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originally posted in:The New Dojo
12/29/2017 4:41:36 AM
1
Mason retracted his hand, nodding and smiling at Dale's question.
"New business. You'd think that someone would've thought of this, but nope. Business is as good as can be I guess, assuming it'll take some time to realize that we're here. I'm somewhat disturbed by the thought of people not cleaning their equipment at all with all that physical activity."
The older man mockingly shuddered.
"Imagine the stench..."
English
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"Surely you smelled it on your way here to set up? But yeah, it was pretty bad when we arrived. Though, be careful." Dale patted the axe at his air with a chuckle, his eyes searching the back for the clothes he had dropped off. "I came here seeking riches, and while I got them, I also got danger. Murders every three days, occasionally a massacre. For a world with plenty of fighters, it feels like no one is there to stop the villains before they go too far. I worry for my family's safety."
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Inwardly, Mason groaned. His inner recruitment checklist had been marked off with every word that came out of Dale's mouth - something all of their operatives were trained to do. While men like Yaksha enjoyed twisting mens' loyalties to their cause, Mason found it harder to recruit someone like Dale. Someone who seemed like a decent person. "You got family here?" he asked, "you're right, that is a bit dangerous. You look like a strong guy, but even you can't be everywhere at once." He turned away from Dale, surveying the building around him. "Even this place could go up in flames at any second. Customer gets angry. Fight gets out of hand. The wrong God-warrior flicks a pebble. That kind of stuff."
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[spoiler]I legit it didn't see this, probably got buried under some other stuff lmao. [/spoiler] "Well, I've got more than a few trick up my sleeve. My wife- she's a master of runes, powerful magic that takes hours or days to make. Helps us keep the place intact." Dale followed the owner's eyes around the store and listened intently. He had a fair share of people with short fuses, so what the man was saying was truth. "Yeah, I try and be friendly enough- my pride isn't worth my life, if it saves me or others."
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"Rune magic? Interesting enough. I'm no wizard but I don't hear that kind of stuff often, compared to the conventional stuff everyone has around here. Slinging fireballs, ignoring bullets. That type of stuff." He made sure to use the word "wizard" instead of falling back to the habit of "thaumaturgist". After all, it had taken him months to wring out the SAD terminology from his head. The last thing he wanted was to talk suspiciously to alert anyone. "You said you were an inn owner, right? Big guy like you, I would've thought you'd be in some kind of security job."
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Dale chuckled, as that was the exact reason he had been kicked out for the time being. "Well, Co-Owner. It was originally my Wife, Elincia's place, but I ended up with a third of the work." The hulk of a man looked down at his axe, then crossed his arms, having already patted the weapon, and thinking it would be weird to do again. "I take plenty of security jobs, especially when the inn isn't doing too well. But Elincia, she... Doesn't like it. She knows I'm fine, but she's always all over me. It just so happens that I had accidentally made friends with one of those... Murderers, during the tourney. So, she got mad and here I am."
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Something ached within Mason's mouth at the mention of befriending a murderer. He held it back, for the sake of saving Dale from his preaching, no matter how true it was in the end. Instead, he gave a warm smile when he heard about his wife. A genuine one. "I remember when I first got kicked out of the house by my wife," he sighed happily, reliving his memories, "she didn't like me working with security as a tech or mobile engineer. Always worried about me." He focused back on Dale. "You'll get past it. It's always stuff like this in a marriage that helps you tough it out in the end. Advice from an old man? Cherish it. Real love is a hard thing to come across nowadays from what I see."
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"Yeah, well I'd love her more if it wasn't lunch time at the moment. Ah well, I'm sure things will be fine, you're right." Dale's eyes flickered to the back where he assumed his clothes were being washed and spoke to the owner once more. "So, what's the weird thing in your day? Or rather, what's the weirdest thing you've had wash?"
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"More like the weirdest thing that's requested to be washed." He pointed towards the door, where seemingly nothing was wrong. "This woman came in carrying her brother. Well, I say [i]woman[/i] lightly. She was covered head to toe in fur - like some kind of woman-shaped animal. Never seen anything like it. Kicked my door open and embedded the door knob in the wall. Then asked if I could wash her brother, who was uhh... also covered in fur."
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"Huh." Dale was rather confused by this, but not as much as when he had first arrived. While the request was certainly weird, he had seen something similar. "I saw a goat woman earlier with a gun like you wouldn't believe! That said- she was rather rude, so I left. I suppose there's at least plenty of variety, so you won't get bored..."
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"Yeah," he said, voice trailing off, "bored..." There was a soft beeping sound. It seemed that Dale's clothes were done. "There's a couple of security people I know. If you're looking for an extra job for some more money, I could slip them your name, if you want."
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"Actually, that's be great. Gives me some more opportunities. Playing the hero... Doesn't pay my bills." The burly man watched as his clothes were finished, and uncrossed his arm to receive the bundle when it came to him. "As much as I want it to, at least."
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"Barely ever does," Mason agreed, "anyways, with that tourney and from what I'm seeing so far, you'll probably get the job." Mason's watch glowed softly. Surprised, he tapped on its faced and cocked his eyebrow in response, smiling. "Looks like you've already been accepted. They mostly do freelance stuff, like just stop trouble wherever it starts. Do that and you get paid - easy enough gig." [i]But not in a place where the criminals are gods.[/i]
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Dale kept a straight face, thinking it odd that he had not even reached out to the group before they "accepted" him. Perhaps his tourney popularity was bigger than he thought. It was also clear that the washing man had more too him than Dale had originally thought. "Sounds fair. Where do I meet these contractors?"
