RP:Signing of Diyuir as Larket's Bowyer
Objective
Meeting held at the Secluded Nook in Sage Forest with Diyuir and Jacklin.
Discussion focused on the interest of Diyuir perhaps becoming the Bowyer of Larket. After discussion of skill by the Wood Elf, Diyuir was pleased to sign on as Bowyer for the city-state of Larket.
Actual Meeting
Jacklin was seated like the embodiment of age. Spine bent within armor and figure crumpled beneath the weight of, well, nothing even the keenest of irises could obtain. Elbows were pressed delicately against bent knees and mail-covered arms were parallel to slumped shoulders. Leather-wrapped fingers entwined with one another as she stared toward the engraved rock as though mourning its fallen familiar. Yet Jacklin never had known the man Edward, or the woman who kept vigilance here over the years. But it was a silent wood, half-empty whiskey bottles were strode around the supple soil beneath footing. Rude, perhaps, but Jacklin always added to the littering of Edwards last stand. Hood was lifted over her eyes and rested as its master, worn and stubborn. Hanging fervently over the wild chestnut tresses poking out from beneath the Executioners helm. He aging queen kept silent with only a low, barley audible hum being pushed from between pursed lips.
Diyuir had simply been traveling through the lands. His mind racing with his recent slave dealings and the man who had threatened to take his own life. The Wood Elf was garbed in long black robe and beneath them held a plethora of daggers including on his leather vambraces that he wore with such pride. On his back was an elegantly carved Oak Long-Bow that held images of Sages many creatures including one fabled bird of fire. It seemed that Diyuir had traveled into someones mourning or perhaps personal wasteland as he stared now to empty bottles that laid themselves across the ground. Yet something else caught his eye. A woman who sat lazily in front of him. In all honesty the Wood Elf had no idea how he had come to this place and his souless gray eyes stared deeply to the being in front of him. He knew not who she was yet he recalled vauge memories of spotting her yet he couldn't remember where. Instead of speaking the man simply reached to his hood and pulled it back revealing a tattoo of the Sage Marksmen decorating his right eye as he awaited to see if the female would strike up random conversation.
Jacklin tossed a slight-sight gaze toward the male who had recently joined her within the strange wood. Often a long female might have feared such a tattooed figure, feared for their safety or intentions of the other. Yet Jacklin sat in her own stony disposition without twitch or turn. Eyes regarded the foreign figure for several fleeting moments before reigning in heed and passing it back to where the stone sat buried long for the earth. Toe rose from its idle position to push a bone dry bottle of whiskey forward. It’s clanking stirring a nearby rodent of some sort. The furry creature scurrying up the nearest tree possible and, with hopes, away from the pair of stronger figures. “I’ve been here for many years and never knew Edward. I knew a man name Edward once...but he was a horrible thing. Not enough life to even warrant me to spit on his grave.” Fingers rose to smooth the lines around her mouth but eyes still trained themselves on the meaningless monument, “What’s your name? Figure we either talk or stand here in silence waiting for that bawling babe to return. She’s a damned fool. Move on already.”
Diyuir listened to Jacklin with intent. His elven ears raising at her voice and a mere smile spreading across his visage at the meaning mention of the woman. A small chuckle found itself escaping his vocals as he nodded to Jacklin in agreement. Though her question of his name fell upon deaf ears for a moments time before he truly registered the question. This female seemed innocent enough to speak his true name instead of the false identity he had been spreading across all of Hollow. No; For Diyuir was not Bellium Avanas to this fine female instead he spoke his true name with honor and pride. "Aye. My name is Diyuir Vontiur. Half-Blood Marksmen of the Sage. Your own if I might be so bold?" The Wood Elf approached Jacklin now yet let the woman have her own space as he allowed himself to sit on the crude floor.
Jacklin finally, as with proper conduct, swiveled on the stump for better view of the newly titled elf. Though Jacklin was of a smaller frame, her bulky armor created an illusion of girth and might. One much too large for the tree remnants she currently called her perch. With Edward at her back she ignored the graceless handling of such a reverent place. A place to mourn the dead was just another quiet area for drinking. At least when one didn’t have any connection to this ‘Edward’ fellow. “Diyuir? Fine by me, Diyuir. They call me Jack,” she spoke in that whiskey-stained voice. Eyes lighting up toward his warm visage with a lifting of lined brows. Index finger rises to point toward the inking marking features, “You’re one of those shooters, aren’t ya?” Jacklin was no shooter. She barely knew how to hold a bow and shoot in the first place. For what the elder lacked in hands-on, she made up for in yearning. Books would fill in the gaps. “I’ve seen that in the annals.”
