Chronicles of the Oblivion Society

[Emeralis00 she/her]

The cacophony of unruly animals, a breeze, shouting voices, laughter, and creaking wagons contrasted sharply with the beautiful forest vista. A blade-hawk circles in the sky overhead. Arron held his cloak tighter, despite the warming morning sun, against the breeze. He quickly hurried past the settling wagons to the now-erected master's tent where there is much shouting to be heard.

A heavyset man wearing a decadent coat and trousers stands in front of the tent, shouting orders, and aide stands at his side trying desperately to get his attention.

Now for the tricky part, getting the man to listen for a few moments.

Arron deftly wades through the scurrying work-hands to the man's side.

"Excuse me sir, I sent a letter several days ago about the offer for a possible position in your troupe as a sword dancer~ne. Is the position still open~ne?"

The aide gives a dirty look as he tries to talk over Arron.

Edited October 30, 2011 by Emeralis00

[Aeshdan he/him]

Meanwhile, in Mawsbeck:

The morning after his visit to The Graceful Vendris, I-Pick-Things-Up-And-Put-Them-Down thumped his way over to the biggest lumberjack he could find.

You give me ax. I cut down trees. You cut down trees. I cut down more trees than you, I win. You cut don more trees, I win. Loser tells whole town that winner won. Either way, you show me where to put trees to get marks. Good?

[Kuri Shardweaver he/him]

"What do you MEAN it broke another set?!" Spittle flew from Cerdic's oft-facetious lips as he raised a ledger book purely to slap it against a meaty palm, the aide jumping satisfactorily to the sharp sound. It was a purely rhetorical question, this they both knew, as he flipped through the parchment within the binding.

A frustrated hiss escaped the gap between his front teeth. "That's the fifth set of manacles, Jenkins. FIFTH. Manacles aren't cheap!! I have had it with that beast!! It was expensive enough catching the damnable thing, I had to pay..." Cerdic shuddered. The word left a horrid, awful taste in his mouth.

"Compensation..to those men." Bushy black eyebrows furrowed in thought as the ringmaster weighed his options. "Slap the Binder's Cuffs on it."

"..Sir?" Jenkins looked up in astonishment.

"You heard me, you blathering idiot. That thing is a gold mine, and I'm going to milk it for every last drop until we can catch that-.."

The conversation was cut short as a figure approached.

"Excuse me sir, I sent a letter several days ago about the offer for a possible position in your troupe as a sword dancer~ne. Is the position still open~ne?"

Ah. This man. Honestly, he had not expected much to come of the job posting. Anyone who could actually handle a sword generally joined the guard, or ran off with dreams of the Conflux in their eyes...everyone else....well, there was a reason they needed a new sword dancer in the first place. This man, however, he looked like he might fit the bill.

Cerdic wasn't about to tell him that, though. Confidence had a funny way of making people expect things. Like decent wages or..ugh..benefits.

"I am a bit preoccupied by more important business at the moment, child. Jenkins, take our guest here to...whatever's available. I'll come by and take a look at what you can do when I finish up here. And Jenkins?" The aide snapped to attention. "THEN take care of the..other matter we discussed."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was two hours before Cerdic remembered he had an interview to conduct after 'more pressing matter' (of which included lunch in his private wagon and a hot bath. With a huff he entered the patchwork tent Jenkins had deposited the hopeful in, and crossed his arms over a thick chest.

"You've got 1 minute. Impress me."

[Emeralis00 she/her]

Arron had been guided to a tent by the aide, who hadn't spoken the entire time. With nothing else to do, Arron took the time to practice some of his sword stances and think up some new ideas, followed by general maintenance of his tools. Having completed that in about an hour, Arron used the time to catch up on some light reading from a book in one of his cloak's pockets. When the man in charge entered, Arron put the book away and rose.

So short. Well, I have to make the best of this.

Arron bowed, then drew his pair of sword dancing swords. They were curved at the tips and about a foot and a half long. The pommels were heavy rings and the cross-guards were thin so that they would vibrate and hum as the swords moved through the air.

Immediately Arron spun into action. The swords appeared to twist and strike at each other like snakes, though it was, of course, and optical illusion. Suddenly Arron reached into his cloak, guiding the swords only with his arms and the movement of his body. Out he pulled two Whitestems, a fruit known for its hard outer skin. Spinning one in each hand, Arron guided one of the swords into a high arc and the other to touch the man on each arm and leg, then into its sheath. Arron stepped back, and the other sword fell into its sheath as well. Finishing the dance, Arron held out both fruits, each of which had been cut into six equal pieces. Arron did this all without using Leyht.

"care to enjoy one?"

Edited March 5, 2012 by Emeralis00

[Kuri Shardweaver he/him]

There was a distinct ringing in Cerdic's ears..the sound of marks rapidly sliding against one another as a coffer was stuffed. He fought to suppress the wide grin that wanted to break out on his equally wide face. Didn't want the guy to get a big head, after all.

Instead, he picked up a piece of the fruit to inspect it.

"Not bad. But can you keep that up all day? Enough to keep a revolving crowd interested and possibly coming back for more?"

[Emeralis00 she/her]

"At that speed? Probably for a few minutes~ne. There is a slower version that allows a greater range of movement that I can do for several hours non-stop~ne. Haal style sword dancing was meant for entertaining crowds so it offers a wide variety of options and flexibility to include other forms of entertainment as well as last until the end of the show~ne."

And it also provides the basis for a martial art called Rien, but that isn't important to this conversation.

Arron sits back down, peeling the skin of the fruit and eating each piece slowly.

