Travelling Swords (IC)

Higor sat next to a small fire smoking a rabbit he had caught earlier in the day and just waiting for something to happen. As Higor was finishing up preserving the rabbit meat he overheard some of the other guild members discussing a job, not wanting to sit around anylonger Higor wandered over to see if they could use some more help. "You guys need some more men?" Higor asked no one in particular, since he still wasn't positive who would be in charge of the mission.
 
Men like Zeg were the reason that sometimes Duncan thought this work was worthless. What kind of justice could they bring given this sort of fellow? Surely they could enforce a decent proposal this season and the next would probably have the same problems only he knew it was a waste of time to do anything more than that. Once was all he could handle. Irritably he listened to the man talk in his little glee and rub his hands together as if he expected it all to be set straight. It would be...and probably not the kind of straight that Zeg wanted. So far Duncan was pretty sure the man was crooked and he wanted a crooked deal to be enforced.

Turning slightly he shook his head when Frank went off like some kind of obnoxious siren. Higor seemed to want in on the action as well and that was a bit disturbing. They would all want to get in on this one measly job. "Yes! Come one and all." Rolling his eyes he turned back toward Zeg. "Just take us to the fields and I'll determine what needs to be done from there."
 
"Excellent!" Zeg exclaimed. Anyone who wished to be part of the job followed along.

During the hour-long walk to Old Rikker Abbey, Zeg went on and on regarding his position in the wealthy Rikker family, laughing at his own stories, and occasionally explaining the job. Apparently the farmers in the Abbey claim that they discovered the Rikker family shorted one of them a portion of their promised pay last harvest, and this harvest they won't give the family any crops until they are paid fully. Zeg insists that the family keeps detailed ledgers on the topic, and are certain no such mistake were made and refused to bend to lies. Either way, the situation couldn't have been handled that well for this to happen.

After a grueling hour walking along the muddy river, Old Rikker Abbey was in view. Crates and barrels formed barricades, as young watchmen started hollering on the parties approach. Soon villagers came forth from the thatched village houses to their positions with pitchforks and sickles. An elderly man looked grimly at the mercenaries. "Really Zeg, Mercenaries? Has it come to this? We will NOT hesitate to burn the fields, should you and your hired swords come any closer!"
 
Duncan was slightly disgusted with the man and his puffed up tales about himself and his family. If their wealth and schemes were something to be proud of then he wasn't sure what sort of honor there could be in this sort of job. Still he remained silent for the time. Perhaps they would hear something about the job in the meantime. Which they did during the travel and even that wasn't anything that he found impressive.

As they reached the town a gradual scowl came over his face. The people here had a rich crop and they were starving. At best they were impoverished and he didn't figure this was just. Making sure his hands were clear of his blade he gazed at the old man. "Yes he brought us here." Now that he had the man's attention Duncan figured he may as well go on with his plan. It was one that he hoped the rest would follow through with. They should since he was the one leading them. "You ever consider taking the crops and selling them instead? I'm a mercenary and I have yet to be paid as well." For now the talk seemed to be working beautifully on both sides. "Now I think what we ought to do is hear your side of the story. I've got to hear all of Zeg's tales and to be sure that justice is served it is required that I hear both sides and then I'll decide what's fair for you, them, myself, and my companions here."

If nothing else he was rather enjoying the expression on Zeg's face. "You asked me to come settle the manner because you didn't want the fields to burn. That's exactly what I'm doing."
 
Ah, unpleasant... Mildred thought as she and her probably comrades made their way to the town as the small man continued with his boring story. She had an urge to sharpen her weapon to cover the babbling man's voice. But that would fail the quest...

With the villagers on view, it seems that the quest have already started as Duncan began to talk. Hoping that this would go smoothly, Mildred awaits for further reactions from both parties; especially if it goes into the bad side of the bed.
 
Good 'ol Duncan, Frank thought to himself fondly. His eyes twinkled under his hood, and his facial scars rearranged themselves into a grin. Always nice to see Duncan taking charge, a job that Frank would only do if there was absolutely no one else suitable. Now that the "hero of justice" had arrived on the scene, the puffed up little patron's plot was starting to appear pretty precarious. The way he'd ignored Frank's earlier question about negotiation had told him all he needed to know, ironically, and now Frank was prepared to enjoy watching Duncan take his show delightfully off the rails. So long as he got paid, in coin or knowledge, Frank was just fine.

Of course, watching was all well and good, but only after one was prepared to act if they had to. Not being a fool, Frank stealthily loosened his rapier, Needle, in its holder, and made sure his various mixtures were easily accessible as well in case the situation turned ugly. He peered at the farmers behind their barricade. The farmers may have little skill in fighting, but raw numbers and muscle could sometimes make up for the lack. These farmers in particular looked to be made from good strong stock, he noted for later. Now let's see if their brains match up to their brawn. How had they discovered their pay was shorted, and more importantly, could they prove it? Frank hoped someone else from the party would help with negotiations; he was well aware that he was probably the worst in their group at first impressions.
 
