7th Sea: the Fragments of Theus (Game Thread - Closed, Started)

Arcanist

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Chaos erupted in the thoroughfare as the fight from the tavern spilled out into the city street. The drunken revelers soon joined the brawl, and it wasn't long before the guards and even the Inquisition joined the fray, attempting to quell the violence. Things became truly hectic, however, when a stable of eight horses were spooked by the nearby altercation and stampeded out into the crowd, their terrified cries rising above the ruckus of the crowd.

Renault, for his part, watched on with mild bewilderment as the scene went from bad to horrible in the space of a few seconds. If those horses kept rampaging, dozens of people could end up dead. And here he was, on the scene. 'Shit. So much for keeping a low profile...' He bolted over to the nearest such horse, a large black thing with its staddle and reins still mounted.

His reflexes forced him to take a step back, however, as a broken bottle barely whizzed past his head. Two drunks from the crowd had seemed to mark him as a target and were brandishing makeshift weapons, barring his way to the rampaging horse. His hands almost motioned to draw his swords before he quelled the reflex. 'Lethal force would attract too much attention. But, these are drunks, so this shouldn't be too hard...'

With one swift motion, Renault reached back and grabbed his musket by the barrel, while taking a deft step forward. In a single swipe, the stock struck the side of one brawler, and, with a twist of his legs, directed the momentum of the blow towards the other brawler. No less than a second after he had drawn, both laid in a crumpled heap on the ground. With is his path now clear, Renault lept onto the horse, pulling back on the reins has hard as he could. The stallion bucked in protest, but after a few authoritative tugs it eventually settled down.
 

SamtheDeathclaw

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Rosemonde saw the strike, even if the judge did not. She didn't know either of the men, but she did know she couldn't allow it.

She considered her options: leap into the ring, and try to protect Davis: terrible idea, but one many knights might jump to. Talk to the judge: if he overlooked such a strike, it was likely he'd been payed off. Talk to Don Montevada: chances of him simply believing her and not dismissing her as a bettor who was losing money on a match were pretty low, even if he did know her.

As Rosemonde moved through the crowd, she spotted yet another injustice: a young Cathay man, surrounded by three men. The Cathay was well armed, though the others were as well. She stepped up behind the Vodacce man, her hand on the hilt of her rapier.

"I dearly hope you aren't threatening this man. As you probably know, the vows of a Knight of the Rose and Cross would demand I kill you for such an action. And indeed, that young man appears to be a student of the Yael style of fighting. Between the two of us, I'm not sure there'd be enough left of you three to bury. As such, I would recommend you find someone else to attempt to intimidate, friend." she said precisely, her hazel eyes boring into those of the Vodacce swine.
 

MortifiedPenguin

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Jun 8, 2012
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"Excuse me, Senora, mind if I sit here for a second?"

Yvonne was surprised when she looked up from her doodling to see a Crescent man, she was certain the accent he spoke with was Castillian, but the copper skin and hooked nose betrayed his linage. On his face he wore a rather grandiose moustache and underneath that a rather bemused smile. She was confused as to why until she looked around her, pandemonium was breaking lose, she must have really been out of it. Inquisition forces were flooding the streets and horses were stampeding, so much for a quiet cup of coffee, that atmosphere had completely been ruined!

Yvonne nodded a yes so the man would sit down down.

"This night seemed more fun an hour ago."

"Then perhaps we should go and find somewhere more fun?" She replied. With the Inquisition running amok it would probably be best for her not to stick around.
 

Texas Joker 52

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Jun 25, 2011
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~Beatrice~

Beatrice barely managed to catch the Montaigne man's reply, since her attention was drawn ever more to the steadily growing tavern brawl. It was starting to concern her, particularly after what looked like a priest rushed out with a hurt drunkard in tow. But, it was when a particularly dangerous throw caused the nearby horses, clearly part of an upcoming parade, to rear and stampede.

"Shit.", she murmured, clamping her cigarette between her teeth, and promptly grabbed both the priest and his charge before pulling them both into a nearby alley, even as the 'mercenary' dove into the chaos.

