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8/7/2020 6:43:25 AM
35
*The dwarf, Dain Dunnaxe, walks into the establishment. He wears travelers clothes and a cloak, with his long beard put into a singular braid, and has his axe strapped onto his back. He comes up to the bar and takes a seat.*
“Oi, Cara, it’s been quite a while since we last met, hasn’t it? How have ye been doing?”
English
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Cara turns to Dain, a weary expression on her face. She doesn’t seem to be physically tired, but rather concerned. However, a bright smile pops onto her face upon recognizing the dwarf. She greets him on the other side of the bar. “Dain, good fellow,” she says in her familiar Irish accent. “A while too long it has been! In all honesty, I could be better today, but I’ll say the evenin’s taken a turn. And ye? Can I get ye anythin’?”
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“Aye, an ale would be nice. Whats been botherin’ ye? Anything a dwarf like meself can help with?”
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She briefly disappears in a back room, and returns with a flagon filled to the brim. She sets it carefully before Dain. “Hm, I’m not the one tha’ needs the help, I’m afraid. I’ve got a friend I’m quite concerned fer.”
-
“Is that so? What’s concerning you about them? Do they need help perhaps?”
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Cara hesitates, and crosses her arms in thought. After a second of silence, she gives a sigh. “Help she would need, surely. She’s chasin’ after someone with... bad intentions, and the last time she confronted ‘em she was almost killed. She’s got just about as much nerves as a colt feedin’ on sugar cubes, so I worry tha’ she won’ make it this time.” She looks up at Dain. “Unfortunately, there is little a barmaid can do in terms o’ combat.”
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“Well I helped ye once before, maybe I can help her. Although this place be full O’ things a line dwarf can’t even comprehend nonetheless fight.”
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“I don’ tink it’s me place ta explain it further fer ye. I can take ye to her, if ye want.” She nods towards the set of ascending stairs leading up to the bedrooms. “It may not hurt ta at least ask about it.”
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“I think that’ll be best. Let’s go see if I can help her friend.”
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“Right this way.” She makes her way up the stairs, which lead to a balcony overlooking the first floor. She pauses at the entrance of a hallway and turns to Dain. “Fourth door ta the left. If ye let her know tha’ yer a friend o’ mine, she may be quicker ta trust ye. The matter is delicate ta her.”
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“Got it.” *I shall go to the door described and knock on it.*
-
You hear some scuttling on the other side of the door before it opens to reveal a tall woman of about twenty years of age. She wears a deep blue hoodie and jeans, and her dark brown hair is pulled back into a braid. Her green eyes glance around curiously before she finally looks down to see you. “Oh, um,” she begins in a mild Scottish accent. “Hello! Is there something I can help you with?”
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“Actually, Yer friend who works in this place told me I might be able to help you. Herd ye’ve been having’ a wee bit O’ trouble.”
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A sadness comes into her eye, and she bites her lip in thought. “Um... a wee bit. How much did Cara tell you?”
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“Not much, Just That she couldn’t help with any combat part.”
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“Well... um... it’s a bit of a mess in here, but you’re welcome to come inside and I can... explain it a little more. Help... would really be appreciated, but I would hate for anyone to jump in without knowing what’s going on.”
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Edited by ImaDrizzit: 8/8/2020 4:54:48 AM“Ey, that’s fair enough. I ain’t one to not help someone who needs it though.” *He steps Inside of the room.*
-
The room is indeed a bit messy. Sketches, notes and maps are scattered over the bed on the right along with a strange glowing red orb. Discarded, crumpled up balls of paper are piled in the corner. And on the table to the left are various metal parts and tools laid about what appears to be a type of longbow of a technological design. Skye quickly begins to gather the papers on her bed, kicking the balls beneath the bed in a last ditch attempt to make the place look halfway presentable. “So... um... long story short, the person I’m after is Errol. He and his father adopted me when I was a wee lass. When I was sixteen, our father was murdered while he and I were on a hunting trip. We don’t know why it happened, and the men who did it vanished. Over time, Errol developed a desire for revenge, and created a weapon he calls his ‘Atoms’. They’re tiny red beads that he can control through the movements he makes with his hands when he is wearing a special pair of gloves. But he doesn’t just want to find those men, he also wants to ‘get rid of corruption’. But his view of it is... twisted, and he will kill innocent people if he isn’t stopped. He—he has killed innocent people here in Offtopic, as well.” She speaks as though she had told the story many times before, but it is clear to see in her posture and facial expression as she sets the stack of paper back on the bed that she is sorrowful at the subject.
-
*The dwarf thinks for a bit and processes the information, and his face gets a bit sorrowful himself.* “Im sorry for yer loss, lass, I really am. But this Errol sounds like someone who needs to be stoped and have some sense talked into em’. How do I help?”
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Skye nods solemnly at Dain’s kindness. She pulls a map out of the papers and hands it to him. On it is an island, titled the Glas Isle. “That is our homeland, and Errol is there, in an old laboratory we found years ago, at least hopefully.” She points to a mountain on the south side of the island. “I need to follow him there. I have tried speaking to him before, but as long as he has his Atoms I don’t think he will listen. The plan is to severe his connection to them, and try to... convince him to stop what he is doing. But... that means I will have to fight him, first... and I can’t do it alone.” She looks up at Dain. “If Cara trusts you, then I trust you, too. And as long as you can fight and move quickly, I’d be glad to have your help, if you are willing.”
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“Aye, I can fight like any dwarf can, and I’ll move as fast as me stubby legs can carry me.”
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She smiles gratefully. “Thank you—“ her eyes suddenly widen in embarrassment. “Andrew’s cross, I...don’t think we exchanged names! I’m so sorry... I’m Skye.”
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“Aye, names, how can I be forgettin’. I am Dain Dunnaxe O’ clan Dunnaxe clan, friends O’ the mighty class Ironbeard and nephew O’ the mighty dwarf warrior Stuttgart Stoutbrew. Fie, I should drop the titles and formalities, no one here recognizes them anyways.”
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Skye continues to smile, and whips around to grab a piece of paper and a pencil. She begins to write Dain’s name. “It’s good to meet you, Dain. I can’t say I recognize any of those titles, but they sound admirable. Thank you... thank you for offering to help. It’s been hard for me to ask for it in this.”
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“It’s no problem. I’ve been looking for work anyways.”
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“I’m afraid I don’t have enough money to repay your kindness, but since we are going to my home, I can offer you one of my father’s weapons. He was... he was a blacksmith, and made weapons ranging from guns to swords. You would be welcome to take any one of those.”
