Jump to content

One of Many (Gillick Child Thread)

Recommended Posts

One of Many

Characters - Eldridge Gillick
Starting Location - Gold Harbor 
Ambiance (If you so choose) - Link


Eldridge stood with her back leaned up against her old wooden caravan, watching as the rain dripped from her roof and onto the flower pots below. A crow sat on her shoulder, playing with strands of its owner's hair out of boredom. She’d been waiting for the rain to finally come to a stop, not wanting to have her appearance ruined by the elements. Many other of her group's caravans sat on the border of Gold Harbor, setting up tents and circus equipment ready for show time. With a huff and dramatic sigh, she begrudgingly began walking towards the town with advertising leaflets in one hand and a staff in the other. 

Attitude! Let the folk see that pretty smile of yours!” Prince teasingly shouted at Eldridge from a distance, attempting to annoy her from a safe distance. 

“Oh, don’t you worry about that.” She returned with a sarcastic tone, with a hint of playful spite. Waving off her boss with a half assed flick of the wrist.

‘Shut uuuuup.’ Her sarcastic thoughts matched that of the spoken tone.

Come one now, don’t be like that! Don’t forget to meet up with our new worker!” Prince’s voice became more and more distant as Eldridge got closer to the town, his voice being replaced with that of the hustle and bustle of the locals. Birds sang and traders yelled of their goods, the smell the sea and smoke from the chimneys filled the air.

Walking through the town, she stuck out like a sore thumb. Her overly decorated and well kept apparel was an eye catcher, compared to the locals simple and practical working outfits. A small flock of crows followed behind her, only adding to the situation. But, it was what she desired. Her job was to catch eyes, hand out leaflets and get customers. Whilst it wasn’t the first they’d their carnaval set up at the town and business was always good, spreading word always important. 

“Come on down to the carny tomorrow! Come on down for a good show! All are welcome to watch and explore what we offer!” One by one she handed out the leaflets, some willing to take the handout and others not even batting an eye. It wouldn’t be long till she found the pile reduced to a mere five, having now walked the whole town from top to bottom. With her little journey leaving her at the bar, she walked inside to meet up with the new worker.

Edited by Rabbit

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

Pushing open the door, she had been expecting lively music and a grand warm welcome as usual. Instead of the tupical crowd, she found it near empty and silent. Regardless, the barkeep welcomed her with a large smile and called her over. Despite her rare appearances, the keep always seemed to remember Eldridge. Maybe it was her apparel or the barkeep had a great memory, either or being of no matter to the young carny. He remembered her favorite drink, the only thing she cared about. Placing a fancy wine glass on the table, he spoke with a booming voice.

"So, usual red wine and red pearl extract?" He'd already placed the ingredients on the bar counter, knowing what the answer would be. 

'Bored or just low on customers?'

"Perfect memory as always, keep. Do I even need to answer your question?" She said in a slightly teasing tone, pulling out and sitting upon one of the stools.

"Just checking, dear. What brings you here? Same as always?" He poured her drink, then turned his back to organize the shelves.

"Yep, here on recruitment. Not sure when she'll show, but she stated before sun down. Just gonna drink and wait." She began to slowly sip her drink, commonly both her evening luxury and company. 

"Welp, you're welcome to stay as long as is needed." The barkeep poured her a second glass, despite her first drink only drunk. 

Thankfully for Eldridge, she didn't have to wait too long. Only twenty minutes passed before a customer walked in and took a seat next to the Gillick child, catching her attention with a meek and weary voice. The woman had long red hair, which hid was hidden by the shabby black cloak she wore. Only her forearms were showing, which suggested she had a slender build. Her eyes met Eldridges, with a glimmer of hope still remaining.

"Are you the carnival crow?

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

The witch gave a small huff, 'The carnival crow?' she thought. Her nicknamed always varied, depending on the town and its people. Feathered fae, imperfect witch, bird bitch and everything else under the Ursa sun. It never ceased to amaze her what the public would come up with, never seeking to know her true name and preferring strange titles. But she did not mind such things, as the public having little knowledge of her true name only added to her safety.