The alley itself was, thankfully, mostly deserted despite the single passed-out drunk that leaned back against the wall of what may have been either a shop, or one of the many cafe's that Altamira had. Once she was sure they weren't in any immediate danger, and were relatively out of sight, she let go of the two men she had dragged behind her before sitting on the damp paving stones of the alley itself.

"You two had better keep quiet about this.", she told them in a surprisingly calm voice, even as she pulled a semi-intact wood crate in front of her.

Reaching into her traveling coat, she pulled out an unusual deck of cards. Then she started her ritual to perform Sorte. With several flourishes, she cascaded the cards in mid-air, and then shuffled them several times, even as she turned and focused on the horses in the street nearby, and could see the Strands that connected them.

The Strands were what made up fate, and depending on the connections they made, were dyed a different color. The Strands that connected the horses were red, symbolizing the Sword, and the conflict they were in the middle of. And above them floated an inverted Fool, Strength, and Fortune.

And even as she physically laid out the cards in her hands, she reached out magically and cut the Strands that connected them, in the hopes of calming them down and stopping their rampage.

Once she was finished, she blinked, then promptly gathered up her cards and stood, turning back to the two men that accompanied her. With a small, sly smile, she took a long drag on her cigarette and tucked her Sorte Deck back into her coat.

"Lets keep what I just did between us, shall we?", she asked sweetly, giving them a wink even as she blew out a thin trail of smoke.
 

Arcanist

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As the last bucks from his horse subsided, Renault cast a look about - a pack of three horses now stampeded to his immediate right, their riders tossed from their backs and terrified whinnies on their lips. Renault considered jumping off his horse to placate the others as well, but at the rate they were rampaging they would hurt at least a dozen people before he was finished. Before he could act any further, however, he could feel a strange shift in the behavior of his horse. All at once, it seemed more composed, like it had taken a full minute to calm down in the space of several seconds. Indeed, the other horses seemed to react in much the same way, their bucks becoming more subdued and more cognizant of their surroundings, though still quite dangerous.

Deciding not to let this turn of events go to waste, he pulled on his horses' reins, directing it towards the rampaging pack. "Clear way, unless you want to get trampled!" he cried, sending the revelers about him scattered as he maneuvered to intercede between the stampeding horses and the rest of the crowd. Pacing back and forth on horseback, he acted as a living barrier between them and the crowd, rushing forth to intercept when they scrambled forward and pulling back when they did so.
 

Ruedyn

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"Then perhaps we should go and find somewhere more fun?"

"A bit close to a proposition, isn't it?" Reyes said with a wink, turning his attention back outside, leaning on the back of the chair and tapping a quick rhythm to help him think. Things were being done about the horses, at least, by a man with a musket. He did want to see if there was anything he could do to help, the inner good trying to break to surface.

When was the last time he rode a horse? Probably could get the hang of it again.

"Well, you've got a sword, I'll assume you can fight. Wanna go be heroic?" He asked, now grinning.
 

Terratina.

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He had emerged out of chaos, only to be beset by chaos.

Erasmo and the injured were dragged away as the priest-in-training spied some of the carnage that had broken out. All he saw and heard and smelt was blood, cries of pain and blood, but it was enough to guess at what was going in: people were being hurt, or even dying. Tears trickled down his face, his mind burdened with the dreadful knowledge that the incident could have been prevented. His body fell limp, defeated yet again, making it all the more easier for the woman dragging him.

Nevertheless, when the mysterious woman let him go, there were no tears. Still, the hazel of eyes were surround by a raw red, it wouldn't be hard to guess that the grown man had been crying. Erasmo didn't care; he had quickly fallen back into the old habit of chanting prayers, "Oh Prophets, share your wisdom with me. Oh Prophets, share your wisdom with me. Oh Prophets, share your wisdom with me..." With chanting, he tried to ignore the worst of old memories.

As he did so, he tended to the drunkard's injuries. Erasmo's hands fumbled about with bandages as he tried to stop the bleeding. Soon enough, the man had a bandage wrapped around his head tightly, but that did not stop the bleeding. Blood trickled out of his ear. It was worse than Erasmo expected: concussion. The man needed to go to The Order's shelter for more help, but how to get him there? The streets had been consumed by chaos and Erasmo felt too weak to carry him.

"You two had better keep quiet about this."

