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originally posted in:The New Dojo
11/17/2017 2:13:05 AM
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[b]Once he exited, he came to a long wooden hallway filled with other doors, similar to a hotel of sorts. The hallway led to a dead end to the right, but lead to another door on his left. Several people started to come out of their own doors, of all sorts of species and race. [/b]
English
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[i]Placing a hand against the wall and holding his forehead with the other, he made his way down the hallway slowly but surely, following the other people as they went down the hallway. [/i]
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[b]When he reached the door and opened it, he was welcomed by the smell of grilling sausages and cooking waffles. Chatter echoed in the large dining hall, made entirely out of dark wood, with tree roots sprouting from the walls or floor occasionally. Dale saw him come out and approached with a huff.. [/b] You out, tiger?
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"Out? Out of what? And don't call me Tiger, the name's Alric." [i]The man, Alric, replied with a gruff voice, dropping his hand off the wall and to his side. [/i] "Where the hell am I?"
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Welcome to a Good Knight's Night inn. The best sleep you'll ever have, and the best sausage in town. [b]Almost on cue, his partner Elincia threw a sausage at Dale, who caught it, took a bit and spoke while chewing.[/b] You seemed way to tipsy last night to be safe, so we decided to give you a place to rest. [b]He swallowed the bite and spoke again, waving to a knight with a frog like head as he walked by. [/b] Otherwise you might have ended up on the street.
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"Tipsy, you said? Explains the hangover then...." [i]The man mumbled, mostly to himself as if he had forgotten the events from last night. [/i] "I thank you for your hospitality ser, but I am sure you wish for something in return. Name your price, who do you wish dead?"
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Dead? Hm... The word dead carries a lot of weight to it, lugging it around and throwing it about is a bad way to live. [b]He thought for a moment, before speaking again, his eyes seemingly now focused on a crack in the ceiling. [/b] If you don't have money, I suppose we'll let this slide, perhaps you'll do some cleaning. If not, you have to promise to come back.
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"You seem to misunderstand, ser. I have the money to pay, but I am a killer. They call me the Bloody Witcher, and I live up to the name. An assassin of sorts, if it pleases you." [i]The man stated, drumming his fingers along the hilt of the blade at his hip. [/i] "You allowed me to spend a night in this establishment, without reason, without merit. An honourable deed, which is to be met with a deed as well. Any of your competitors, I will kill. Any of your enemies, I will kill. I do not throw the word around, ser. I throw their heads off. "
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[b]He smiled at the assassin, scratching his thin beard, and spoke once more, moving his hand to the back of his head. [/b] You see the problem is, I don't have any enemies, nor plan on making any. If you really feel like playing a blood price... [b]He placed his right hand on his chin, and supported his elbow with his left hand. He thought for a moment, and spoke. [/b] If I come across anyone who I think is a threat to me or my family's safety, can I count on you to help?
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"I swear upon my blade I will come if you call for my assistance." [i]Alric nodded his head, bowing slightly at the man before him. [/i]
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Uh, sure man. Well, if you want to sit down for a meal go 'head. I'll join you in a bit, just give me a moment to find a table. [b]He went off, swerving between the circular tables before finding an empty one and waving the assassin over. [/b]
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[i]The Witcher sighed to himself, reaching his hand up and playing with the cat headed medallion in the center of his chest. After a moment of thought, he weaved through the crowd of people and slid into a chair at the table, making himself comfortable. [/i]
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[b]Pulling a chair from a nearby table, Dale squatted on it, leaning forward with one hand on his knee, the other on the back of the chair. [/b] I'm gonna ask some questions, if you feel uncomfortable just say pass. The first is your full name, for hotel log books, the next is whether you prefer waffles or cereal. [b]Letting go of the chair back, he leaned towards it and crossed his arms. [/b] And the third, do you feel pride in your work?
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"Alric, The Bloody Witcher. Don't have a last name, that's all I know about." [i]The man put his hands in his lap, locking his fingers together. [/i] "What the fock is cereal? Or waffles?" [i]He raised an eyebrow, clearly curious about the two food items. [/i] "And no, I'm not exactly proud of my work. I prefer monster hunting over human hunting, but the former doesn't have much business here."
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Cereal is oats, soaked in milk, you eat it with a spoon. Waffles is dough shows with magic into a grid like pattern and covered with sugar. Good stuff. [b]The woman from last night placed down two bowls of soaked oats, as well as a kiss on Dale's head, before walking off once more, leaving the two alone. [/b] It's nice, knowing I have an ally in time s of need to protect the ones I love. Thanks.
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"Huh... Always enjoyed a good chicken in the morning more." [i]Alric laughed, pulling the cereal toward himself. [/i] "I owe you a debt, there is no thanks necessary. Though, I would care for something in return. Your name, ser."
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Dale Morrison. The woman who just served us is Elincia Morrison, my wife. You can see why I want her protected, haha! [b]His hearty laughter echoed in the tavern, slightly above the rest of the chatter. A few people looked, but most were used to it by now. [/b] But really, thanks. If there's anything you need done, short murder, I'll do it for a fair price. Just hit this place up again.
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"Perhaps I will... I've been frequenting that Lounge of Blades, but there's too many warriors there. This place seems... Nice." [i]It was... A compliment that much was sure. [/i]