"Provided I get rest at some point, I can sword dance for a while."

[Kuri Shardweaver he/him]

Cerdic let loose a breathy harumph. "Well, fine. Should still do fairly well at a slower speed, I guess."

Now came the part he always dreaded when it came to new hires. "Right then. Let's talk...salary."

[Emeralis00 she/her]

Arron waves his hand in negation.

"That will not be necessary ~ne. My family provides me with all the money I need~ne. I simply do not like to travel alone~ne. Traveling with others has better benefits~ne. I only need food and a place to stay, while I wander~ne."

True for the most part. Though the money I get from my chapter-house isn't all that large, but its not like I need that much either.

[Kuri Shardweaver he/him]

There was a very distinct noise. A choking sort of noise. The type of sound a man makes when something takes him so completely by surprise that he nearly swallows his own tongue in shock.

This sound was quite assuredly originating from Cerdic.

"Y...y-you do not need to be PAID?!" The paperwork tucked into his jacket pocket was almost shredded by the fury with which it was produced. Where the quill and inkpot came from was a mystery, however. "Sign here, here, initial here, and a name and address of your next of kin here, just as a precaution of course.."

[Emeralis00 she/her]

Arron signs his name after quickly glancing over the paperwork. Standard stuff for the most part, but the parts about waiving the right to injury compensation were a bit troubling. No matter, it was what Arron expected. After all, the Oblivion Society gave him this mission and missions were never fun and frolic.

"If you don't mind sir, I would like to get situated~ne. Where will I be staying~ne?"

[Kuri Shardweaver he/him]

"Right, right, of course!" The parchment snapped up into a perfect roll and vanished back into Cerdic's ridiculous coat as swiftly as it had appeared. Was the ink even dry yet? The man's broad grin almost rivaled his broad girth, making his way to the entrance of the tent.

"I trust you won't be requiring much in the form of space? Didn't seem to be packing much in the way of personal belongings, I'm told! Still, I've got a good few vacancies in my quarter-wagons, so you're welcome to take your pick! Ah! And of course, I bid you a fond welcome to the Bizarre Bazaar!! May it be a fortuitous contract for the both of us, hm?"

[Emeralis00 she/her]

Oh welcome indeed.

Arron nods then extends his hand to shake.

"I would like to see the quarters if possible~ne. I don't keep many belongings, though some friends of mine like to know where I am~ne, so they may pop in at times to say hi as well as manage my belongings~ne."

EDIT: forgot Arron's speech quirks

Edited May 4, 2012 by Emeralis00

[Kuri Shardweaver he/him]

Taking the man's hand in a firm grasp, Cerdic nodded. "I have a few minutes, I can show you around a little bit. What you do on your personal time is your own business, of course! Just make it clear to your...friends..that they'll have to pony up a few marks if they try hitching a ride! I don't take lightly to stowaways and freeloaders, I'll have you know!"

Moving along the line of wagons and tents, the ringmaster spared a few booming words to hasten his underlings in their work as they traversed the camp. Being the boss was hard work, sometimes. Finally, the duo arrived at a grouping of slightly-less-garishly colored wagons, very similar in size and shape. "These are the living quarters..anything that's got some type of banner hanging off its pole is taken, mind, but the rest are empty right now."

[Emeralis00 she/her]

Arron looks around then steps inside the nearest available wagon, through the rear door. The inside was...less than spacious, but not all that uncomfortable. It consisted off a raised mat for a bed, a cupboard, and a small stove shoved in a corner with a chimney attached to the roof. Checking the other open wagons yielded similar results. Arron settled on a green-ish one with silver wheels and bright orange trimming.

Do I need to make a banner or is there one in the wagon? I don't really have anything to spare to use as one.

Arron checks if there is anyone around to ask.

[ooc]Oops, sorry. I forgot about this game in the face of life. I should be able to post more if anyone else remembers it exists. [/ooc]

[Kuri Shardweaver he/him]

After a bit of searching about, it was not too hard for Arron to find something that would suffice for a banner. There was enough garishly colorful rubbish about to tie together several different combinations that were not already in use.

((OoC: It's perfectly alright, everyone's been pretty busy; myself included. Hopefully we'll be able to rekindle this fire in the near future. ))

[Emeralis00 she/her]

After making a suitable banner and tying it to the pole, Arron found a relatively isolated spot between a couple wagons and, after checking to see if anyone was watching, awoke his scout. The bat shaped creature crawled from underneath his cloak into his hands and blinked up at him. The bat thing was cute in a creepy sort of way, but Arron ignored it's appearance. Instead, he concetrated upon his focusing galnd as it began to twitch and become a small point of pain. Drawing upon the closest available leyline, he poured a large amount of Leyht into it and silently commanded it to fly around above the camp and get an overview of the entire thing. It took off in a flutter. Arron went for a walk, it was better to get both an air and ground view, and he ordered the bat to land in a different location anyway.

[Kuri Shardweaver he/him]

From above or by foot, the camp largely appeared to be nothing particularly exciting. Somewhat strange individuals practiced relatively mundane methods of entertaining people with nothing better to do with their time and money, beasts were goaded into petty stunts, and so on.

One area in particular, however, stuck out like the proverbial sore thumb. Primarily because it was heavily guarded, and by that meaning there WERE guards, unlike the great majority of the rest of the camp, but also due to it being somewhat removed from the rest of said camp. One wagon, mostly unadorned, save for heavy iron barring securing thick wooden planks on all sides of it.

And occasionally, it would rock, as if whatever was contained within it was thrashing about.