Erasmo turned to the source of the voice. Of course! What about the lady there? She was just playing with cards anyway... Wait, those cards... Sorte! An sudden wave of unease came over Erasmo, what was this witch doing? Erasmo coughed, was she the source of that smell of cigarette smoke as well? Erasmo chose to sigh instead of swear, such language wasn't befitting of a servant of the Church anyway. Nevertheless, he pulled himself and up addressed the Sorte Witch.

"Lets keep what I just did between us, shall we?"

He coughed again as smoke met his face, and patted himself down before saying, "I am not the Inquisition, but I am not an Objectionist. Regardless, I thank you for dragging me and him out of there." Erasmo nodded his head towards the injured drunkard and continued, "You have done me a favour, and you now ask me to do yourself a favour... I admit this will be hard for a person like myself. Still, I think co-operation is not out of the question."

Erasmo cleared his thoart and carried on, "So, in return for my silence, will you help me save this poor man?"
 

Mr.Ivebeenframed

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"Besides; you could get hurt."

"If it happens, it happens. I know what I am doing." Surfan said to the man who spoke Crescent to him. Very few occasions did he meet someone who spoke to him directly let alone in Crescent. The Crescent made a whole lot of enemies which didn't make it easy for Surfan to traverse West of it. He grabbed the hilt of his sword in anticipation but he kept calm for the most part. He needed the focus for when he would fight and judging by the competition, he needed a lot of it.

"Where did you learn your Crescent? It's quite good..." Surfan curiously asked while he watched the fight unfold.
 

Evrant-Knight

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"Of... course. And I'm glad to... hear it." Adrianna spoke in a timid voice again, before turning away to walk down towards the docks.

"Have a safe and enjoyable evening Señorita." Garrett said happily with a wave, and soon went into the Guild Hall after hearing the sounds of swords clashing against one another. He of course had to surrender to the questioning of the bouncers to see why he wanted in, and he replied that he simply wished to watch the displays of skill and cunning that were no doubt on display.

It was now a little bit later, Garrett was sitting in the stands as a fight waged on, he cast his thoughts back to earlier.

"*sigh* Why didn't I just ask her out? Simple, given her rather timid nature, it would have no doubt scared her. Hell, I could have asked if she wanted some company to enjoy the celebrations with, or to act as a bodyguard for her; after all, there are all sorts of strange people come out at night, even during a festival such as El Año Nuevo. However, I have a strange feeling that it won't be the last time I see her this evening, after all, things haven't got exciting yet." Garrett thought to himself, as a smile brought himself out of the doom and gloom he was feeling.
 

MortifiedPenguin

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"Well, you've got a sword, I'll assume you can fight. Wanna go be heroic?" The Crescent man asked, now grinning.

She grinned back in response, "A mysterious man from the east is propositioning me to go on a adventure. My, how I can I say no." Ending with a wink.

She shot up from the chair she was sitting on and hastily gathered her belongings.

"Coming?"
 

Texas Joker 52

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Jun 25, 2011
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~Beatrice

Beatrice took a moment before the Priest actually replied to look at him and the drunkard more clearly, and she fought against a grimace. The boy, and what could she think of him as if not a boy at that age, looked like he was near tears, while his charge was unconscious, and bleeding badly. When the priest finally spoke, her eyes flashed back to his, but her expression was carefully blank as she pulled the spent cigarette from her mouth and crushed it idly under her boot.

"I am not the Inquisition, but I am not an Objectionist. Regardless, I thank you for dragging me and him out of there. You have done me a favour, and you now ask me to do yourself a favour... I admit this will be hard for a person like myself. Still, I think co-operation is not out of the question.".

He took a breath before he continued, and Beatrice took that time to swear just under her breath.

"So, in return for my silence, will you help me save this poor man?".

She took a moment to sigh, then look rather sadly at the unfortunate drunk. Then, looking back at the young priest, she nodded.

"Alright. What do you want me to do with him, since I don't know a thing about healing.", she said, walking over and deciding and pick him up.

Between her and the priest, she had the feeling she was the stronger of the two, and he would need help with carrying the rather portly drunk as it was.
 

Terratina.

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"Alright. What do you want me to do with him, since I don't know a thing about healing."

