few trills of observation, quickly went through the effort of decrying a person within the tavern, accusing them of this and that, and before long the two had begun to engage in martial combat. It seemed ridiculous to the hybrid that someone would be killed for something as petty as breaking a minor contract of servitude, though he supposed he had technically engaged in behavior that was not altogether dissimilar. Mind you, the difference was that he recognized he was on the side of the wicked and the traitorous, and so it was a necessary approach for dealing with traitors. Gangui on the other hand seemed to have decided that the disproportionate punishment of death suited those who disagreed with him on such trivial matters as contractual obligation.

From within the tavern, the Prince of Eternal Mercies continued to peer, his vision rapt upon the minor conflict unfolding outside. It had long been brought to his attention that Gangui and his Turkey Company had been attempting to make things more difficult for him in the form of a bounty, and what he could only presume had been other operations against his own. That made him an enemy, and the twilight hybrid had long since discovered that the easiest way of eliminating an enemy was to simply slay them. Though their forces were roughly equal in number, Noth didn’t particularly like the odds of having his unmounted soldiers fight against those upon horseback, even if they likely had received more overall combat training than their opponents.

The Avriel strode forth from the tavern into plain view, gazing briefly down at the stilled form of Gangui’s lost opponent. His hand instinctively clutched at his mace, rattling briefly against the armor which he wore across his entire form. Crimson eyes blazed from behind a metallic armet, analyzing the foe for any hint as to how he might react.

“Gangui, it’s been some time. I see you’ve gone beyond simply robbing corpses to making your own. Quite the employment shift.” He tsked briefly before continuing, “I’ve heard that you’ve been causing quite a good deal of trouble for my people and I. That was a mistake.” He inflected his voice with as much threatening gravitas as he was capable, the sound coming out akin to a bestial growl, one which he observed caused more than a couple of flinches among the onlookers.

word count: 543
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Credit to Pegasus


As a note: Noth is a Grandmaster in Intimidation. That means that he's at least as scary as the Count from Sesame Street. Beware.

"The tyrant confuses those he can't convince, corrupts those he can't confuse, and crushes those he can't corrupt." - Anonymous
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Through the fog of war, the sight of an evil entity come into view. Each metallic step the creature made towards them brought with it the feeling of remorse and pain. It was an armored demon, a nightmare from the imagination. The rotting smell of its body swept through the scene like a slow creeping death.

The shadow of the being was hatred itself; Hatred in the form of one devilish wing. A testament to the creatures lack of freedom. His inherent shackle to the dark side.

The warrior took it all in and felt the fear in his heart. Every last memory in his short life was forgotten. Everything was here and now.

"You..."

Other than the fact he knew him as an enemy of the free market, the warrior had nothing else to say.

As the masked villain approached, the warrior remained motionless. He needed to take everything in. Completely unaware of the dark knight's creeping miasma, he embraced his own death on the horizon.

Traitors blood still stained the steel blade when he finally prepared himself. Lifting his sword up over his head, he taken care to point the blade at the demon's heart. If this is where he died-- so be it! The fear in his soul was great, but his steely nerves did not tremble.

Struct in terror, he waited for the demonic presence to make it's move. He drowned out all the people, all the buildings, everything except the bird man's evil eyes. There was no choice now except to go heads with it.
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There was always a moment of nigh palpable tension that beset all sides right before combat began. Perhaps it was a leftover of primordial anxiety inset within their very makeup, or perhaps it was simply the logical acknowledgement of danger which prevented instantaneous action regardless of intent. In the end, it didn’t really change much, and the twilight hybrid knew that as much as anyone. A feathered hand took hold of his mace, testing its weight for several trills as he steadily began to approach the figure before him.

He seemed frightened, as though the mere presence of the monstrous creature before him was enough to send him into a shock; as it rightfully should, considered the murderous Avriel as he continued stepping forth, the metallic plate which covered nearly every portion of his body rattling with a threatening intensity, the noise that a viper made before it struck emulated by a humanoid figure as it drew ever nearer to inflicting its venomous bite.

When at last he had managed to close to what he perceived to be a proper distance, his otherwise melancholic walk suddenly became a burst of movement, highlighted by the rapid and explosive movement of his sole wing. The black and feathered appendage snapped out like a blade, the additional force lashing him forward far harsher than a human might manage, and it became apparent that he did not intend to strike with his mace so much as simply ram directly into his foe in an effort to thrust him back to the dirt.

word count: 259
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As a note: Noth is a Grandmaster in Intimidation. That means that he's at least as scary as the Count from Sesame Street. Beware.

"The tyrant confuses those he can't convince, corrupts those he can't confuse, and crushes those he can't corrupt." - Anonymous
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The demon did not falter a single step in his fearless attack. He rushed at Gangui after getting into his battle rhythm. He brandish a mace in his hand, but threw his body at the mustachio instead. Overwhelmed by the initial fear that had swept through his nerves, the turkey stood stone like in his tracks, allowing the turgid demon to slam his body without any resistance.

Immediately the wind left his lungs and his knees buckled as he folded under the avriel's brutal charge. The creature's take down was ugly, but effective. There was no grace involved, just raw shadowy power. The feathers from the enemies' black wing flooded his vision for a moment, buffeting across his head in the tumble. Gangui screamed and dropped his bastard sword in the process.

The demon's bounding tackle finally rolled to a conclusion, leaving Gangui fully mounted by Noth for the ground and pound. Suddenly, like a grizzly bear being awakened from it's slumber, the mustachio was gifted with a rush of adrenaline along with a deep breath of air. Rage filled his eyes and the crippling fear turned into the dramatic survival instincts. Drawing the dagger at his waist, he would attempt to stab Noth through the narrow slit in his visor.

Loosing all his barrings due to the tyrants charge, his entire effort was pure will now. He would attempt to block any assault with his other hand. At this point in time, it was do or die and Gangui would fight until the end.

They stared each other in the eyes, "Aghhhhhhh..." the human grunted in the resulting struggle.
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