"Hmmm, guess I am. Sounds like me! So, what's your name?" Eldridge attempted to keep the conversation, with her client appearing to have little desire to talk. 

"It's Arya, are you the one here to help me?" Even with Eldridge's response giving Arya a confused look, she still beckoned on with a desperate tone. She was rushing, trying to get straight to the point. 

"That really depends, help is very vague." The witch finished her first drink, then began moving onto her second. The barkeep had moved round back, knowing his presence would be interrupting a sensitive meeting. 

"I need to get out this town, far away. I've been on the move for so long, I just want to settle down in one place for more than a week. Forgotten about, without being hunted." Arya was nearly in tears, her voice shaking towards the end of her statement. Eldridge reached over the bar to grab more ingredients, pouring the now crying women a drink who took it without a second thought.

"Yes, that is something we can help you with. You'll have to explain the full situation to my boss, we'll got from there. you'll be following me from here onwards, understand?"   

"Yes, thank you." The two sat and drank in the bar in silence, waiting until Ayra had calmed down.

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

The two girls sat at the bar drinking, round after round of alcohol going by. The bar quickly filled with empty glasses and bottle, the smell of red wine slowly became overbearing to most other patrons. Despite the amount drunk, Eldridge remained fairly sober. Arya on the other hand had appeared to have had drunk her worries away, a small smile on her face and empty glass in hand.

'What are we going to do about you?' 

"I....wanna go home." Her head slugged back and forth, struggling to keep herself up.

"How about you come back with us, we can keep your safer there." The witch place a pocket full of coin onto the bar, paying for both the drinks and leaving a tip for dealing with the mess. 

"Okay, but no more drinking, please. I'm not use to it." The two linked arms, Eldridge doing her best to support her new drunken friend. She began leading them out the bar, towards the carny. 

"Well there's a simple solution to that, which is NOT DRINKING!" The witch gave a playful raised voice, one that was met with a mere burp. 

The witch carried the new companion through the streets, fumbling around as Arya repeatedly lost all motion in her legs. It wasn't long till she had made her way back to the carnival, many of the fellow workers resting by the campfires or already retired for the night. Eldridge dragged the redhead back to her own personal wagon and laid her on the carpet, throwing her a thick knitted blanket and tucking her in.

"I would let you have my bed....but I need my beauty sleep, which I need a comfy bed for."

Edited by Rabbit

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

'Uuhhhh, fucking hell....ooouch..'

The witch woke up to feeling of her body stiff and sluggish, even the slightest movement causing her head to feel as if it were being struck with several blunt objects simultaneously. Even if she felt as tho she wasn't drunk, the morning told the true tales of what had happened. A beam of light broke through the gap in her wagon curtains, perfectly aligned to her eyes and blinding her. She turned her head to the side, noticing the redhead sleeping on her carpet.

"Oh...yeah...new girl." She mumbled, keeping her voice low enough to not wake her new drinking buddy.

She scanned her room, looking at all the various trinkets and books she'd collected over the years. Everything was still in place, even the many the many wind chimes and dangling necklaces, which usually get torn down in a drunken rage or sadness. As the morning daze slowly faded, the distant sound of people talking and items clashing could just about be heard over her mind fog.

"oh...yeah...work." Eldridge sat on the edge of her bed, giving Ayra repeated nudges with her foot. "Come on...we've got work."

"Hmmm, what are you on about? Work?" Her voice was much like the witches, faint and croaky. 

 "You think you're staying with us for free?" Eldridge finally stood up, holding her arms out as she tried not to wobble over.

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

Arya looked at the witched with a tired puzzled expression, taken back by the thought of working at a circus. She rubbed her eyes, then stood up and let out a belch. She brought her hand to her mouth, looking as though she nearly through up. Even in her hungover state, Eldridge could help but enter a laughing fit. Each giggle gave sent a wave of pain through her head, not helping with her nauseous feeling.

"How about I whip us up something to help with the hangover, you like the taste of blueberries?" She asked, not requiring or caring about the answer.

