|
Post by Thane on Jul 8, 2008 17:05:24 GMT -6
Thane watches Lysandor and the little demoness with a mild amusement. He would laugh out loud if he weren't so freakin' uncomfortable in the saddle making his tail sore. Instead he sighs and waits impatiently to see what will transpire between the two. He grumbles to himself as he stands up in his stirrups to take the weight off his aching rear end.
|
|
|
Post by Lysandor on Jul 9, 2008 12:26:00 GMT -6
Rather than discomfort, amusement flickers across Lysandor's sterling gaze and the corners of his mouth quirk slightly.
"I gave you the crossbow you have and the knowledge of how to use it," he replies. "After nearly shooting me, you showed a great deal of promise with it."
He stays where he's standing, watching the Demonling, and fully aware of Thane's amusement at his expense.
|
|
|
Post by Narrator on Jul 9, 2008 16:22:27 GMT -6
The little demon motions for Lysandor to approach her. She lowers the crossbow and shakes her head to Lysandor. "Well I see you choice of company still requires some getting used to." She says as she hugs Lysandor's leg and nods toward Thane.
Her camels continue to bray and she shushes them and they obey instantly. She playfully punches Lysandor's leg as she looks up to him with a snarl showing her pointed little teeth. "Did I not tell you you are only as good as the folks you hang with? Or do you simply choose to ignore a pound worth of free advice... huh? Maybe you'd finally pay attention if I actually started charging you for it. Come sit, eat... I hope your diet has improved over the creepy crawlies you seem to prefer over real food. No wonder you are so skinny...sheesh." and she scurries off to her little dutch oven suspended over the fire.
|
|
|
Post by Lysandor on Jul 10, 2008 10:05:04 GMT -6
"My company has improved from blackguards and brigands, as it seems your's has as well," Lysandor replies, quirking his eyebrow at her slightly. "My companion is Master Thane of the Elite, and not some back alley mercenary." The Fallen turns to Thane and motions to the Demonling. "Master Thane, this is an old friend of mine. Pascha knew me when I was still selling my services and loyalty as a mercenary." He doesn't allow Thane to let that bit of information sink in before turning back to the demoness. "If you still make campfire stew as I remember, you may yet find a way to my blackened heart, though I think you will find an easier time with Master Thane in that respect."
|
|
|
Post by Thane on Jul 10, 2008 12:56:16 GMT -6
The brash hound no longer waits for invitation to dismount and he leaps to the sand with a look of relief on his face. He makes his way to Lucian's face and he pets the newt softly as he listens to Lysandor and Pascha. "So it appears you two know eachother then? Fancy that... meeting up with -old friends- in these endless miles of wide open desert. Quite the mighty coincidence, wouldn't you say Master Lysandor?"
Thane's words are meant as warning for Lysandor to stay alert. Such coincidences are rarely other than the design of dark alterer motives.
|
|
|
Post by Lysandor on Jul 12, 2008 9:09:05 GMT -6
Lysandor's eyes flick to Thane's, letting the hound know that he isn't alone in his thoughts. Still, the Fallen follows the Demonling woman, seemingly relaxed and at ease.
|
|
|
Post by Narrator on Jul 13, 2008 12:02:35 GMT -6
The thin little demonling places her crossbow beside her as she faces Lysandor and Thane as she opens the kettle over the fire. Pleasant aromas fill the encampment as she stirs the thick stew with an old iron spoon. Pascha sips the contents and smirks a bit... "Something missing... herm..." she mutters as she scampers off to the wagon. She emerges with a can of spice and dashes it once... twice... then stirs again for a taste. "Ahh much better." She says with a full grin and closes the pot again to simmer as she scoots it to the side of the flames.
"It is almost ready, why don't you remove the tack from your newts and let them rest unencumbered. The Stew will be ready by the time you come back. Work up a big appetite. *sigh* It appears I have made too much for myself yet again." She says with a wink to the fallen soldier.
|
|
|
Post by Thane on Jul 17, 2008 12:13:27 GMT -6
Thane wastes no time settling his supplies and untacking the Newt. He keeps everything in a tidy order just in case he must saddle up the newt quickly. He sets up his personal supplies next to the rock for easy access and his arsenal of weapons are at the ready if he must defend the camp.
Thane looks to Lysandor and he speaks softly, "This is a bit too cozy for me. I'll be watching your back very closely, if she tries any funny stuff... be ready to duck for cover. I won't have anyone or anything interfere with our mission for the Chancellor." Thane says with a very serious flare in his eyes.
At that he nods as his tail flicks side to side. He takes his food bowl out of his pack and looks toward Pasha and the stew pot. "Smells good, I hope it tastes even better."
|
|
|
Post by Lysandor on Jul 17, 2008 21:34:08 GMT -6
Lysandor unpacks his Newt as well, everything as neat and orderly as Thane's. He looks to the Rachet and nods.
"I agree with you," he murmurs. "It seems too convienent. I have not seen her in over a century..."
He walks to the camp and settles across the fire from the Demonling woman. Any suspicioun or concern he might have is hidden as he looks over the stew pot.
"How have you been keeping yourself?" he asks as he lets his gaze wander around the camp.
|
|
|
Post by Thane on Jul 18, 2008 11:02:22 GMT -6
Thane approaches the Demonling with a look of hunger allover his wolfie face. He licks his chops and he holds out his great bowl. "It is gracious of you to share your camp with us. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Thane, elder son of Daden. It is an honor to meet you. Any friend of Master Lysandor's is a friend of mine." He says trying to look friendly and even gives her a small smile, all be it without too much teeth so as not to startle their host.
|
|
|
Post by Narrator on Jul 18, 2008 11:38:46 GMT -6
Pasha's eyes widen to Thane as the hound approaches. She looks uncomfortable as his looks suggest she to may be on the menu as well as the stew. She dips the ladle into he pot and serves up the hound a good serving so subdue his appetite.