The robed man stood fully recovered, he could do this! The witch's acceptance almost brought a tiny smile to his face, but the fact that he was now consorting with a user of Sorcery stopped the smile in its tracks. And so, his face stayed solemn. He had to go to Confession afterwards, surely? But Erasmo had promised her his silence. Reluctantly, he accepted the fact that he would have to sort that out at a later date, possibly when both servant of Theus and servant of Legion would be separated by vast distances. Erasmo simply added the incident to the mental list of what he had to confess, it was growing at a steady pace - never a good sign for one who wished to become a fully-fledged priest.

"Just please help me carry him to a shelter, I know the way, just help me carry him..." Erasmo replied.
 

Texas Joker 52

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~Beatrice~

"Just please help me carry him to a shelter, I know the way, just help me carry him...".

She had to heft the unconscious man a little to really be in a good position to carry him properly, but once he was securely in her arms, she sighed and nodded to the priest, who she noticed had started to smile, only to go back to looking solemn. She merely chuckled darkly and looked at him with a quirked brow.

"Have a problem with having a Witch help you?", she asked, clearly amused at the fact that he seemed troubled by the fact that he needed her assistance.

Or maybe it was the fact she asked him to keep quiet about what she was.

"Trust me, I'm not very comfortable with this either. He's a smelly one, and I'm not too fond of the Vaticine Church, since they'd probably love to see me killed for what I am. But, such is life.", she said easily, just before following him out of the alley.

"My name is Beatrice Fausti, by the way.", she told him, introducing herself with an inclined head, since she couldn't exactly bow with the drunkard in her arms.
 

Terratina.

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"...My name is Beatrice Fausti, by the way."

At least she had some manners, but beside her easy charm, Erasmo would not ignore the fact that she was a practitioner of Sorte and there an enemy of the Vaticine Church. Nevertheless, for an uneasy alliance, things were rather cordial in contrast to the remnants of the stampede outside the alley. A few people in the crowd recognised his robes, and noticed that he was being followed by a woman who carried a wounded man. It wasn't hard for them to put two and two together. Even fewer asked for his help, but, as they say, he had his hands full. Still, that didn't mean that he couldn't introduce himself to the Sorte Witch, and reply to her teasing. 'If only the stampede hadn't happened...' Erasmo thought. It seemed that his lists of regrets was growing as well.

"Erasmo Esposito, of the Francescan Order." He responded, "We are doing some good here, and that is enough for me."
 

Texas Joker 52

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~Beatrice

Even with her amusement at their current predicament, Beatrice had to admire the fact that the priests robes were enough to part the way through the dregs of the brawl and the stampede that remained in the street. She would have surveyed the damage that was caused with the hope that her little spell earlier had minimized what could have happened, but with the drunkard she was carrying, and the fact she was relying on the priest for directions, she had her hands full and her attention taken up.

"Erasmo Esposito, of the Francescan Order. We are doing some good here, and that is enough for me.".

She had to give the man credit: As obviously uncomfortable as he was, he was certainly polite. But his last name caused her to perk up a little, and she narrowed her eyes as she looked him over again.

"Esposito? Would you happen to be related at all to a former Merchant Prince by the name of Antonio Esposito?", she asked.
 

Terratina.

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May 24, 2012
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"Esposito? Would you happen to be related at all to a former Merchant Prince by the name of Antonio Esposito?

The question puzzled Erasmo, what was so important about this former Merchant Prince? Personally, the man had never heard of a 'Antonio Esposito'. His face betrayed his puzzlement and curiosity, 'There is a story behind this, of that much I can be sure, but the witch simply drawing my attention away from the injured man?' He had be careful, Erasmo could be sure of that as well. He began to pick up the pace, after all, that could just be explained away as a means of getting the patient to the shelter as quickly as possible. There wasn't long until he would arrive in the centre of the city - where the Francescans made their home. Still, if he shared his story, perhaps Beatrice would share her own, and how she was connection to Antonio Esposito.

He craned his head back to her again, "I do not think so, Signorina Fausti. I am a son of a farmer, a simple peasant. Why?"
 