"Well..." Her voice became distant as the witch left her wagon and approached the already lit fire, her friends Ava and Ciel cooking up yet another one of their concoctions. 

They looked at her, eyes wide and faces covered in their typical clown styled make up. They stired a pot, appearing to be a strange soup with a mixture of different meats. Grabbing a ladle, Ava poured her a small bowl of the soup and offered it to Eldridge with a smile. Despite knowing it would taste awful and potentially make her ill, she couldn't resist the two or anything they wanted. She forced down the soup, the meat a horrible mixture of either undercooked or overcooked meats.

'Oh god, hungover and food poisoning.'

"Thanks, just try to cook the meats a little better." She said with a smile and honesty, which was met with a smile and nod from the twins. "I'm just going to borrow this pot, cook up some coffee."

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

The twins sat and watched with wide eyes, watching her every movement. As always, looking to improve their cooking skills. Unfortunately, no matter how many times Eldridge or anyone else attempted to teach them basic cooking skills, their food always came out either burnt or raw. The mere thought of teaching them again sent shivers down the witches spine, remembering the smell of charcoal only leaving her dress after several washes.

'Please, just remain watching. I can't teach you guys, especially with this hangover.'

She began by placing water, sugar and blueberries into a pot a boiling it. She stirred the mixture, slowly adding variety of dried mushroom and fresh exotics herbs. It quickly went from a sweet smelling concoction, to something that had no smell at all. It wasn't long till it was ready to be served, appearing as a strange orange liquid.  Eldridge poured four cups, giving two to the twins. With just a single sip, the twins let out an honest smile. 

"Tastes pleasantly sweet, doesn't it. I'm going to give some to my friend, see you two later." The twins sat and drank their little gifts, whilst the witch returned inside the wagon. Her new friend just barely able to sit up straight. 

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

Arya, still in her hungover state, sluggishly played with Eldridge's many decorations. Many necklaces and charms dangled from the ceilings and walls, small pictures and statues to accompany them. Her room was entirely comprised of items which had story's, some small and some large. 101 novelties and still growing, all of them small and cute. Each one had a crows feathers to accompany them, a blessing from the witch to her items.

"Like them?" Eldridge gave the red head a pat on the shoulder. 

"Yeah, reminds me of my old place. Momma enjoyed collecting random oddities." Her face was red, tears almost breaking loose.

"No time for crying, just drink this and meeting me at the wagon beside this one." Pushing the drink upon Arya's chest, Eldridge went to the leave the wagon and get to work.

"What is it?" She asked, flicking her hair out of her eyes.

"Something that'll make you feel better." 

Arya sipped on the drink, letting the flavor sit on her tongue. After only one sip she fund herself instantly infatuated with the taste, the sweetness just to her liking. Only minutes later her hangover had vanished, leaving her feel refreshed and energized. Her sadness still remained, her throat dry and eyes sore. Despite this, she couldn't bring herself to cry, Only desiring to follow her new friend and begin what could be a long friendship. 

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

The two made there way through the workers moving around and sorting out their goods, Eldridge leading Arya by her hand. The witches flock of crows followed them behind, hoping along the grounds or flying from roof to roof. Unknown to the redhead, the witch was rather confused. It seemed people were packing up, rather than preparing for the upcoming customers. She'd eventually run into prince, who'd already spotted her confused look from far off.

"Want the quick answer? We're packing up and going, with the war brewing the major has politely asked us to move along. Don't blame him, he simply want to ensure security."

"War? What stupid war is going on now?" She said in anger, unknowingly squeezing Arya's hand with much force. 

"Apparently, certain factions are going at each others throats and hunting down people of certain 'capabilities'." He turned his back, moving on to help others. "Pack up and be ready to move out in an hour, just means we'll get your friend to her destination sooner."


"Sorry to hear about this, I was looking forward to seeing your act." She said, her voice soft and low.

"We can mess around with my act on the road, let's help the other pack." Tho she was happy they could help Arya sooner, the thought of loosing import pay and a fun night drove her to nearly screaming. 

