The Knights of Rhodernia [Semi-Lit+Fantasy] CLOSED

[Mayiamaru]

Mayia didn't get the chance to tell Daeron no... So she had no choice but to take the request. She stepped into the Black Stone Tavern and noticed that there were people pressed to the walls, staring at Elenwen with worry and fear of her living sword. She just watched, unsure of what to do. At the least it wasn't as loud as it was earlier. She sighed and decided that she should just wait outside, but she didn't get the chance. Some people who were leaving shoved her aside, Mayia's light weight not helping her stand her ground. She was knocking into some other people and they shoved her back, sending her to the floor. Mayia wasn't really a fighter... So she dusted herself off and got up, uttering an apology before unintentionlly backing away from the door rather than towards it like she wanted. Once she noticed that she was backing away from the direction she wanted, she sighed lightly and walked towards the others, making sure her staffs were in place and were alright.

"Daeron said he had business... But personally, I think he was lying..." Mayia said lowly, her voice going over the sound of the crowds of people that were crammed in here. She was sensitive to things like lying. She hated to be lied to. She was watching Elenwen struggle with her sword. Mayia knew a couple spells, but nothing to disperse force.

[Hobbit]

{Elenwen, so your sword is somewhat like Turin's sword perhaps?}

After Daerons lungs ceased to burn from his long run, he left the alley quickly.
Alleys were good hiding places, therefore all the low-lives and theives hung out there.
It was best not to linger in them, unless you wished to die.
He stepped into the street and his senses were immeadiately attacked by an overload of information.
His first thought was too get some food. Festival fare was risky; either the best of all foods, or complete trash.
As he passed through the vendors, he saw one he recognized.
He pulled his hood over his eyes, and walked to the booth.
In reaching for his purse, he realized it was empty.

[Sijach~Shadowstorm]

((Same name, same evil nature, enjoys killing people just with a little more evil added in ))

Elenwen saw all the eyes on her and she quickly back up, hiding in the dark shadows of the inn's corners. She didn't want to be noticed, not right now and especially not for that. She waited for everyone to go back to normal but she couldn't help but hate Angrywell. She had found the sword in her own home town, burried in an ancient crypt. It was legend to be cursed, to devoure souls and she had found that true, to be the master of the sword you had to go through many risks. To master Angrywell, you would have to pick it up, risking your own soul but if you survived the sword would obey you... to an extent.

[Symphonia]

.:.Clara Louise Golding of Albava.:.

Life is a story - just survive long enough to see its happy ending...

Clara looked up from the delicacy in front of her, her eyes falling on Mayia who had finally joined the group. She let out a silent sigh of relief; she wasn't injured in any way, so it seemed. Sure the swordsman wasn't exactly close with every single person in the guild - they hadn't been traveling with each other for all that long - but she still worried about them. They were her second family, right?

After all, she needed a second family since her first one was being torn apart slowly. She tried to ignore the sad thoughts that entered her mind and swallowed the reminants of the yellowfin in her mouth. "Well, I believe that he can fend for himself." She said nonchalantly, taking another bite of her meal. "He's strong enough. And I think that we'll know if something goes wrong by how long he'll be out." She continued, then noticing that Mayia hadn't had anything to eat since their last campfire in the forest.

"Mayia, are you hungry? It's not too late to order something." She offered, looking around the tavern for a bartender or barmaid. There had to be one around here somewhere, after all, one of them had returned with her fish after all. Everyone had to stay strong, after all, and if you were hungry, you would be weak and weary. Even though Clara wanted to, they couldn't stay here for long. They would spend the night and leave, probably. They had to lay low - if they were found out...

Clara didn't want to think of the consequences they'd face if they were found out. People thought that the Knights of Rhodernia were a bad group.

They thought that the Royal Guard wasn't corrupt, though. Clara had found out about their goals, their evil goals, and wanted nothing to do with them. She wanted to fight for what was right, and most of all, she wanted to save Rhodernia.

Though her ultimate goal would take a long time to complete. She huffed out a sigh, ignoring the bad memories that had returned to her with her thoughts. Right now the matter at hand was to get through another day, she supposed.

((That's what happens when I have a Saturday with nothing to do: I make a pretty header for Clara (: ))

[Hobbit]

Daeron mentally made a list of all his options.
Stealing was obvioulsy not a choice. If he was caught he knew he would be killed.
Even if he was not caught, his actions would place the guild at a higer risk than they already were.
He found a place in the town center where the crowds were thinner, and began his old acrobatics act.
It had been quite some time since he had last done it, but after a couple falls, his legs and arms remembered their old tricks.
As he got more daring, the crowds thickened. It was not very long until his cloak had a small handful of the lessar coins in it.
When he deemed he had enough, he did a last act, landed on his feet and bowed.
"Thank you kindly, m'lords and ladies." he said with as charming a smile as he could muster.
He gathered his cloak about him, and melted with the crowds.
The crowds had been generous, and he feasted quite well.
Even as he ate and enjoyed the festival, he kept an eye on the sun's postition.
If he stayed out too late, there was a chance they would come looking for him, or perhaps leave without him.
Not that he thought them untrustworthy, but one missing comrade is of less importance than the rest of the group that remains.

[Mayiamaru]

(Lol XD)

Mayia looked up at the sound of Clara's voice. She shook her head when Clara asked her if she were hungry. Mayia was lying though... She was starving, but she would rather not eat in a place life this, so full of people and... things... "I-If you wouldn't mind, I would like to go to the inn... Did anyone get the rooms?" She asked, keeping her voice low while she tried to keep herself from sounding innocent or frightened. She really just wanted to get out of here. She wouldn't mind hiding out in a room by herself, although, it would still be a little frightening. She actually wouldn't have minded staying in a barn. The animals would have kept her company. She hoped that Hunter would be alright on his own.

[Lennie]

{All right, at this point I have no excuse for not having started. I sincerely apologize for this, I don't know why but I just haven't been able to post. Would anyone mind giving me a simple, recent recap and I should be able to begin by tonight. Again, I am so sorry for having not started yet.}

[Symphonia]

((Hey, no problem! Everyone minus Daeron is at a tavern called the Black Stone Tavern at the moment. Daeron is doing something on his own which includes an acrobatic routine for gold I believe. Our characters are about to head to the Inn, and they're trying to lay low because, well, the guild isn't known for good reasons. (: Hope that helped!))

[classi]

Vethro Belomondore

Vethro sighed and pushed back his chair. "I'll be in my room." He said, looking around. He walked towards a long hallway, his hood making his face unknown. He was glad that almost no one, minus his friends, knew who he was.
Once he entered the corridor, he flipped off his hood. It hung limp against his back. He jogged up the stairs and entered his room, the 45 Red Stone.
He shouldered the door open and stood in the doorway, blinking. A lamp hung in each corner of the room, illuminating his quarters with an erie glow. The beds, stuffed with soft feathers, looked comfortable enough. A rough but soft blanket was spread over each of the four beds. Beside each sleeping place was a small wooden table. Each had a leather-bound book about the history of the tavern.
Vethro set his small parcel and items on his chosen bed. He lifted a book called 'Swords and swordmanship' out of his bag, and set it on the table, next to the history book.

[classi]

Vethro Belomondore

(( How's this layout? ))