[OPEN] Friendless
Roana Steadman
Soldier

Age: 27 | Height: 5'8" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 6 - Strg: 24 - Dext: 26 - Endr: 24 - Luck: 11
Played by: Grant Offline
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Posts: 758
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#1
Roana
No, I don't wanna sit still, look pretty
It never bothered Roana before, going to the bar, having a drink alone to unwind after work. Suddenly it made her feel incredibly alone.

She sat in a corner of the Rathskeller, reading a book she had found in the Atheneum, a bag filled with more at her feet. She was studying the text, writing notes occasionally in a small leatherbound journal, her lips curved down and brows furrowed in thought. The large mug of ale next to her hand went nearly untouched, burying herself in studies to ignore the fact that she was indeed, very much alone in a place of socialization. Roana had been doubted many times in her life. People had told her that she could not accomplish a great many number of things. To be discounted was not new to her. But to be hated with such passion based on so little was new and cumbersome to her mind as much as she tried to push it away.

So she did what she did best and buckled down. She had found ever shred and scrap of information she could on the deities, on the Voice, on the war, the barrier - anything that might lend clues not just to what had happened, but weaknesses the new goddess she had helped unleash might have; any tiny morsel of knowledge that might help in her charge against the woman who had wrought so much pain on Caido. It was the least she could do, and she would put her all into it, whether or not she had many friends to assist her.
Are Jormsson
Cobbler / Leatherworker

Age: 23 | Height: 6'4" (193cm) | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 3 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 6
Played by: Wiggen Offline
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#2


Are
Even though hacking away at the worn post, practicing discipline more than anything, at least was better than slamming one's head into the paper wall that was a musty old tome on the ort of stonecutting, it didn't help breaking the monotony of the everyday rut. Not that drowning the growing sense of impending doom in a tankard or six of ale would make it go away tough. Probably would only make it grow even stronger as soon as it returned. 'Probably' was enough of a chance that things would be all fine and dandy to at least give it a shot. So as the last rays of daylight touched his workbench he got out of hus grubby workwear and into something that would at least not get him kicked out for smelling like tannery, and into a flask to get him well started on the evenings festivities.

Already properly sloshed, Are stumbled through the door as carefully as one would expect a drunk bear to. Aided by enough liquid courage and poor judgement to shout a greeting the whole Rathskeller and not worry about the grumbled replies. A ship set sail on rough seas, slowly making it's way towards the lit beacon singing promises of ale for a throat left parched by a flask ran out half way from home. Peering through the crowd returned only dismissive faces, Are wasn't keen on drinking with neighbors he barely got along with as is, further bothering them seemed a tad foolish, even for the clueless cobbler.

A familiar figure caught his eye just as the tankard ran dry, and after replenishing the stores the ship set out again. This time almost running aground on a bard and a game of dice. "Heill, friend!" he bellowed as he fell into a chair opposite the hero. "You seem mighty somber for such a night, trouble?" voice lowering as he leaned in and tried to keep from blowing out Roana's ears.
Force and magic use OK.
Roana Steadman
Soldier

Age: 27 | Height: 5'8" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 6 - Strg: 24 - Dext: 26 - Endr: 24 - Luck: 11
Played by: Grant Offline
Change author:
Posts: 758
MP:
#3
Roana
No, I don't wanna sit still, look pretty
”Heill, friend!”

Roana would know that greeting anywhere, and glanced up upon hearing it. Based on the way the cobbler-soon-to-be-warrior wobbled as he walked, it was pretty clear he was already about three sheets to the wind. A small grin curved her lips and she chuckled a bit as he unceremoniously plopped down into the chair across from her. ”You’ve this very peculiar habit of showing up out of nowhere, Are. If I didn’t know better I’d accuse you of stalking me.” she said with a light laugh.

At his question she shrugged and gestured to the barrier of empty tables that separated her from the rest of the bar crowd. ”I am in a bar, alone, being purposefully avoided. Being rather friendless in a crowded room does tend to make one somber.” she said with a sigh, closing the book she had been reading with a bit more force than was necessary. ”And none of these books have anything useful in them at all. No clues as to what the Voice’s weaknesses might be. No clues about how she was even trapped in the first place. No clues about the extent of her power.” Roana sighed and ran a hand through her reddish brown hair, tousling it with frustration. ”Awfully hard to fight a foe you know nothing of.”
Are Jormsson
Cobbler / Leatherworker

Age: 23 | Height: 6'4" (193cm) | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 3 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 6
Played by: Wiggen Offline
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Posts: 301
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#4


Are
"You give my subtlety far too much credit, or you're far too harsh on your own perception" he retorted and laughed, but bit his tongue to as to let her speak her mind. Nothing like being alone in a room full of people and beset by a drunkard not knowing when to keep quiet and listen.