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

The remainder of the day was filled with saddened hearts and packing of items, the two girls silent through most of it. Prince attempted to keep morals high, providing music and good for his people. Whilst succeeding in many regards, there was an inevitable low moral spread around. Despite this, Prince continued his efforts through the day and night. Towards the end of the day the twins, Prince, Eldridge and Arya sat  around a camp fire. They dinned on a basic meal of bread and spiced soup, a light chatter between them. 

"So the war rages on, getting closer and closer. I know little about the important details, merely propaganda being thrown back and forth." Princed kept his voice bright and perky.

"So, that's why the mayor told us to pack up and leave? That makes no sense, what would we have to do with the war?" Eldridge's voice was bordering rage filled, angered at the loss of work. 

"I don't know, but we can't just defy what he requested. We'll leave tomorrow and make due, not like we're low on any necessities." His tone clearly signaled the end of the conversation, a rare occurrence from the jolly tiefling.  

The silent twins merely threw glances and smiles around, every replying with their own forced ones. Even at their ages, they understood the severity of what war tor lands can bring. Minutes later everyone had returned to their wagons in silence, Arya and Eldridge now sharing a bed. The witch spent the night staring out the window at the stars, the clear sky on the shoreline calming her down. 

'Fucking idiots, putting war before their own people...'

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

Ardmore is an artful lad, maneuvering around the unfamiliar urban port of Gold Harbor almost immediately after fleeing the merchant ship upon which he'd been a stowaway. However, even he has his limits; despite a lifetime of petty thievery, nothing could prepare Arty for running around the town nonstop for hours on end. The adage goes; 'Old habits die hard.', a statement the streetwise scoundrel more-or-less lived by. Not a minute after he'd escaped his previous charter, avoiding any questions as to why the ship had an extra, previously unaccounted for cabin boy, Ardmore had already began staking out potential targets to pickpocket. After all, he's used to dealing with the rough-and-tumble cutthroats of Drasir; what chance did the hapless inhabitants of the harbor have to protect their pocket change from him?

His cocky and carefree attitude has led him into desparate straits. Ardmore is forced to seek asylum amidst the unsuspecting (and hopefully understanding) gang of carnies; he strides up to one of their wagons.

...a few hours earlier.

"Stop! THIEF!"; shouts of fury ring out, echoing off the nearby galleons as a dockside battalion of guards try to parse through confused crowds of busybodies. Even in the upswings of war, it's unusual to imagine someone turning to thievery so close to a picturesque estate that doubles as a port-side town. Alas, it's as Ardmore says; "Old habits die hard!", calling back to his pursuers before darting deftly down an alleyway, weaving around startled onlookers.

Sheesh! If he knew it was some venerable judge he'd pulled the ol' "dropped your wallet" trick on, he wouldn't have bothered! This heat was more trouble than it's worth; he hardly had time to pull his bandana around his lower jaw, which means people have definitely seen his face now. Arty clicks his tongue, scoffing in disbelief as he stops short and starts to effortlessly scale one the alley walls! "All this for some loose change?" he wonders aloud as he climbs, seemingly to himself. "These blue bloods should be thankin' me!"

...a few minutes before that.

As talented as a swimmer as Arty was, he wasn't keen on being thrown into the harbor for stowing away aboard a venerable merchant's ship. Thus, the boy had hidden himself away in an empty barrel to escape any suspicious eyes. Once he got the feeling the workers had moved on to another shipment, he popped open the lid and slipped towards the town proper. Therein he spotted many of the fattest fat-cat aristocrats he'd ever laid eyes upon. Like a lion stalking its prey, the thieving orphan went about setting up a clever ambush for the most unassuming of the lot, a portly old fellow with a kind face and gentle demeanor. Having set himself on a collision course with the long-jowls, curly-haired man, Ardmore was keen to pull his biggest petty score yet!

