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A Very Good Place to Start
Topic Started: Sun Aug 7, 2011 5:45 pm (631 Views)
Allaer
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"Traveling, huh?" Allaer listened to Shan's explanation about how he came to Cascadia. Shan went on a little spree with explaining it though, getting lost in his own words it seemed. Of course at the mention of Norfolk Village, Allaer gave an odd look. Then at the mention of the Dark Elves he gave a disgusted look. "Listen to my wise words of awesome, Shan. Stay away from Norfolk Village, those wild Elves are a bunch of savages. Plus Cascadia is much more civilised and beautiful. As for those Dark Elves, lets them rots in their underground. Don'ts even go there, either. That's to both of you. Those Dark Elves are worse than Dwarves." The Sun Elf went on a small rant, quite upset at the thought of the Drow even existing.

Allaer turned his attention to Vyse as he went on his explanation. Allaer only made an O shape with his mouth at the mention of magic tattoos. "Uh huh.... Damn magic." He muttered, he hated the stuff. It only served to make other people's day more miserable. Of course he lost interest and only looked at Vyse's performance out of courtesy. Being strong didn't matter much, Allaer only hurt people to eat most of the time and he was stronger than the average bear.
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Shan Orison
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Well, Shan's second thoughts said when Allaer told him about the dangers of Norfolk, a place that had only been a point on the map to him before, Maybe it's a good thing we didn't make it there. He had to smile, though, at being told to stay away from Dark Elves.

"I've decided to avoid them, believe me. It wasn't really my idea to go there anyway, but I was...rather pressured into helping a friend with something."

He listened with amused fascination to Vyse's tale of how his second set of arms came to be. It was hilariously mundane, but made complete sense in a sideways sort of fashion. Shan wasn't sure how to respond to Vyse's sudden feat of strength, so he clapped. The performer in him thought how much money the man could get as a traveling act. The realist in him figured the man didn't enhance his strength to perform tricks.

Why would he need enhanced strength? wondered Shan's suspicious side. I know he's a merchant, but the head of a company shouldn't need to take on many physical challenges

We don't know when he got the tattoo, his common sense pointed out. And that would be helpful when it comes to loading and unloading caravans.

Shan heard Allaer scoff at the display. The sun elf apparently wasn't a fan of magic. Shan had met too many people like that growing up, and his mouth and heart started to run off without consulting his mind.

"Some magic can be useful," Shan said. "I've seen it help people countless times when nothing else could have saved them. It's not really evil or good, like a sword or hammer. Although I guess I can' t really say much, since I only know a small healing spell.

"And that strength must be useful for you job, Vyse. What sort of things does your company trade in, anyway? How did you end up the head of it?"

And where's that stew? his id asked impatiently.
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Vyse
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Vyse gave him a sad smile, "I'd rather not discuss in detail how I got it... but long story short, it was in my father's will when he died, it was renamed and given to me, a company of merchants so far in debt and in shady dealings that it almost wasn't worth trying to salvage. As for my wares, we cut our deals with shady people and we deal in everyday items, weapons for guards, and, our specialty, healing supplies, from magical to mundane. We're barely staying afloat since I sell for only a bit above the entirety of the components... it's the only way people will deal with company like mine. Small and weak, but slowly, very slowly, becoming stronger." He looked up to see Brenk with their food, placing it down in front of them and refilling Vyse's own flagon with more Black Water Ale.

He sighed, taking a drink before speaking again, "I wasn't always a merchant Shan, I was once called the Scourge of Bandits, the Hunter of Smugglers, and Protector of the Innocent... I got my strength so I could rip apart anyone who would dare hurt my precious subordinates, friends, or anyone who did not deserve harm. I will admit, I'm not a perfect man, I'm not good at farming, being a merchant, or being a smooth talker, I'm a berserker, a warrior, and I used my skills to help my company to the best I can." Vyse started to eat his food, forgetting about the sadness of his father's death, the anger of having his freedom taken away, but remembering the joy he felt when he had fought bandits, killed smugglers, and saved many, many lives.
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