Texas Joker 52

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Jun 25, 2011
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~Beatrice~

She had to admit, his reaction to her question was both amusing, thanks to the expression on his face, but exasperating thanks to the fact that there was some clear suspicion. It took him awhile to finally reply, and he had picked up his pace before he spoke.

"I do not think so, Signorina Fausti. I am a son of a farmer, a simple peasant. Why?".

She nodded, and had her hands not been full, would've waved it off. "No particular reason beyond the shared surname. Though, I do wonder why someone so young is already a man of the cloth.", she said, giving him a rather charming smile as she continued to follow him.
 

hiei82

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Aug 10, 2011
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[HEADING=2]The Guild of San Marcos[/HEADING]

"I dearly hope you aren't threatening this man. As you probably know, the vows of a Knight of the Rose and Cross would demand I kill you for such an action. And indeed, that young man appears to be a student of the Yael style of fighting. Between the two of us, I'm not sure there'd be enough left of you three to bury. As such, I would recommend you find someone else to attempt to intimidate, friend." Rosemonde said to the Vodacce man who merely shrugged his shoulders and stared back.

Then, turning to one of the men behind him he asked "Did you hear any threats?". The man shook his head no, prompting the smaller Vodacce man to turn to the other man. "Did you?" he asked, once again returning a no. At once he turned to the self-proclaimed Knight and said "No one's been threatening anyone. I merely offered a... business opportunity and telling him to be careful."; a wide, lop-sided smile on his face. "Now, if you're done being nosy, I'm trying to make a deal." he finished, then returned to the Crescent.

The men behind him however put their hands on their swords - just in case.

"Where did you learn your Crescent? It's quite good..." the man asked, to which the crescent replied "Where any Vodacce learns it - The Crescent Empire." Immediately, not distracted by the man's question, he asked again. "So... what do you think of my proposal? I promise it's a... very safe investment."

Before another word could be said however, a gasp erupted from the crowd. Ernesto Villones had, in one terrible stroke, succeeded in his duel with "Big Bill" Davis, made evident by the blade through the chest of the latter man's torso. The gasps quieted as the man was led away by the Castillian guards; though the smile on his face was evident.

It took a few minutes to clear the body away and get the crowd settled, but once it was the judge called the next two participants - Safan and Eginardo Paretti. Just before Safan moved toward the stage, the Vodacce man from before called out "Remember my deal" in Crescent; earning him a few dirty looks.

[HEADING=2]El Paseo Largo[/HEADING]

Between the actions of the Inquisition and the City Guards; the brawl was contained, but the horses were still antsy. The quick moves of a Montaigne Mercenary and a little bit of good luck had stopped the worst of it, but the horses were still afraid. Worse, they were now near the center of a square, surrounded by people. It would only take another spark to set the blaze off again.
 

Ruedyn

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"Coming?"

"Coming." He answered, leaving the cafe and taking another look around. Much more contained, if anything it was almost sort of dull. No dashing heroics for the great Reyes, no sir. Though the horses looked scared, and the Inquisition were roaming and likely out for blood. Or maybe Reyes just thought that from previous proven patterns. Crazy of him to think like that, should stop it.

"Well, this is just disappointing. It seems it's back to calm and festivities." Reyes frowned, looking at the horse. 'Bet I could steal that. What's one more crime to my name, really?' The Mist Dog began stalking towards it, letting out a bit of fog and keeping his face hidden as best he could without being suspicious looking.
 

SamtheDeathclaw

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Rosemonde failed, twice in quick succession. The Cathay had not needed her help, and the fighter had. Another paid the price for her indecision.
Prioritize, Rosemonde. You can't do it all. she repeated. Her master had told her that, often. Had needed to tell her often, both for combat and for trying to help people. One thing at a time. If you don't have time, Theus forbid, you can honestly say you did you best. Not so if you were running around trying to do everything and accomplishing nothing.
She went back to the stands and sat heavily. Where was Reyes? Things were much easier when he was around. He always had some scheme to try. She just had to keep it from blowing up in his face. She smiled, wanely.
She would watch one last fight before going to track down Reyes. Failing that, she would head back to their inn.
Either way, she would make sure that Vodacce didn't try anything fishy against the Cathay. Hopefully she would avoid bungling it this time.