"OOF! Oh no -- apologies good sir!" Arty and the presumably wealthy individual both land flat on their asses, however it had all been a ploy for the boy to fish his fingers into the bulging back pocket and pluck out a leather-bound wallet. Holding the accessory behind his back, a small furry arm reaches out from the bag at the boy's hip, taking handfuls of coins and pulling them in with its retreat.

The suited man scowls at Arty at first, before heaving a exaggerated sigh; "No harm, my boy. Simply watch where you're going next time." He'd say before they both stand to their feet.

As Arty approaches, he'd give the man a faux once over before suddenly bending down so he could pretend to pick the wallet he'd swiped off the ground. "Oh! Is this yours? Seems you dropped it." Playing coy was an art the boy had perfected at this point, a decade living in the gutter gives you all sorts of useful talents. After the taller man gives Arty a warm smile for his goodnatured and '''honest''' gesture, he sends the boy on his way.

However, suspicion arises within the elderly judge as he spots it -- a stray gold coin sitting right where the young urchin had fallen. Did the boy drop this? That seemed unlikely, given the generally impoverished look Ardmore had about him and his inexperienced youth. The man thusly fishes through the wallet he'd been given and lo and behold, it was emptied! He whips around and grabs the boy by the arm, pulling him in close! "YOU LITTLE-!" He'd start to accuse, before a small blur of fur shoots out from Ardmore's canvas satchel! Turns out that head of curly white hair was nothing but a wig, as a wily Capuchin monkey grabs the front edge of it and pulls it down over the judge's eyes!

The man is forced to release Arty, who then gives an exaggerated bow before booking it. "Sorry! I'd talk more if I had the time, but alas I don't!" He flashes a smile and a wink to the monkey on his shoulder, who then in turn smiles and winks right back; "Excellent timing as usual, Barbar."

Despite Arty's swiftness and acrobatics, the guards weren't at all undeterred in their pursuit. They immediately begin barging into the building the boy was scaling, intent on beating him to the roof and hopefully capturing the runt who'd just robbed a court justice. Hearing the calamity and cacophonous chaos from indoors, the clever little pickpocket deduces their plot before casting his gaze towards some scaffolding that connects the building he's climbing to the next one over. Bingo! There's his opportunity to lose these cronies, though it probably won't do any favors for his 'public image'.

Quickly making his way to the roof around the same time the foremost guard erupts from the access door, Arty gives a rather obscene gesture to entice them to chase more recklessly. It works. Furious, the apparent headman commands as he rushes after Arty; "Wring him by his neck, boys!"

With the agility of a cat, Ardmore tiptoes across the scaffolding, making sure to take it a little slow so all five of his pursuers believe they just might catch him. Alas, it is not to be, as the boy touches the tip of his finger to the topmost plank that forms a makeshift 'bridge' between the two buildings. Focusing intently, before the guards' very eyes the wood rots! Suddenly unable to support the weight suspended upon it, the top layer of the scaffolding collapses, sending the guards all tumbling below! They luck out as their falls are cushioned by the lower levels of the structure. Although they CRASH through them, leaving quite a mess behind as they groan in dizzying disorientation.

Ever the showboat, Arty peeks over the edge of the opposite building, looking down below at his former pursuers with a taunting wince. Giving a wave, the boy calls down to them; "Sorry 'bout the mess, guys! Send me the bill in the mail -- something tells me I can afford to make a payment or two now!~" Practically crooning in smug, self-assured victory, Arty hops from rooftop to rooftop until he's well out-of-sight. Another daring escape! Though...now that gaggle of guards are sure to be looking all over town for him, in the wake of such delicious humiliation. Making his way back down to the world below and sticking to less populated streets, Arty and the monkey on his shoulder begin to brainstorm.

"We need a good cover to skip town, Barbar."; he says, to which the Capuchin responds with an eek, a shrug and a few wild gestures of his own.

"Yes, I know we just got here but--" Out of the corner of his eye, Ardmore spots something that gives him pause. There, discarded like refuse laid onto the ground, was the wandering boy's assured salvation! A leaflet advertising a sideshow, a traveling caravan of carnies; a way to lay low and continue his journey across all Ursa Madeum. Feeling as though fate was smiling down upon him, Arty picks up the leaflet from the ground and dusts it off. Barbarossa cranes his neck and tilts his head in confusion, narrowing his eyes at the parchment as his human straightens it out. 