The smile washed off of him as she voiced her frustration with the matter at hand and the state of the room. He looked down at the table, tracing a deep scratch and chewing the inside of his cheek as he pondered the fact of the matter that a clear foe didn't mean much more than you knew the 'who'. All that was needed was the 'how'. He didn't really know if it was just a bout of his normal brashness and idiocy or if it was something summoned by the spirits and the half three-quarter tankard of ale sloshing around his belly. Disregarding the fact that it was a stupid idea, it was still an idea worth giving a voice. Before the voice turned slurring and mumbling in Norse.

"I... I'm sorry to hear, Roana." he said and looked up, his eyes lingering for a moment, studying her as if searching for something to dissuade him from keep down the planned path. No matter how much he looked he never found that sharp, dismissive bite he'd so come to expect from a mentor. A better man, to think before one spoke, still a promise he meant to keep, but he was done thinking.

"Forgive my dim witted musings, but..." Are paused, trying to find the right words to clad his idea in. "Who knows her best?" he asked, settling on a vague question for now.
Force and magic use OK.
Roana Steadman
Soldier

Age: 27 | Height: 5'8" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 6 - Strg: 24 - Dext: 26 - Endr: 24 - Luck: 11
Played by: Grant Offline
Change author:
Posts: 758
MP:
#5
Roana
No, I don't wanna sit still, look pretty
”Perhaps a bit of both, eh?” she said with a small grin, finally taking a drink of the ale in her mug. She was growing frustrated with the hunting for knowledge. To be on the safe side she took the book and tucked it into her bag. That way if anyone spilled their drink Are, it wouldn’t be too much of an issue. She had promised to bring the books back to the Athenaeum in the same condition she’d found them in after all.

”You’re not dim. Don’t talk down about yourself.” she said on reflex. Roana tilted her head to the side as she considered his question though. ”I suppose the gods would, honestly.” she said with a sigh, taking another drink from her mug. ”Though I don’t know how willing they would be to speak with me about it.” she said.
Are Jormsson
Cobbler / Leatherworker

Age: 23 | Height: 6'4" (193cm) | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 3 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 6
Played by: Wiggen Offline
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Posts: 301
MP:
#6


Are
He considered her point, another arrow in the quiver he had began stocking the moment his mind took off with the question. Gods sure could make up what couldn't be gleamed from books or by simply asking around, although as he'd come to find, they where keenly aware of their upper hand in most dealings with mortals. The 'anything' he'd promised on a whim making him flush with shame. One day dismiss a god and calling them trickster while the very next one offering up anything for something he'd find almost had become his weakness.

Are shook his head, trying to clear away the reminder of his previous idiocy and steady the room somewhat. Succeeding at only one, but enough that he could suppress the other. "Gods, huh? Sure, but that's asking a bit much, no? What about her children?" he asked and leaned back in his chair, triumphantly nodding at his, to him, unusually clever idea. "What do they know that maybe even the gods don't?"
Force and magic use OK.
Roana Steadman
Soldier

Age: 27 | Height: 5'8" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 6 - Strg: 24 - Dext: 26 - Endr: 24 - Luck: 11
Played by: Grant Offline
Change author:
Posts: 758
MP:
#7
Roana
No, I don't wanna sit still, look pretty
Roana shrugged a bit. ”My sister-in-law asked a god for a dragon and they gave it to her.” she said. She figured asking a god for a dragon was much more than asking a god for the inside scoop on the goddess they all loathed. But then again, Phoebe seemed to be a hell of a lot luckier than she ever had been. It took Roana a second to figure out what Are meant by ‘her children’ though.