"Well Lysie, since we parted ways, I've been making my living selling legitimate goods at the bizarre and merchant tables of the towns and cites... of the outland... to whoever will buy my goodies." She holds up a ladle full for Lysandor to take if he would like some stew.
"You should know, now that you are working for the Empire, I make my own goods now. I no longer pilfer from those who can't keep an eye on their expensive merchandise." she says with a charm in her smile.
|
|
|
Post by Lysandor on Jul 19, 2008 8:57:51 GMT -6
Lysandor offers his bowl to be filled and his sterling gaze flicks to Pacsha for a moment, something akin to amusement in their depths.
"Of course," he replies. "And you have found clientle in the middle of the desert? I did not know there were any who lived out here... apparently I was mistaken."
|
|
|
Post by Narrator on Jul 21, 2008 15:34:28 GMT -6
Pascha bites her lower lip as she serves up Lysandor's food. "No you silly... Out here is where I gather my star metal, you know, to make my goodies..." she holds up a small pendant she is wearing with a chunk of meteor iron hammered into a symbol of protection. "They're all over the place out here just waiting to be found... Ya just gotta know where to look, love." She says with a sly wink.
|
|
|
Post by Lysandor on Jul 27, 2008 14:20:35 GMT -6
Lysandor eats with as much enthusiasm as the Fallen ever has, which is to say not much. If he detects any falsehood from the Demonling, he makes no sign.
"I heard you had an apprentice," Lysandor says, his gaze flicking to the pendant then back at Pacsha. "Or was that merely another rumor?"
|
|
|
Post by Thane on Jul 27, 2008 15:35:23 GMT -6
Thane eats his soup quickly though more civilized than most times the hound eats. He actually uses a spoon, properly. He nods to Lysandor about the star metal comment from Pascha.
"My scimitar was made from such 'star-metals.' Though the blade was forged in my village the metals came from nomads claiming to have gotten the shards from the blasted desert." He withdraws the blade and he advances toward Pascha. He lifts the heavy blade and the pendant on her neck rises up toward black sword like a magnetic force held charm over the hammered metal.
Thane quickly sheathes his blade and the pendant falls back around Pascha's neck. "I'd be interested in finding some good amounts of the metal myself to present as a gift to Regent. Such material makes for superior craftsmanship of remarkably keen blades. Only the purest shards are worth their weight, though I'm sure in the hands of the palace blacksmith, it could make for a beautiful arcane weapon that would be especially... deadly... in the right hands."
Thane then looks back at the pot, "May I trouble our hostess for more?" he says with a toothy grin holding up his bowl.
|
|
|
Post by Narrator on Jul 31, 2008 13:33:00 GMT -6
"I did for a while, till I caught them stealin' from me to pay off some debt to some shady characters in the capital city..."
The little Demonling woman's words drift off and she shrinks back as the hound approaches blade drawn out. She raises some as the metal trinket lifts off her neck and hovers in mid air for a moment.
"Your blade must be made of solid meteor iron as I have never seen any blade do that before." She says as she clutches her trinket in her claws. "Yeah, help yourself there... ah... yeah." she says to Thane as she is pointing at the pot.
She looks to Lysandor and whispers, "Honestly I think it were meant as dues for the thieves guild if you ask me... just asking for trouble, so I brained 'em good, got my merchandise back and I left 'em there where I whopped him, laying there drooling in the street. Served him right thievin' from me."
|
|
|
Post by Thane on Aug 13, 2008 10:04:45 GMT -6
Thane moves quickly to the pot and serves himself again. He nibbles as he listens to the whispers of conversation and he nods. He can't help but blurt out, "Sounds like he got what was coming to him." the hound says with a nod.
He continues eating the soup as he wanders off to the great rock to stare toward the south at the valley too far off from view. He longs to retrieve the prize and return it to the Chancellor as his master had requested it.
|
|
|
Post by Lysandor on Aug 14, 2008 14:02:06 GMT -6
Lysandor watches impassively as Thane reveals his scimitar to be made from the "star metal" as well. An observant eye might be able to see a trace of amusement in the Fallen's normally stoic features, but it's gone almost before it fully developed. He nods, as he agrees with Thane's assement of Pascha's former apprentice.
"An appropriate way to dismiss one who would have stolen from you to appease a debt," he replies, but his lips twitch minutely. "Though I cannot argue with how he would have paid his dues to the Thieves' Guild... it would certainly have amused the collector's to know how he came to possess it. And as I remember, the dues are rather steep..."
|
|
|
Post by Narrator on Aug 15, 2008 13:01:51 GMT -6
Pascha nods to Lysandor as she serves herself what is left of the stew. she finds a nice soft lump in the sand ans she sits down to eat. She sips the broth with her scaly lips and looks satisfied that her stew is very tasty.
"I can't imagine how much star metal it would have taken to satisfy that sort of payment." She shrugs showing her uncomfortable feelings about the conversation. She produces a spoon from her skirts and continues eating as she stares at Thane's back. her eyes become lost in nervous repetition between the two elite and her wagon.
|
|
|
Post by Lysandor on Aug 15, 2008 17:59:02 GMT -6
Lysandor allows the conversation to fade, and settles himself in to eating. As he eats, he watches Pascha, noting her eyes flickering from Thane to her wagon. He contents himself to just watch for the moment and not say anything... yet.
|
|