"This..." Arty points the pamphlet out to his simian sidekick, as if sensing the Capuchin's curiosity. "...is our ticket outta here, Barbar."

Thusly, after an exhausting day, Ardmore Turner arrives at the carnival grounds...only to find that whatever they'd been setting up has been taken back down? Had he missed them? Couldn't be -- their wagons are still here. He walks up to the closest one to him, cocking his head aside before he brings his knuckles to rap against the door. After today's adventure, he hopes to finally find some respite.

Edited by Milke

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

[Prince's POV] 

Both the day time and early night time had been a drag for the prince of the show, his energy had been spent on ensuring negativity was kept at a minimum. He walked the site, ensuring everything was put away and locked up. Other than a few beams of candle lights coming through windows of the wagons, there seemed to be no signs of life around the camp. Except for the sound of two twins sneaking about, somewhat caught red handed in whatever activities they were doing. But he didn't need to see to know, time had a funny way of letting someone know these things.

"You won't get another warning, head to bed or I'll tell Anaya about what you've been doing." The prince said, his tone firm and unwavering. 

He could hear them run away, the distant sound of a door opening and then shutting with great force echoed. What were they up to? He had no idea. But as somewhat of a father figure to the two, he deemed it his job to ensure they didn't stay up and cause issues. But despite the sound of the twins disappearing, he could still make out movements on the outskirts of the site. 

'Hmmm, maybe dinner has come to me.' He thought, hoping for an easy meal.

 Following the sound, it wasn't long before prince came across the culprits. An individual and his pet seemingly trying to break into one of the wagons, a fatal mistake for someone who wasn't aware of the evil beast that slumbered behind the wagon door. Despite wanting to see the fatal mistake take place, he decided such a fate wasn't due. Pulling out a bell that sat attached his belt, he introduced himself. 

"Hello there, my unfortunate friend." His voice was loud, aimed at Arty and bordering on shouting. "I wouldn't open that door, what lay inside could get us all hurt. How about we talk this out and I don't ring this bell, rather not have the guards around. I'm very reasonable."

But little did he know, it was already to late. With a great thud, the door to the wagon swung open with tremendous force, stood in its place was Eldridge wielding a broken glass bottle. The smell of booze poured out of her wagon, with several crows flying out from behind her as she took several steps outside.

"WHO THE FUCK WOKE ME UP!? I NEED MY BEAUTY SLEEP! FUCK OOOOOFF!" Her was hoarse, screeching like a banshee in the night. 

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

Drained and starved, Arty wasn't at all as attentive as he usually was. That quick wit and quicker danger-sense are dulled into a sluggish slog, but lucky for him someone had come to his rescue before he made a fatal error. The boy and his monkey both whipped around; Barbarossa dives into Ardmore's bag with a startled screech as his companion himself widens his eyes at the sight of prince! Great - he was hoping to get the drop on this lot, but now it seems as if he's going to spend his precious time trying to talk his way around the owner. Arty raises his hands in mock surrender, the boy visibly unarmed save for the bag toted at his hip. "G-Good evening, mister."; he stutters purposefully, hoping to disarm any suspicion by posing as just another hungry orphan. At the mention of the guard's however, a visible frown graces his lips.

"Hey now! No need to go ringing for the guards..." Arty starts stepping down and away from the wagon's door, hands still raised as his shoes come into contact with the cold soil. He wasn't sure what Prince knew, but hopefully the tiefling is as reasonable as he claimed to be. The boy much preferred to talk things out; no way he has the energy to manage outrunning the town guard again, nor whatever security detail this misfit band of performers managed to scrounge together. "I'm not here to rob you or anything, cross my heart! I'm just a forlorn soul looking for an honest wage-"

It's just then the door upon which Arty was about to haplessly knock upon SWUNG open with a loud crash and thud! The thieving little moppet screams at the top of his lungs, leaping into the air and falling square on his ass by the time he turns around! He looks up in fear at the hoarse, haggard figure that now looms within the doorway, taking steps towards him while angrily wielding a glass bottle. He starts sliding back on his bottom, scooting away in abject terror at the sight before him, an unknowable force flanked by a fluttering murder of crows. When he fell, Prince and Eldridge could plainly witness all his plundered and stolen goodies spill out of his bag alongside his shaken pet Capuchin. Coins, pendants, bills, jewelry, so twinkly they sparkle even beneath the dim light of the moon.