”Oh the ascended?” she said and shook her head. ”The gods can read people’s minds. I don’t think there is anything that they would know that the gods wouldn’t. Besides, I am not certain she would tell them that much about herself. Part of power is the appearance of power. If she tells them all her weaknesses, she would lose that.” she said, tilting her head to the side contemplatively. ”Though, I suppose one of her strengths are the Ascended. If I could find a way around that, it would be helpful…”
Are Jormsson
Cobbler / Leatherworker

Age: 23 | Height: 6'4" (193cm) | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 3 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 6
Played by: Wiggen Offline
Change author:
Posts: 301
MP:
#8


Are
Just about ready to accept anything he was told about the strange world he nodded as if being gifted a dragon from the gods was a perfectly mundane thing. Nothing to raise an eyebrow at, not that anything seemed worthy of more than a sigh, a glance at the skies and a whispered 'why?'. "Draugr, dragons and gods, eh?" he said with an exasperated sigh from the comfort of the crook of his arm. Are couldn't even remember exactly how far into thought process he'd gotten before he gave up on trying to come to grips with it all. After all, understanding was for greater men, he was content with just knowing the 'what' and 'when'.

"Ascended, ass-ended. Cold and slippery, just like her." he grumbled and sat back up. A tiny tantrum and a swig of ale was all he needed to get his mind back on track. Back to trying to make heads and tails of the whole situation he'd purposefully stumbled into. Why did it have to be so difficult? It was just a matter of taking down a god, couldn't it be just another simple hurdle to overcome. Like the barrier, or the bloodthirsty Álfar... "Why couldn't it? Are whispered to himself and perked up, stroking his chin and staring deep into the almost empty tankard. He was a simple man after all, and simple solutions suited him fine. A warrior should fight to their strengths after all. "You know what? Brash as it might seem, why not just ask? As a matter of fact, I'll even do it myself!" he exclaimed, patted himself on the back and downed the last of the ale, far too pleased with his idea.
Force and magic use OK.
Roana Steadman
Soldier

Age: 27 | Height: 5'8" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 6 - Strg: 24 - Dext: 26 - Endr: 24 - Luck: 11
Played by: Grant Offline
Change author:
Posts: 758
MP:
#9
Roana
No, I don't wanna sit still, look pretty
The former captain laughed a bit and nodded. ”Yes, dragons and gods. Quite the fantasy we live in.” she said. It was a bit hard to believe at times, all the mystical beings and creatures that resided in Caido, some of which were beyond her wildest imaginings in her former life. But now it was the world in which she resided, one she hope she could help in someway.

She grinned at his joke. ”Hey now, just because she is our enemy doesn’t mean we need to despise her followers. I am sure there are some good eggs amongst them as there are bad ones amongst us.” she said, not wanting to start any more blood feuds than there already were. She hoped to find some solution where the majority of the consequences fell on the shoulders of the Voice after all, and not on her followers. She tilted her head though when he announced he would start asking them questions though, laughing lightly under her breath. ”Now Are, let me tell you some advice my brother once gave me – always sleep on drunk decisions.” she said.
Are Jormsson
Cobbler / Leatherworker

Age: 23 | Height: 6'4" (193cm) | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 3 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 6
Played by: Wiggen Offline
Change author:
Posts: 301
MP:
#10


Are
Drunk and brave as he might've been he still harboured little hate for the children of The Voice. Yet not acknowledging how their ties to her could outweigh any willingness to do good seemed a touch too foolish, even to Are. Although he'd learned his lesson about blurting out whatever his heart desired, so he bit his tongue, content with letting the ideas stew 'til a more opportune moment showed itself.

The jovial cobbler grew quiet and seemingly brooding for a moment, averting his gaze, chewing on both a question and the inside of his cheek. He started, stopped, and pondered for another moment. The words where there, just in the wrong order and language to both make sense and not illicit the same kind of scolding his musings on their situation had. "Them... The, uh, as-ended." he piped up at last, peering over the rim of a tankard in dire need of a refill. "There might be as you say, 'good eggs', among them. But how do one sort the good ones from the bad when all are sailing in the same ship towards the same shore? Steered by the same helmsman and rowing all together? What's to say sinking the whole ship isn't the safest bet?" Are whispered, at least he would have had he not been all to busy trying to keep his words in line and not floating away like a flock of unruly sheep. Her reminder of his brashness, especially in his barely upright state, just illicited a barely audible, grumble. Something about a better man and a stronger man.
Force and magic use OK.
Roana Steadman
Soldier

Age: 27 | Height: 5'8" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 6 - Strg: 24 - Dext: 26 - Endr: 24 - Luck: 11
Played by: Grant Offline
Change author:
Posts: 758
MP:
#11
Roana
No, I don't wanna sit still, look pretty
Roana's whole demeanor changed as Are aired his question, growing tense and serious. There was a slight frown tugging the corners of her lips as she considered him, crossing her arms and leaning against the table. "Because sinking the whole ship is called genocide, and only the most heinous and vile of people commit it." she said seriously, her tone leaving no room for question. "People do not follow those who cause them harm willingly, not unless they are particularly manipulative. Whatever the Voice offers the Ascended improves their lives in their perspective, and we must always respect that. What we don't have to accept is her actions that bring harm to the rest of the world, that is why she is our target, not the Ascended as a whole." she said, a note of finality in her voice.

