RP:Clarence Mourns

From HollowWiki

Kelay Tavern:

Clarence is sitting slumped at his table, listlessly staring into a beer in front of him with red-rimmed eyes.

Edan couldn't help, but to wonder. The feet of the vampiric avians move out fo the booth he was sitting in to the table the baker was occupying. "Hello." Edan smiles as he sits down, "I am Edan Molerak, and I was curious are you new in the lands of Hollow?"

Clarence drank a beer.

Merle appears from the south.

Merle looked at you.

Clarence looks blearily up at Edan. "Huh? Wha? Naw man." He slides the now-empty glass aside and waves for another. "If'n you don' mind, I got some more drinking ta do. Only way to get through life, one beer at a time."

Edan laughed as the man before him said this. "He. Well. That stuff right there yer drinking is gross.

Merle made her way into the establishment. Burning emerald hues would scan over the patrons as she studied their movement. Flame could be seen dancing in her eyes. Smoke would wrap and twirl around her legs, thick and graceful, dancing around the vampiress's small frame. A strong aura would pulse around the woman, something seemed very evil about her. She looked to be hovering over the floor, legs no where to be traced; ghost-like. Long ebony locks of hair would float behind her like snake perched upon her head. Taking recod of all the faces, she would take her seat. A smirk twisted upon her almost perfect face. Pulling and lifting to show one pearly white fang.

Clarence mutters something unintelligible into his glass as he takes another drink. He sets the glass back down a little too hard, sloshing some over the edge and onto the table, then glares up at Edan. "And if yer going to be all laughing, go do it somewhere else, would ya? I got no stomach for it right now."

Athxess is sitting at the bar, amber bottle in his ebony colored hand, as the one covered, and wrapped in smoke arrived and her emerald eyes scanned the establishment's patrons, the one copper eye viable would meet her pricing gaze with out flinching.

Edan sits back on the table cussing under his breathe.

Clarence nods. "Better." He tilts his head back and takes another swallow. "To life! May it rot in hell."

Merle said to you, "If you wish to burn in hell, I could take you there..." The vampiress would say with a demented smile upon her face."

Clarence looked at Merle.

Clarence looks over at the woman and flinches slightly. "Don't need to go nowhere. I'm alreddy there, woman. Just ... leave me alone, lady. Got enough troubles already without some tart adding more on top."

Merle said to you, "You say let it rot in hell, yet you chicken out at the pleasant experiance? Seems to me you're a bit scared of death.."

Clarence snorts. "Forgit it, lady. Even drunk I know yer kind. You don't give a tinker's damn about me or anything, you're just after whatever you can get fer yourself. See your kind come into the shop all the time, and you can bet we don't take our eyes off 'em for a second, or stuff'll be flying off the shelves by magic. Just... get lost. Go find some other sucker to muck with - I got enough troubles already without you adding onto 'em." Apparently all that talking has dried his throat out, as he promptly takes a long swallow of beer, finishing another glass off.

Rhocielle appears from the south.

Rhocielle looked at Clarence.

Merle said to you, "My kind? Then what is my kind? And you are wrong. I do care to an extent..if you wish to die I can take care of that..as long as I get something before your cold and cruel death. "

Clarence drank a beer.

Clarence tosses a rude gesture in her direction before ordering another beer. "S'all I got to say to you now."

Rhocielle canted his head as soon as he had entered the tavern. The baker from Larket? He narrowed his eyes as he heard Merle's utterance to him. Striding across the distance from the door to the pair, "You may get a warm blade to sooth you through your own death, if you wish... In the meantime, I need to speak with my friend the baker here..." Already a paw like hand rested on the hilt of his blade while the other was set on Clarence's arm, "Sir..., I need to speak with you urgently about your daughter. I am one of the ones assigned to find the killer..."

Edan exits south.

Clarence looks blearily up at Rhocielle while waiting for his beer to arrive. "Then ... what're you doing in here? Why aren't you out there catching the bastard?" He pauses for a second, thinking, then looks around. "Unless... he's in here.." He glares around the room, looking at each person there with a suspicious look, as if whoever it was would be wearing a giant sign confessing their guilt.

Kirien said to Rhocielle, "Oh, oh, does that mean you're working with Roldan~?"

Rhocielle said to you, "I'm here because you're here. Let's go. You can take your beer with you." Looking towards Kirien, he simply said, "I am working alone, until others say they are working also on this. This Roldan would be one of them, I suppose."

Rhocielle said to Merle, "You may consider me already in hell if the gods allowed you to become a goddess of smoke, and mirrors..."