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Mason pretended to look at one of his machines and shrugged. He couldn't afford Dale seeing any dishonesty in his eyes. "Don't meet them, per se. From what I hear, you make sure people are in line around the Dojo and then they'll officially contact and pay you." Half-truth again. The Mourners would find Dale after he proved that he too sought justice. "Lucky for you, I've been commissioned to offer one free piece of gear or an upgrade of your choice. They cover the bill." Another odd piece of logic, but not anything too strange for the Dojo.
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[spoiler]Oof. Dale's axe has been changed to a Zweihander after I realized that the original axe design would provide no help in pvp because once in that range he'd only need his fists. We'll just say that he had the sword on his back?[/spoiler] "Generous. Though I suppose if it helps in cleaning the filth off the streets, [i]and[/i] puts cash in my pocket, it's better than nothing." He uncrossed his arms, wiping the palms against his shorts, and sighing. The conversation had taken a suspicious turn, to which he both welcomed and feared. He could end up caught in something bigger than him, and hurt someone else. Someone he cared about. However, desperate times called for desperate measures. "An upgrade, huh? Well, let's say I choose to take the offer, which I will, what defines 'upgrade'?"
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[spoiler]Yeah that works my guy[/spoiler] A few more taps on his watch's face signalled the drones to hover over Dale, washing him in a transparent holographic field and sending the image to Mason's personal interface. "Well let's see. Name something and I'll tell you if it's impossible or not. I'm mostly just ordered to upgrade current equipment, but the commission here says I can give you additional modules or supplements instead. That sword you have there. Drones are telling me it's well-made. Serve you well?" Mason's voice went void of all suspicion. Weapon-talk was his speciality, and his area of passion.
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Dale kept a close eye on the drones, and then moved his attention back to the man, rather slowly. His eyes remained still and dull, he was a silent, near unreadable man. But with his suspicions, he made sure to look like a stone wall. "More than you can imagine. Don't know how many trees I could fell in one throw." Throw? "But yeah- a perfect weapon for me. Allows me to crush anything I want, at a respectable distance."
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Poker face. His lack of expression said everything he didn't want to say. Gone was the warm and welcome Dale, replaced by suspicious eyes and thoughts. Rightfully so, Mason agreed. He just got a new job that made little to no sense. "Sorry, if I heard that right, felling trees? Swords don't usually cut the job for that. No pun intended." He couldn't help himself there. Basic weapons knowledge was one of his first specialized prerequisites from his former job, and it was impossible to quell all of his old habits.
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"Oh, no. I have this for a weapon, but it comes with some special abilities. Common around here, hm? Listen. This sword is capable of murdering anything I've come across... Because I am strong." He slowly pulled the weapon off his back, patting the flat of the blade in one hand, holding it by the massive hilt. "The strongest I have ever met. I have to be, to protect those I love." There was no grunt of effort as he balanced the flat end of the blade against his shoulder, with a sigh. "If this sword cannot hurt my opponent, they cannot be destroyed by physical means."
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He nodded, but admittedly, he thought Dale was being somewhat hyperbolic. While he would never make the mistake of underestimating any Dojo citizen's strength, the whole show seemed a bit theatric. "Sorry I misunderstood then. But I still think that an axe would be good for felling trees no matter what. Magic and technology can't excuse a man's misuse of his weapon." Mason silently cursed himself again. Old habits. "Anything special about it? Seems like it's well-built, but I don't take you for a one-trick pony."
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"It's heavier than it looks, but can get worse. Max weight? This thing is heavier than a tank. Literally. Combined with a good swing, it'll break through nearly anything. Other than that, it comes back to me when I call for it, and is indestructible." Quite a long list, for sure. However the power of the sword was not exaggerated in any way. It would be a deadly weapon in the hands of someone who knew how to use it.
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"Not a one-trick pony then." He suddenly threw his head back and laughed. "Boy, back in my day, I would've loved to have a go at someone like you. Where I come from, it's not everyday you get to spar someone with abilities like yourself. Alas," he gestured to his crutch, "those are bygone days. So, Dale, what do [i]you[/i] think could make that magic sword of yours more effective?"
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"I have power. I have the ability to swing this like a tooth pick. However, what I don't have is a good ranged option that can get through armor... Without having me temporarily lose my only weapon." He paused, thinking as he brought a hand to his nose, pinching the bridge for a moment. "What I need, is to be able to hit people with my sword from a range, without losing it. Make my swings travel a distance, to hit with the strength I want. A SMG won't cut through the armor you see nowadays."
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[i]Because all you people care about is getting through armour[/i], he criticized quietly, [i]nothing else.[/i] "Do you have a recall system in your sword?" he suddenly asked, "like some sort of magnetic lock, perhaps? I can't help but notice you've been mentioning throwing your blade quite often. I've seen stranger fighting styles, to be honest. But if you're looking for something more practical, maybe an automated shoulder-mounted weapon of some kind."
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"Anything that packs a ranged punch... However, I'd like to make a suggestion of an item that can get me close to an opponent. Something that disorientated them, so I can smack them with my weapon before they can shoot five baseball sized bullets into me. I'll lose in a shooting match." It seemed that he was more interested in keeping to his dangerous play of getting in close, and smacking his opponent.