"W-WHA-!? Shoot!" Realizing his jig might be up much sooner than he had planned, the boy starts hastily fussing over his spilled swag, cramming handful after handful back into his satchel. "Sorry! Sorry! I didn't mean to...disturb..." 

Arty slows his pace once he gets a better look at the woman who just burst through the door. He's just staring at Eldridge in silence for a moment, for a reason even he can't discern, before shaking his head and returning to his senses. The boy flicks his gaze between the persons flanking two sides of him, Prince and Eldridge the first people to ever have the boy so stunned. He looks down at all the stolen good he's yet to stow back into his pack, chuckling awkwardly; "...I can explain?"

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

Both Prince and Eldridge watched as the boy fell, revealing a small hoard of precious jewelry and gems. Whilst Prince seemed unfazed by such a sight, the witch only grew more angry. Assumptions running through her head of what the thief wanted, potentially trying to steal her trinkets and booze. She simply continued to swing the broken bottle around in an enraged state, spitting and screeching.

'Oh no, here we go.'

"IF YOU THINK YOU CAN STEAL MY BOOZE, YOU'RE DEAD WRONG!" With a second large thud, she returned inside her wagon and slammed the wagon door shut. Some muffled cursing could be heard inside, followed by crows landing around the wagon and entering through the open window. The muffled cursing was eventually replaced with a light snoring. 

Prince knelt down by the boy, understanding of how he felt. "I tried to warn you, not even a thief is deserving of such a death. We don't really care about criminality here, so long as it doesn't affect us. Just don't do anything stupid and you won't end up with a glass bottle in your neck....or worse." Prince started collecting the dropped stolen item and handing them back to Arty. "So, what brings you here?"

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

Ardmore is left feeling...confused? Frightened? He can't really deduce the exact nature of his thoughts on Eldridge as she disappears into the wagon, having levied what he thinks was a potent threat on his life. He's wary of her, but also plainly curious, probably about what's resulted in such a sour mood. Nevertheless, Arty counts himself lucky that the witch decided not to make a pin cushion of the artful little thief. As he watches the crows flock into the wagon window, following after their apparent owner, Ardmore's own animal pops his head out of the boy's bag. 

Suddenly remembering himself, the forlorn urchin looks to Prince as the man saddles in beside him to help collect all his stolen property. Seeing no sense in denying his trade, Arty sighs aloud as he gathers up the last of his spilled plunder with the tiefling's assistance. "No kiddin'. I ain't here to rob you guys or anything like that; already done plenty of stealing today." He reassures the man before looking up at him.

"The name's Arty. Let's just say I'm in deep shit with the guards here. Had a bit of a...'disagreement' earlier, just after arriving too! I'm kinda like you guys. I travel around a lot, y'see? So I was thinking I'd join your circus. Lay low, get outta town, and continue my little journey." The boy lightly shrugs, trying to downplay any possible suspicions that might be levied against him. 

"Oh, and this..." He gestures to the monkey who's head is still sticking out of the mouth of his bag. "...is Barbarossa. My bestfriend and wingman." In response to being pointed out, the monkey shoots Prince a narrowed glare before dipping back into the satchel, vanishing from sight. 

Giggling, Arty dismisses his companion's rudeness with a smile and a wave. "Don't mind him, mister. He'll warm up to you; he's just antsy around strangers. So why don't we get a little more familiar, what's your name?"

Edited by Milke

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

  • Recently Browsing   0 members

    No registered users viewing this page.

  • Create New...