Kirien said to Rhocielle, "Oh, right~! Well, if you meet him, tell him he should stop suspecting me, aye? I've never even set foot in Larket, so him suspecting me is simply foolish~."

Merle said to Rhocielle, "I was blessed with beauty and power..I -am- the one and only Goddess of Smoke..mirrors..well seems to me you need one more than I could ever..even as a mortal love.."

Edan appears from the south.

Clarence staggers to his feet, bringing his glass with him. "Oh. Okay then." He stands with his shoulders slumped, and shuffles along after Rhocielle, clutching his beer in both hands.

Rhocielle said to Merle, "Aye, lest you break one..."

Rhocielle exits the Tavern, Clarence following behind.


Kelay Way:

Rhocielle looked back to the baker, "May I ask what you are doing all the way out here?

Edan appears from the north.

Edan exits west.

Clarence shrugs. "Had to get a drink, and the Ogre wasn't far enough away." He sniffs loudly and rubs his arm across his nose, then glares at Rhocielle with red-rimmed eyes. "Is that a problem?"

Rhocielle shook his head, "Curious, simply." The wolfen male allowed the grieving man to finish his sniffling recovering before asking, "As I said, there are few things I need to ask you about your daughter..." His voice was husky and tentative. Despite the intimidating appearance of his bestial form, he nevertheless expression compassion in his voice, "You said the others, the guards, that 'they were very good friends'. Who was friends with your daughter...?"

Clarence looks down and scratches at the back of his head, thinking hard. "Well, there was her friends she had as a kid, like Bekkey an Sara, but I dunno that she saw them much since she went off fer her Healing training." He kicks a rock with one foot. "And they was too nice to do nothing like what happened to her anyways. She was sweet on Griff for a while way back, but he done got married to Hellon last year while Bea was away, and good riddance to him to, I think. He weren't no one I thought would be good fer her."

Clarence looked at Rhocielle.

Rhocielle grunted softly in idle agreement as he listened to the man. "All the same, could you tell me where to find them? They might have seen someone that was acting more than sweet on her at the Red Ogre, if they were with her." Watching the where the rock landed, he added, "You mentioned Healing. Would you be able to tell me what the Healing she preformed looked like?" He had no idea what the man's education or how far his understanding of magic went. Bright colors of any sort might be mistaken for specific type of magic.

Clarence gestures vaguely northward. "They all be in L'ket, 'course. Bekkey still be with her parents. They're the Fletchers, on the edge of town. Sara's mum is a seamstress, an' her dad is a handyman, does odd jobs round town. Griff works on his dad's farm." He scratches vaguely at a stubbled cheek. "Magic.. magic. It was.. odd. I ain't got no experience with it, but I seen some here and there. Not sure what else I can tell you though."

Rhocielle feared as much. "Did she bring back any books with her, regarding her studies, wrote home to yourself and your wife?" he asked, keeping his calm husky drawl though he knew he was beginning to clutch at straws, "If you would not mind, I would like to have a look at them. They would be returned to you afterward, of course. She might have left something important in or a clue as to what happened."

Guyon appears from the west.

Guyon looked at Clarence.

Clarence shook his head. "Naw, dun think so. But her stuffs at the house. I think the Sheriff's got 'em all, but not sure. They been in an out all day long. I couldn't stay there no more, had to get out. Left Kyla there with her mum."

Rhocielle said questioningly, "The Sheriff?" He frowned faintly, though too briefly to be noticed, "All the same, may be allowed to examine her room and belongings, whatever is left." Though not wishing to offend the mere humand, he commented, "A wolf might be able to find a track overlooked by others..."

Clarence shrugs. "Whatever, I guess. I don't care who gets the bastard so long as he gets got." He sniffles again and wipes at his eyes with one hand.

Guyon trots gently down the path, his eyes focused mainly on the stars overhead. Mumbling to himself, the centaur is initially oblivious of the people just in front of him. "Stupid human ... can't do it.. paid her for nothing." The words tumble out quietly, but halt as Guyon catches sight of his two least favorite races: wolves and humans. Slowing to a walk, Guyon curls his upper lip in agitation.

Rhocielle snorted faintly, "We should get going. This is no place to be alone at night. You can get drunk at the Ogre and not even remember you're there." He looked over the centaur and his body language, "Hrm, lets go Clarence... Where exactly did Beatrix study.?"

Clarence staggers, tripping on the uneven road surface, and catches sight of the centaur. He nods in it's direction. "There was a centaur of some kind, asking around town looking for a healer. Maybe he found her?" He glares blearily at the centaur. "He's tall enough, maybe he's strong enough to do ... do .. that", as he chokes back a sob, "to her."