With a sigh, she leaned back in her chair and took a long drink from her mug, letting the effects of the alcohol soothe her nerves. Her tolerance was quite high, so she was far from drunk or even tipsy, but it did help take the edge off. "That isn't of course to say we will not come to blows with the Ascended, I am certain we will in fact. But we mustn't lose sight of the primary target whilst in the weeds of warfare."
Are Jormsson
Cobbler / Leatherworker

Age: 23 | Height: 6'4" (193cm) | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 3 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 6
Played by: Wiggen Offline
Change author:
Posts: 301
MP:
#12


Are
Her turn of both tone and demeanor should had been enough to clue him in to the fact that whatever line of thinking he'd gone down would not be considered further, lest he wanted to start even more trouble. Even though he probably knew better than to even considered it he couldn't fully close the door on the idea. Of course the hero would never go anywhere near such a horrific thought, of course she would see to it that it never came to that, that it could be won before. Still, the cobbler asked himself, what if it wasn't? Would the enemy stick to the high and honorable path like he knew Roana would? Just as the question pointed at his friend he knew the answer to the one aimed at himself before he ever had a chance to voice it.

Although he wasn't drunk enough to protest, not drunk enough to air his musings on war. War was better left to the warriors after all. That didn't stop Are from making several attempts at getting his train of thought to reignite and to muster enough fire to push his luck. A few 'uhm' and 'ah' later he resigned himself to silent disagreement, slumping down in his chair and crossing his arms like a child told to not chase the cat. A drunk child the size of a man and a half far too concerned with a lofty goal he didn't stop to think about the path there, and how he was advocating it be paved with victims if need be.

At last he picked up the pieces of his scuffed ego and got up. "I trust you to do what's right, and thus I follow. If you excuse me for a moment, I'm a bit parched after that scolding." he grumbled and went to have his empty tankard refilled, although more to get a short respite before returning and unceremoniously falling into his chair.
Force and magic use OK.
Roana Steadman
Soldier

Age: 27 | Height: 5'8" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 6 - Strg: 24 - Dext: 26 - Endr: 24 - Luck: 11
Played by: Grant Offline
Change author:
Posts: 758
MP:
#13
Roana
No, I don't wanna sit still, look pretty
That he acted so childish following her strong words only proved that he was in fact quite drunk. She sighed, a smile tugging on her lips as he walked back to the bar to get another drink to soothe his bruised pride. When he returned she leaned back in her seat, arms crossed as she considered him.

"What you suggested would be the easiest course." she admitted to him, to give him a little bit of credit. Because it was true. If you wiped out the entirety of an enemy, then the problem was gone. "But that doesn't make it right. Rarely is the easiest course the right course. If we lose sight of what is right, we are no different than our enemies." she said, explaining herself more fully so he could understand.
Are Jormsson
Cobbler / Leatherworker

Age: 23 | Height: 6'4" (193cm) | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 3 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 6
Played by: Wiggen Offline
Change author:
Posts: 301
MP:
#14


Are
She was far too right for him to voice any disagreement more than a, by a mouthful of ale, muffled grumble. The inch he was given in return was at least enough to placate his sore ego enough to keep the stupid ideas flowing. He set the tankard down just a hair too hard, eyes suddenly perking up but just as quickly returning to the hazy squint, doused by a good few bucketfuls of sense he misplaced a few drinks back. The cycle repeated itself as he laboriously worked through another bunch of brash ideas, discarding them all and settling for the least bad of the bunch.

"Right or not, at some point it might not be a matter of who's right, only who's left." he said, trying to keep his tone serious but failing in a bout of giggles at his, to him, very adept play on words. He took a deep breath and for a moment considered the seriousness of the matter. 'A better man' seemed to had gone out the window with the first pint and in his stead a would be warrior making quips and giggling about genocide was left. "Sorry..." Are said, smile fading as he regained control of his mood. "I see your point though, and trust me, even I know it's a last resort and not the right way. What is though?"
Force and magic use OK.


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