The long march didn't really bother Higor, but he could have done without all the talking. Higor was a little annoyed when he found out who they could be potential be up against. Maybe joining this guild wasn't the best idea. I mean all they do is sit around a lot and this? Really there has to be bigger problems then some whiny farmers, Higor thought to himself. In addition to this Duncan's need to find out all the information through negotiations really bothered Higor, who thought there was going to be a fight. Letting out a shy Higor hoped this would go badly for Duncan, so that he could put his sword to use before it started to rust.
 
The Old Man looked at Zeg, then to Duncan, and then back to Zeg, as though in slight disbelief. He was more then happy to explain his case. "The rikker family hold all the deeds here. We... can't sell the drops, only they. - But we can still burn 'em if you take another step, Zeg!!" he shouted, mindful of Zeg's thoughtless meandering closer. Zeg's posture shot up, keeping still. "But now Old Man Rikker's not even paying us the meager wages we were promised! Every harvest we get less!"

"And what do they even use it on?! They give their lil' lackeys like Loga here raises!!" shouted another villager, eliciting a strong response from Zeg; "We did NOT! They lie! They lied the pay and they lie about this!"

"Yes you did!" roared another villager. "That one has a house in town now, how'd he afford it if not??" Zeg looked toward Loga, who seemed angry, with steel, unblinking eyes. "Don't worry, don't worry... I keep the ledgers, I know they lie." Zeg comforted him. At this point they would normally charge Zeg, if not for the over-eager Orc standing right beside him. The Old man yelled "ENOUGH. Zeg, you insult us, your father cheats us, and now you bring a private army to our doors - no doubt payed more then you owe us. Why don't we just burn the crops and get ran out of our homes already?? I'm too darned tired for this idiocy."
 
Frank frowned and rubbed his chin as he watched the proceedings. No one else from the group seemed to be acting so it looked like he might have to risk putting himself forward, scars or no. He was torn. On one hand, he wanted an excuse to improve his needlework (both kinds) and there was no better place for that than during and immediately after a battle. But on the other hand, having these farmers in his debt would be useful to everyone. Good strong bodies, fine specimens. He was sure at least some call for his services if they knew him, and he could take his cuts later, if things were settled peaceably today. Looked at it in one way, this situation was a win-win for Frank. Still, he tried to think of any way to make a win-win-win. He wanted to have his cake and eat it too, to somehow have a fight break out, but still keep everyone alive and happy, or at least willing to pay afterwards.

As Frank thought, the indignant mutterings from the farmers grew louder, a timer ticking down to blood. It'd be a lot less volatile if this was more one-on-one...wait, that was a possibility! It was a gamble, but Frank lived and killed on the odds of the world. On the bright side, if this the whole situation went rotten he'd still have his win-win. Gathering his courage, he stepped forward, spreading his arms and showing his best friendly smile to the on-edge assembly.

"Gentlemen, milord! I believe I may have a solution to our problem!" he said loudly, and waited until expectant, somewhat shocked eyes were on him. "Milord claims he paid you fairly, farmers, but you say he hasn't. He, as our client, wishes you to pay, but also wishes the fields remain unburnt. That's where we come in," the tattered mercenary said, waving at their group.
"We were hired to settle this dispute, but as yet, no one has brought any proof to the table besides their words. Therefore, to avoid both burnt fields and dead farmers, I propose we leave this matter to god, in the traditional way: a contest of single combat!"

Frank wasn't big on belief himself, but rather saw the gods as just another tool in his operations. "Each side chooses a champion, and whichever one wins will be shown by divine providence to have been in the right. God smiles on the honest and worthy, don't you agree?" he said, nodding. "As the accused, you farmers can of course request the contest be changed as you see fit. Maybe you'd prefer the fight be bare-fisted, or you wish to choose which champion Zed sends forth from among us? These details can be decided once both sides accept."

"Of course," he allowed with a bow, "if anyone of you farmers DOES have concrete proof of wrongdoing, bring it forward at once, and we can begin an...investigation. Surely we would discover the villains," Frank said with a smile at Zed. "What say you, Zed? What say you, farmers?"

(OOC- Apologies if this is too long/forward/off the rails, let me know if it should be altered or removed. This is still my first time doing this.)
 