Guyon stiffens at the comment made by the human- they were so emotional. His ears flatten against his head, showing his blatant agitation at having walked into a very inopportune moment; the centaur's lip curls even further upward as he shoots back "I know yeh. Yer tha' baker- I've heard 'bout you and yer da'ghter. Pity." The last word comes out in a more sarcastic tone than genuine sympathy. Eying the human for several moments, Guyon adds slowly "Ar' yeh accus'ng meh of killing that puny littl' human?"

Rhocielle knew very few centaurs. Cyllarus being the one to come immediately to mind. Stooping over slightly, the armored Lycan took hold of the man's arm to help up to his feet. He uttered, "Easy there. Seems your home might be a better place for you." His canine ears twitched atop his furry scalp in response to the centaur's comment. Grey eyes kept steadily on the centaur as he called out to the half horse/half human, "Aye... so you know him. Seems everyone does. May I ask who you are?"

Guyon snorts hard as the Lycan seems to be staring him down. "Who wouldn't knaw 'bout a murder? News trav'ls fast in these 'ere lands." Pointedly ignoring the Lycan's question, Guyon focuses on the human once more "I 'ope yeh know tha' I'm nawt the one respon'sble fer this.' Taking several steps closer to the human, Guyon reaches into a pocket hanging off of his equine body; the jingle of gold obvious. "If I 'ad killed yer da'ghter, I wouldn't offer teh pay recom'nsation." The centaur's hand reaches into the pocket and draws out a large handful of gold and offers it to the human. Finally, turning to the Lycan, Guyon deigns to answer the question. "Meh name is Guyon. 'Nd who are yeh?"

Clarence hangs heavily on Rhocielle's supporting arm, apparently fading strong from all the beer he's drunk this night. "Not.. not fair... Bea.. "

Clarence looked at Guyon.

Rhocielle narrowed his eyes faintly at the tasteless gesture on the part of the centaur, then to the intoxicated human. Seven hells. A Warder, first and foremost, he could not risk any confrontation with Guyon for fear of getting Clarence injured. "A wolf," he answered cryptically, "...that is going to take his friend back to his home. If that is not enough, then I suppose news does not travel that fast afterall..." Shuffling the human closer up against his side for support, the Lycan began walking slowly with Clarence along the road. All was not lost. He had a face to go with the name of one of the suspects. He could always come back later.

Guyon snorts at the Lycan's initially cryptic comment. Abruptly, the centaur laughs, his hooves lifting and dropping erratically on the ground, his tail flicking with tension. "Yeh mus' be one eh those 'guards' o' the town Larket eh? Yeh creatures think yer strong enough teh protec' the humans.. obviously yeh weren't fas' enough- one of em died."

Clarence staggers upright, forcing himself to his feet, right in front of the centaur. He whips his hand up and throws the beer he'd been protecting all this time right into the centaur's face. "You sunnova..!!" The baker, pudgy, drunk, barely able to see or stand upright, throws himself forward, trying feebly to punch or kick the centaur in the stomach, garbled cries or screams erratically coming out of his throat.

Rhocielle said to Guyon, "Wrong... Should use your restless legs to find better sources of news..." He had barely enough time to finish speaking when the baker returned to life to pathetically attempt an attack on the centaur. So then... there were eight hells apparently. Wordlessly, he hauled back the drunken human by the collar of his beer laden shirt. Like a lumpy sack of potatos, the Lycan immediately hoisted Clarence over the shoulder of his off arm. Should the centaur think to attack for the offense, he had his sword arm ready to draw. For the moment, he merely stared at the other. Steadily, he uttered, "...we'll be going now..., my drunk friend and I..." Or else he would decapitate the centaur and have yet one more problem to deal with come morning.

Guyon snarls as the Baker splashes beer all over his body, the facial expression coupled with the Centaur rearing upwards- his front legs kicking out violently in an attempt to retaliate. Snorting and landing back to the ground, Guyon takes two steps forward only to stop himself as he sees the Lycan's hand at the hilt of a sword. Taking the two steps back, Guyon seems to growl deep in his throat in irritation. "Tha', my friend, would be a goo' idea." Tail flicking in anger, the centaur watches wordlessly.

Clarence mumbles and kicks weakly from over Rhocielle's shoulder.

Rhocielle nodded slowly in agreement to the centaur, his eyes never leaving the other. Taking a few steps to the side to allow the most distance between them, he cautiously carried Clarence along Kelay Road and back to Larket. Clarence or the gods above owed him one.

Guyon exits west.


Related Pages: