Bathos of Blades

[BathosAndPathos]

The door crashed open, patrons looking up as their mellow drinking becomes disturbed by a flurry of snowflakes, slurrying and wetting the floor as they quickly melted before the fire, like soldiers before a hail of arrows.

Outlined was a monster of a man, almost filling the entire frame, before he entered the room, shaking the snow off his shoulders. Attired for winter, the man was clad in leather and fur, a chainmail vest on his chest and a typical snow scarf wrapped around his head - obscuring his features completely. A waraxe was slung over his shoulder, runes coating the handle.

A small, portly man ran up to him, cheeks flushed in a ruddy hue, quickly noting the man's barbarian garb. He primped at his own clothing, strutting like a peacock in mating season, and shrilly asked, "And what may I do for you this lovely summer evening, mine fine sir?"

Glaring balefully at the innkeeper, the warrior slowly unwrapped the scarf, before growling, "Firewine and a room. Quickly." He turned away, taking a seat close to the hearth, and the people around him edged away - disturbed by his rough, bearlike features.

Scuttling off, the tavernkeep searched through the back wall of his bar, for the bottle of firewine he'd hoped to savour tonight, and cursed quietly about the will of the divine. His hands alighted upon it, and he crabbily made his way back - scowl quickly turning into a smile as he came back to the fur-coated mad man. "Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?" he enquired, trying to avert his eyes from the man's.

"Give me directions to the Blackstar Dojo, and I will not question you after tonight," the man gruffly replied, "I have heard they train anyone, even such as me."

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(( In case you didn't guess, my character's the hulking barbarian with an attitude problem. He's fairly skilled with an axe, and has a wisdom developed from a harsh philosophy of life in death from the northern tundras. There're also some other surprises I may spring upon you along the way. :p ))

[KC11]

((Welcome to the Dojo, Bathos. I would be assuming that this is an RP, and so according to this you haven't reached Blackstar yet. My character can guide you there, if you'd like. Or you can just move along your merry way, either way.))

[LordPsycho]

"Why would anyone want to go there anymore? I've heard their head teacher died recently. Turns out he was some sort of God, yet he still died! Now why would you want to study at a place that lets that type teach?"

The voice came from a man having a drink in the corner table. He had his back to the corner, but he wore a cloak that covered his face. He set his drink down, and from the movement of the hood one could tell he looked up at the stranger, wanting an answer.

[Maraha]

A girl looking to be around 14 years of age sat in yet another corner. She looked up from her fruity, non-alcoholic drink and grinned at the cloaked man. "Hm-hm, but it rains oranges! Any place that rains delicious fruit is fine in my book." She chuckled before taking a sip from her drink. Triste was sitting in a chair at her table. He glared at the girl for a moment before speaking. "Shut up, Maraha, and hurry up with that drink, I want to go home."

The girl, seemingly named Maraha, arched a brow as she stared at Triste. "If you want to leave so badly, then go ahead and leave. I don't need a babysitter, good grief..."

Triste rolled his eyes, if a fly decided to speak up and threaten to harm her, she'd wimp out and hide inside her hat. "Sure, Maraha. Sure."

[Kazumaru]

A man with a black cloak covering his entire body and head looked up from his drink, which, despite him having been holding it for a fair while, he hadn't taken a sip of.

The man in the hood speaks the truth. he said. You'd do best to bring a book.

Beside him, a similarly-cloaked rat squeaked.

[KC11]

"Oy." said one girl from her place at another table. She was dressed in a dark purple cloak, and seemed to be in her early teens. A bit of dark brown hair showed from beneath the cloak, and she had dark blue eyes. She stood up from the table where she was at, showing that she was actually very tall. "You're looking for the Blackstar Dojo?" asked the girl, walking over to the madman. She had an oddly Irish accent. "Looking for training, as you put it? I happen to know where it is. I go there on holiday quite a bit."

She sighed, staring off into space for a while. "It's a nice place. As Maraha said, it rains oranges. And party horns. And money. There's no limit as to what can drop from the sky. A water gun hit me on the head once."

She sighed, turning back to the madman. "It's an odd place. Perfect for an odd person, such as myself." At this, she turned her eyes to the floor.

[Swix]

A woman in a black dress sat at Marahas table, nursing a pint of beer. The woman was quite slim and had light skin, though her long hair was quite dark. If looked at closely however, one would find that her hair actually possessed lots of different colours, from blonde to ginger to the predominant brown. Her eyes were quite dark as well, though again if looked at closer you could see that both had a ring of light greenish yellow on the outside. She carried a small bag with her, with a label attached to it just in case anyone got any ideas.

"You know what Maraha" she said, peering at Triste "your friend's quite the pushy one"

Whilst she had no outward signs of power, she didn't seem at all like she considered herself weak. Evil Swix smiled at her fellow council members, as much as something that unnerving could be called a smile. Their idea of a night out wasn't such a bad one after all.

((AKA Greetings Bathos, welcome to the Dojo))