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Corruption in the Guard?
Topic Started: Mon May 9, 2011 9:46 pm (676 Views)
Vyse
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The fresh air, the light breeze, the high sun, Vyse couldn't think of a worse day to volunteer for guard duty at the refugee camp... it was to nice a day to stand there, do rounds and then stand some more. He had originally started volunteering to hunt out corruption in this area, he had found very little sign of it, but possibly something that could lead to a small smuggling operation. Not much but any corruption destroyed while helping out the refugees was worth it.

He looked on at the woods, wondering if they were hiding their goods in there, or one of the tents, either way he'd have to get information first, he wasn't the best at talking, though his swords made most men sing. "What a boring day..." moaned Vyse as he trudged along, doing the rounds for the southern side of the camp.
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Logan Pathwalker
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In the wake of Taras' collapse, this refugee camp had, for lack of a better term, become the city of Taras, well on its way to recovery into the city that had been consumed by demonic hordes years before. Traders, however, still passed through this desolate camp, selling their wares at whatever price to the destitute people of the former kingdom that had once dominated this place. As such, Logan Pathwalker was drawn here to trade for various goods at he'd been back during his retirement in his hermitage in Norwood forest. Though he now lived a life on the move, the Ranger still required the purchasing of various supplies he used in snagging his food in his journeys, mainly through traps. He hoped to have himself a bow soon, which would make this sort of hunting a lot easier.

With a sack of supplies at his side, Logan now sat at a small campfire he'd built on the southern edge of the camp. He would be leaving soon, probably back to the forest where he could rest beneath the stars. But for now, he was content sitting at a fire roasting a small side of beef he'd bought from the guards' rations while he sharped his bastard sword, Thrae, with a small whetstone.

The ranger looked up, for a second, when he heard footsteps approaching. It was a volunteer on patrol for the guard, seemingly bored out of his mind with the day. Ceasing his sharpening, Logan raised a hand in greeting and called out to him.

"Oi, brave man, have a seat and enjoy a good meal for your patrol. I'll be gone before long, myself."
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Vyse
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Vyse smiled, not many people were willing to share what little they had, a kind soul was hard to find. "Thank you traveler, it has been a long day of walking the perimeter, I would be honored to sit down and eat with you," Vyse sat down, he was slightly suspicious, sitting down on his legs so he could bring a knee and bounce up in a second, the steel of his swords showing slightly for a quick draw.

"I am Vyse Noclan, who might you be traveler?" Vyse used the corners of his eyes to search out the area, not many people, nobody robbing or skulking. What a major disappointment, seems like whatever corruption lies here is well hidden. All he had to go on was a few ledger mistakes that he had written down in his journal. He thumbed through it quickly, not seeing any missing beef he pocketed the book and gave his full attention to the traveler.
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Averil
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Averil wasn't sure why her traveling had brought her to this refugee camp that hardly looked worth a good job. She'd always been flight,y traveling to and fro without a real home. Nowhere really claimed her interest for long and none of the places she'd been made her feel safe or comfortable since she expected the worst of everyone since it proved to be the case often. Averill preferred to be a pessimist rather than an optimist with the comfort it was what kept her without a knife in the back in the middle of the night. Anyways, that was beside the point. Her randomized wandering had brought her to this scrap of an old city that didn't do it justice. Large tents covered the area with enough space to hold a trove that might keep her stomach filled before she reached her next location, but there were also guards. Guards only added to the life of stealing; they made the sensation of getting away with something and the delicious sense of danger even better. Without the competition or that danger, it hardly wasn't worth even looking around.

She buried the tip of her shoes into some old ashes from a nights fire, sending the gray specks flying into the air. Averil brushed impatiently at her coppery hair as it got in her face, looking around for signs of trouble with little care. Most likely, one of the tents nearby was abandoned for the day and she'd slide in there, grabbing whatever she could get her hands onto and leaving as quickly as she'd come. Already she was starting to get the uncomfortable prickles that made her feel like she was being watched, which made this place nothing comparable to security. Barely making a sound against the cool ground, she walked by a series of tents and looked through her coppery mane for an empty one. Not that one... Averil passed the tent and the next until she found one without a soul from what she'd seen through it's flaps billowing in the wind. With a covert look to the side, she slid into the tent.
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Logan Pathwalker
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OoC: Okay, well, when Vyse and I started this topic, we were originally just gonna do it with only the two of us. However, after much consideration, I've decided that you can stay in this topic, Averil, but please try and keep up with the pace of the posting.

IC: Quite enthusiastic, this one, Logan thought to himself as he briefly and wryly regarded the man's swords as he thumbed through his ledger, for what reason Logan could only guess at. Due to a rash of thefts, though, the ranger guessed that he was checking to make sure Logan had not stolen the beef from the guards. Pulling out his clay pipe and filling it with tobacco, Logan began lightly puffing the dry tobacco to test the taste.

"I'm the last person you'd want to scrutinize for theft, lad," Logan growled, his lips still clasped around the stem of his pipe. Taking a bit of tinder he'd used to start the fire, Logan lit it using heat from the flames and then ignited the tobacco in his pipe. "However, it's good that you're at least shouldering some sort of responsibility. Damn place has gone to hell since the collapse of Taras. I'm surprised there's anyone sticking around."

"Call me Peacemaker, by the way. That's the only name you need to know," Logan said, using an old title he'd carried during his adventuring days when he was much more famous than he was now. After drawing a short dagger and cutting chunks of beef off of the side he'd cooked, the ranger laid them onto a stone spit he'd cleaned from the purpose of serving as a makeshift plate.

"Help yourself," Logan said before a movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention. Using his peripherals, Logan caught a glimpse of a young woman creeping her way through the camp before disappearing into a tent, where she didn't belong. "You wouldn't happen to have a set of manacles on you, would you guardsman," the ranger murmured quietly, seeming to lean over to stoke the fire to cover his question.
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Vyse
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"... Aye, I was issued a set for helping, plus, my partner should be nearby ready to help me, she's a good at what she does, but people tend to freak out when she arrives." taking a chunk of meat and popping it in his mouth. He gave a short whistle, "C'mere Umbriel... come on girl."

From the forest a dire tiger stalks out, purring lightly as she rubs her head against her master's back before laying down, keeping out of the sight of other men. "Just tell me where the culprit is and we can surround 'im, cut the suspect off before they can run." Vyse had done this before, he's the reason why thefts had been down for a while, people feared the dual wielding guardsman with a dire tiger partner. "She's well trained not to kill, she's pretty good at grabbing them by their collars and bringin'em back to me like mice." Vyse spoke with some pride about this, he didn't always need to kill them, thieves could be jailed since they tend to do very little compared to smugglers or bandits who might end up taking lives.

Drawing his swords and placing them next to himself, he waited for his new friend to tell him where the trouble was coming from, he and Umbriel would play mouse hunt once the words are spoke.
Edited by Vyse, Sat May 28, 2011 2:47 pm.
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