Diyuir offers a swift nod to Jacklin. "It's a pleasure to meet you then Jack." In all honesty, Diyuir didn't care for the woman at all. He just met her and only spoke with her due to lack of anything else to take over his time. As the elder points to his tattoo Diyuir nods yet again. "Indeed I am. One of the most skilled among my people." Reaching to his back the best he could in his seated position Diyuir was able to untie the knot that fixated his bow to his back and pulled it from its holster holding it before Jacklin. "I also craft them when I am able." Tossing the bow to Jacklins feet so the woman could examine it closely if she felt the need. Diyuir offered another revelation to his story even though he knew Jacklin would care not. "Though the people of Sage disprove of my ways of business thus this marking is nothing more than a mere memory." He spoke of the tattoo on his eye and he placed his arms behind him in order to lean back while maintaining eye contact with Jacklin.
Jacklin perked slight, or as much as Jacklin could perk. Lazy lids lifting from their squinted position for a better view of the bow the Wood Elf currently held within his command. Never knowing much for bows, Jacklin could only give a slight nod toward Diyuir and his beautiful weapon. It was a beauty in her eyes at least. All weapons were. Though human, Jacklin hadn’t the training in more civil jobs such as a smithy or that of a tailor. Which was precisely the reason such news brightened her face so gladly. “That’s a kind bow you’ve got there, Diyuir. I’m a warrior so my knowledge about the ranged arts is very little. I’ve shot bows in my youth, but never hit much. Maybe a leaf or two...I don’t count those as making much of a mark. My prowess is of closer combat.” Pausing she looks toward the path leaving the open area, her chin lifting toward the north where Larket was settled, “There’s a town up there, a city-state if you would. Ever been there? It’s called Larket and it’s my home. I know this is a bit quick of me, but we’re in need of a bowyer. Badly as it were. Our rangers are using pathetic craft at the moment and could use a boost.”
Diyuir couldn't help but feel a jolt of accomplishment as a complete stranger complimented his bow. As the female spoke he nodded every few seconds to remind her he was listening. At the mention of her desperate need and her city of Larket he offered a thin smile and another nod. "Indeed Jack, I am quite familiar with Larket. I have used the Red Ogre Inn in order to rest my eyes every few weeks. As for aiding a city in need, I would be glad. If there were pay involved. A starving man does no work for free." Reaching back now the man took hold of his bow and placed it back upon its originally holding ground before speaking again to Jacklin. "Also, A warrior you should be a jack-of-all skills, Jack. I could teach you the ways of the marksmen if you so wish it." Diyuir let his souless grey eyes settle back upon the woman and awaited her responce.
Jacklin fishes a hand within her person with some semblance of a smile, a ghost of sorts. It was rare for emotion to bubble through the usually stoic complexion, but at this moment it did, “I’d not mind learning how to shoot if you’re willing.” Eventually hand resurfaced clutching a small pouch of blue silk material. Tied at the top with a silvery ribbon. So odd a package to be retrieved from Jacklin, at least as far as exteriors were concerned. “I’m a bit of a specialized warrior. They call us Brawlers for short. But my life isn’t of any concern or interest save for the whiskey bottles. They don’t mind listening now and then.” With a quick wink she tosses the pouch toward her new acquaintance, “Offering a thousand gold per week. More when you’ve been with the city longer. If you agree I’ll get your papers signed and send a letter of information regarding the role. Does it suit you so far?”
Diyuir eyes the pouch and happily catchs the gold in his hands. A smile forming quickly across his pale visage at the sound of jingling gold. Oh how he loved Gold. Nodding in agreement to Jacklin he spoke. "Indeed. Count me in Miss Jack. As for the teachings, I will gladly show you everything I know so long as we walk under the same banner." Rising to his feet now the Wood Elf Mud walked towards Jacklin after placing the newly found gold in his bag. He extended a hand to the elder woman hoping for a firm shake in return. "I appreicate business with you." It was now that Diyuir began to care for this newly found acquaintance. Not because he liked her, but because he liked her gold. Proudly now he would serve Larket as their bowyer until stated otherwise.
Jacklin snatches the offered hand with a gracious squeeze and shake before release. With surprisingly spry movement she rises in a fluid motion from the stump of current housing. Giving the male a hardy slap on the shoulder she collects her spear from its place in the soil and moves toward the path trailing from the memorial. “Pleased to have you in Larket. A courier will find you with information regarding the tasks. Until then, Diyuir, enjoy your evening.” Giving a small wave she departs from the clearing, back toward Larket.
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