Crusaders, Start Your Engines!
Chardev (Kerbasy): It's been a while since I've played Kerbasy, and it shows. Donk is amazing to play with, though, and the two provide a nice contrast, two people with very different goals. The compromise they reached was unexpected, and lots of fun. I think what happened here today will add to any number of scenes to come.
-=--=--=--=--=--=-<* Northwestern City Gates - Guard Post *>-=--=--=--=--=--=- Compared to times before the development of airships, foot traffic through the northern gate is at a minimum; the guards posted here are often sleepy and bored. Despite the lack of overt traffic, on occasion patrols are stepped up around the gates in relation to recent events and incursions into the city. Beyond the gates the large dirt road begins to wend its way northwards to the crossroads and the Eldwyn Forest. The sound of nature often filters its way into the city from this gate, particularly at night when nocturnal creatures deliver their constant barrage of sounds. To the south lies Alexandria; the ground here is high enough that those with sharp eyes can see buildings that sit on the edge of the bluff Alexandria is built upon some distance to the south. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-- Contents --=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- Kerbasy A young priest, cheerful despite his somber garb. 0s 1d -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= Exits -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- Eldwyn road <N> Gateway <S> -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Donk has arrived.
It's Korday, Callem 02 18:28:51 1014. The full moon isn't up. The tide is high and slack.
A light rain falls from a grey sky. It's warm and there's a slight wind from the southeast.
The call has been sent to the local Death's Attendant that some bizarre gnome is outside the main gate demanding to be paid a "bounty". Shrugs have been passed around the guard, and Kerbasy has gotten the barest of explanations other than "Make it go away."
Donk sits proudly aside Destroyer outside the man gate, meticulously picking dirt and bugs out of his fantastically orange beard. A human bandit corpse is draped over Destroyer's flank, a hole the size of a watermelon through his chest.
"...arrived just the...and..."
"...heard there...seven..." Two guardsman walk along with the Mourner, their faces wet from the light rain. The two talk in anxious whispers on either side of him. And Kerbasy...his face is fixed piously on the ground in front of him, his hands are folded in his sleeves.
They make you practice those expressions.
The gray-haired guard eyes the gnome suspiciously, of course, and the two continue their hushed conversation for a while. Kerbasy pauses a moment, and when he looks up his expression is the perfect composure of So Sad, My Child.
They so make you practice these.
And he takes a step, and walks forward, only to come to a stop a yard or so away. "Can I help you?"
Donk pauses from twirling his moustache out straight and tilts his bug's-head-helm up to peer at Kerbasy, looking him up and down. "Hmm... The Donk is unsure of your helpfulness, Berobed One. You do not seem to be carrying any money with you. YOU!"
Donk suddenly has his lance in his hand, the tip whistling through the air to point directly at one of the guards. It quivers. "Did The Donk not instruct you to bring him the bounty for this bandit?? Or..." His voice falls to a dangerous whisper, eyes narrowing. "Are you seeking to incur The Donk's wrath?"
Kerbasy's brows shoot up into his hairline (he'd forgotten to wash it, again). He wears the robes of a Mourner, in grays and lined with sand. ...and in his case...
Mud. His nails are coated with it, and even now, rain covers most everything. And he'd apparently been out working in it.
"Mourner Kerbasy d'Bahjat, service of th' Grey Lady. I was told there was a guest t' claim?" The Mourner glances down, clears his throat. "An' to verify?"
Donk's moustache is already starting to sag under the drizzle of the rain. But his glare at the hapless guard is unwavering, even as his visage droops. He's silent for a moment...and slowly smiles, raising his lance again and guiding his steed to turn about, pointing his laden butt at Kerbasy.
"The Donk doesn't know about "guests", but there was a minion of evil and robbery lurking about the woods near the road. He threatened The Donk and demanded money. The Donk felt sorry for him...so has come to claim the money he demanded." That's... kind of logic?
"Could be." The smile's somewhat awkward, and the priest rubs at the back of his neck. The smile turns into a nervous grin as the lance is pointed at him, and he backs up a pace. "Heh. Easy, there. I just need t' make sure this is who you're sayin' it is." He lowers his hands, both of them, as he keeps an eye on the twitchy Donk. "I'm goin' to have a word with th' Lady an' ask his spirit to talk. We do this in court cases, y'understand?"
The Donk is never twitchy! He is /alert/!
The cavalier glances back, giving Kerbasy a suspicious look. "Hands off the pooch," he says, seeing him about to reach for Destroyer's flank. He raises an eyebrow. "What's this about court cases? The Donk doesn't remember agreeing to any hearing!" He drops his voice to a whisper, gaze flicking suspiciously to the guards. "The Donk has outstanding warrants."
The deathpriest grins once, quickly. He's more lean than broad, more agile than strong. And his movements reflect a man full of life, no matter the robes he wears. The grin makes him look almost too young, though.
He crouches swiftly near the corpse, and pulls out a small jar. He has, apparently? No fear of the warning. He's here to do a job. "Have you ever been part of one of these before?" he asks. "A spirit-awakenin'? It's not necromancy. ...well, it's not th' evil sort. It's when we ask th' Lady to prop open a door for a little while. So we can ask questions. F'example, there might be a dispute over a...a...uh...bit of land. So long as we're respectful, th' Lady permits us to find that answer by askin' someone's spirit." He looks up with a grin. It looks like he does that often. "Killin' Jim Bob th' Panty Butcher's worth quite a bit. If you're gonna get th' reward, it need verified in some way."
"A who-to-the-what now? Berobed One, you can put on a funny hat and do a jig, as long as it gets The Donk his money." And it seems it will! Donk grins broadly, and slaps a gauntlet on Kerbasy's back. "Wonderful! Well-done, good sir! You'll find a spot in Donk's next Wonderous Tale of Wonder!"
Oof! Kerbasy coughs as he's slapped, and the deathpriest hunches his shoulders a bit. "Heh. Well, sit back, I guess," he says with a sort of smile. He looks back at the corpse, and then removes the lid. He's not going to ask about the warrants, after all. He's here to do a job, and well...Donk? Donk is an adventurer. As he draws the ash over the corpse's eyes and then his mouth...there are other things for him to do. And as he does, his face takes on a look of quiet rapture. "Lady," he whispers warmly, "I know you've had a busy day an' all. I mean, heh. There was likely a tussle in Charn, and there were these gobbers out in the sewer bin this mornin'--an--uh, well. We really could use yer help."
And that's when, well. That's when the sky changes. The area around them cools, the temperature dropping rapidly. It cools to a sort of gray, the sound of rain becoming muted and still. And around the corpse, a sort of hush-noise. Soft whisps curl around the figures features, and it begins to lift...slowly. But just the head.
Until the mourner and Jim Bob are staring at one another, eye to eye.
"That's it, m'lady," Kerbasy whispers, and then turns and gives Donk an impish, delighted grin that's almost a child's in its delight.
Donk peers at the sky curiously, frowning deeply. "Is it going to rain? Well, moreso than already? How odd the weather is around he--" Turning his head around, he sees the corpse rising up to come face-to-face with Kerbasy. The gnome lets out an undignified yell of surprise and leaps off his mount. His lance swings around with great force, knocking the bandit's head completely off his neck. It bounces once on the ground, and into a guard's arms.
Who promptly faints.
Well. The head blinks. The dead don't react much, as a rule. This one's eyes might sort of widen...though it's there. In the fainted guard's hands. ...and it gives a cough.
And Kerbasy sits on the grass there, rubbing the back of his neck and looking somewhat embarrassed over it all. Except, well.
He got to talk to HER.
HER!
With her gorgeous, death-pale skin. And spindly arms and legs...
Sigh.
Donk's lance swings again, and knocks the headless body off Destroyer's back. The graceful lance becomes a gracless bludgeoning weapon as he slams it against the corpse over and over and over. "Undead! Kill it kill it kill it kill it!"
Eventually, Donk calms down, panting and wide-eyed as he raises his messy lance up, peering at that body again. "... The Donk is victorious?" he says, hopefully.
Kerbasy keeps on grinning. And then reaches over to lift the head. He does so carefully, with long fingers. ...and sets it in the grass in front of him. "You're doin' fine. Heh. Donk? You remember what I said about spirits?"
"Yes, the Donk does." Donk his lance up, settling it proudly against his shoulder. "You have said that the spirits flee in fear at the meer mention of The Donk's might."
Kerbasy blinks. And then looks at Donk. Is he drunk? that seems to ask. The young priest squats there amid the grass, then frowns. "Stay over there a while," he says. It comes with a certain amount of command from that young face, but well. He's also a man who puts his strength, and faith, in something else. "Lady permitting, I need t'finish what we started." And he looks over to see if Donk will do just that!
Donk just stares at Kerbasy in bafflement, still standing.
The young priest watches a while, and then gives a sigh. And after a while, he reaches out, and gives a tug at the air near the corpse's head. "In th' name of the Lady, I've come to ask you a question." He clears his throat, and looks over at Donk again. Stay there, that look seems to say.
And then he looks down at the corpsehead, and asks, "What's your name?"
The gray presses in, thickens briefly around the corpsehead before it expands. And as it does, the corpse's head gives a shudder, just as a set of lungs emptying into the air. "Jeordie," it says.
Donk watches more suspiciously as the priest leans in. And when the head speaks, Donk /yelps/ out loud, bringing his lance up in the upswing of an overhand chop. He pauses briefly though, frowning down at the priest and the head. Wait, there was something about this that's not /supposed/ to be dangerous... What was it again?
"Yaaaa!" Kerbasy jerks away, his hand coming up. He stays like that a while, eyes wide as he stares at Donk. And then, breath. Scowl. "SIT."
Donk frowns at Kerbasy deeply, lowering his lance by defiantly staying standing.
Destroyer plunks his furry butt on the ground with a THUD.
Kerbasy grins, and looks back at the head. After a moment, he begins to tug the gray back with long fingers. As he does? The sky lightens, the heaviness fades, and summer-warmth begins to return. And, after a while, the head rolls over, any semblance of life lent to it gone. "Heh. Jeordie was th' name Jim Bob was born with. So you're in luck. You're goin' t' get your money, looks like!"
Donk starts cleaning his lance, wiping the gore off the length onto the grass, giving the head a vicious glare. At the mention of money, however, he grins. "Fantastic! The Donk is in need of making his lance sharper." He swishes it through the air. "It's a fantastic weapon, isn't it?" he says, dreamily, "But it could use a bit more...shine."
The graypriest smiles somewhat, and looks over at the rest of the...mauled...corpse. He points at it. "Is that your reaction, normally?" he asks Donk. And his hair's plastered to his forehead by now. The rain keeps misting, though it's not very strong.
Donk grins proudly, tilting his chin up and stroking his beard, lance settling against his shoulder. "Good work, eh? There's not a single zombie The Donk has met that he hasn't obliterated. One time, The Donk was traveling through the plains of the damned, and out on the horizon..."
Kerbasy leans forward, and rests his head in his hands. Briefly. Something mumbled emerges, probably, 'I know I'm going to regret this.' But, he stands, and says, "If you will take an oath against the agents of Thul, I can ask the Harpist to bless your weapon. It will make it strong, and true. ...cold," he adds, with a partial grin, "But effective."
Donk's eyes go wide, and Kerbasy can tell he's already made the sale. Still, the gnome tries to look coy, stroking his beard. "The Donk sees... And this oath involves... Victory in battle? Do these agents have bounties on their head?" Yeah, it's clear he has no idea who Thul is.
"Th' agents of Thul are th' darkest necromancers," Kerbasy says, without pause. He watches Donk keenly after that. "I serve Vardama, th' Harpest. Th' two have been at war for a long time. Vardama sees the dead to rest. ...Thul demands they rise as undead slaves. He's a worthy enemy t' have. Tough. Lot of folk are scared of'im."
"Worthy, you say?" Donk strokes his beard a bit more...and then shrugs. "Very well, perhaps he will give The Donk a little entertainment before he is smote. It's a deal!" Donk roots around in his money pouch.