Zeg and the Farmers looked at one another at Franks proposal. The village elder said something to the man next to him, something ado with retrieving ledgers, though Zerg clearly wasn't listening. Before anyone else could react to Frank, he shouted out "Excellent! A duel it shall be!!" pointing wildly at Higor, Zeg seemed to elect the Orc to fight on the parties behalf. The Elder was incredulous at Zeg "No... We have our ledgers to show the drop in our pay. Why can't we just-" Loga interrupted, speaking at all was rare for him, so this was a surprise to even Zeg "Your Ledgers are likely falsified. Clearly they only suggest this only because they know Emundas will side against them and their dishonesty!" Zeg ran with it either way, pointing again to Higor "The Orc represents us. Who represents you?" Soon the farmers decided and brought forth someone who was sleeping at that point; a hairy man by the name of Lyal who stood at least seven feet tall, and had arms like tree-trunks. Lyal stepped out of the town. The Elder insisted the fight involve no weapons or armor, much to Zeg's dismay. Though Zeg seemed fairly confident in Higor.
 
Higor let a twisted smile cross his face, showing off both his sharp canines. Higor set his weapons down, he had no problem fighting without weapons, the kill will be even better this way, Higor thought to himself. Although he was ready to fight and would gladly get it started he turned to Duncan asked, "am I good to ripe this tree abart?"
 
A battle of champions it was to be. It wasn't what Duncan wanted. He would have rather looked over the books for himself and had it examined by someone to determine if the records were accurate and then settled it. However, that was more of a job for a court. Being a mercenary required such circumstances as this. Looking toward Higor the swordsman nodded. "Aye, we've been hired to do a job. Do your best." Even if the job was not ideal a mercenary could not choose to do any less than his best for those that hired him.
 
What a turn of events, Mildred thought to herself. This must be really the way as mercenaries. Despite of different circumstances that would happen, she nodded, cheering on both participants of this duel.
 
Well that didn't go how I expected, Frank thought. And here I went through the trouble of putting in the "pick our fighter option" to the farmers so they wouldn't be scared away from the deal, only to have Zeg take the choice from them and pick our most intimidating warrior. And then the farmers still accepted! Then again, he considered, looking at Lyal appreciatively, perhaps they have reason to be confident. The huge man was a collection of impressive parts. With how tan he was, his well-muscled body looked like it was carved from well-aged wood. It was a pity Frank probably wouldn't get more than a surface look at either of the fighters, the contest being bladeless. Well, maybe, he though with a glance at the grinning Higor. Speaking of which...

"Honorable fighters! As one of you already knows and I'm sure more can testify, I am a doctor of some skill. So be at ease, and don't hold back: as long as your head is at least somewhat near your body, good 'ol Frank'll have you right as rain soon enough!" Better, if you like! he almost added, but stopped himself in time.
 
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Higor stepped forward into the "ring" and looked his opponent in the eyes. Though Higor made it look like he was ready to just jump into the action, in actuality he was a very defencive fighter, using his stamina and speed to outmaneuver and counter attack his opponent until he had tired them. Higor started to circle in a defensive pattern, waiting for his enemy to make his first move, so he could get an idea of what he was up against and how best to win.
 
Lyal licked his upper lip, blanketed by his thick facial hair. He took a stance and lifted his fists into the standard 'fisticuffs'. He didn't want to do this. But he trusted his friends, they don't lie, in spite of what Zeg kept whining about. Arrogant fool. The way this was shaking out, if he lost, no one would get their pay. And Zeg brought an Orc? Lyal knew he was the biggest and the strongest, among humans... This worried him, though he tried not to show it. After a tense standoff, it became clear that Lyal would not make the first move any sooner then Higor.
 
Higor was not about to let the grass grow under that ofes feet. Taking a couple quick steps forward Higor came into reach of Lyal. He paced for a few moments then seeing he would have to start the fight he quickly stepped in and sent a flurry a fast jabs at Lyal's face.
 
Lyal lifted his left arm to block, keeping many of the shots from his face. Still, the blows that did land hurt, knocking him back a few paces. After recovering, Lyal threw a blow for the stomache, nailing Higor, and then would attempt a slam over Higors head. Lyal was less lucky there as Higor swung his head out of the way, sending Lyal lurching forward.
 
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The blow to his chest phased Higor for a moment, but he regained his composure just in time to dodge the next attack. As Lyal lurched past him Higor struck at the side of the man's face with a powerful uppercut.
 
Lyal spun in the air a bit, kicking dust up to Higor's face in the process of landing face first on the ground. A tangible feeling of dread came over the village crowd as Lyal laid unconscious on the ground. Higor had won.

The people roared. The elder just stared. He looked up to Zeg, with a look of pride in his eye, and the elder looked frank and excepting. This was the deal, no matter how much it hurt. Zeg's proud expression went away when they realized the villagers did not see it that way. The crowd roared again, and charged drawing there pitchforks and sickles. This protest has, unfortunately, turned to riot.

((@Black Kett : Thanks for suggesting the riot thing, works well here.))
 
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