Post by Deleted on Feb 7, 2018 19:13:09 GMT -5
Teetering on the edge of sanity and a complete meltdown, it was then that a flash of inspiration struck Spindow.
It was an undeniable truth that interpersonal relations were an insurmountable wall for him to scale. His tendency to speak and act without any regard to others was a trait that all too often has resulted in scenarios much like this, true; In his eyes however the real crux of this all was the swordmaiden's conviction that he was a Dark Lord that must be attacked witout hesitation. Until he could definitively put that allegation to rest trying to calm her down would be as worthless an endeavor as removing her sword from the ice and asking nicely to not be hit again.
So that being the case, if talk was cheap, maybe a gesture of good will could win her over to the "Stop Assaulting" side. Spindow turned and leaned over into the fountain. Fortunately as he had hoped the bone dry bowl had done an excellent job of gathering refuse through long past storms. Grabbing an armful of twigs and leaves, along with acquiring a few loose slabs from the fountain's brickwork, he started immediately on his plan.
-hiss- -sizzle-
The girl sulked through the next hour in silence as she sat by her sword. Occasionally she would try to free it reasoning that the ice might have melted even somewhat out in the open, but even if Spindow tried to explain it didn't work like that she wouldn't believe it at all. By this time the sun had already set and nightfall had come in.
"Oy, why don't you give it a rest for tonight? The sword isn't going to magically come loose, so unless you really think that hypothermia is the secret trick you need to gain the upper hand on me stop moping around and get over here."
-sizzle-
Close by the fountain Spindow had set up a rudimentary bonfire to camp by for the night. He had set it up just close enough that it was within spitting distance of her beloved blade, however far enough that she couldn't feel the warmth without stepping away from the sword. It was a rather devious temptation he reckoned, but that alone didn't seem to be enough. Shivering in chilling winds, she continued to staunchly protest her sworn enemy's offer.
"You get points for moxie kiddo, but you're better off losing the battle to win the war here."
Although the taunt of a warm fire wasn't enough to sway the lass from her spot, it was only until the wafting odor of cooking meat began to arrive that she gained full awareness of her own hunger at this point. Her stomach now awakened plead with her to give herself over to a warm meal after spending all day out in the wilds, and eventually it prevailed.
"...Another trick of a fiend I see."
"Oh can it already, I'm not a Dark Lord."
As Spindow again refuted the besmirchment he retrieved a thin slate of stone and scraped a strip of skipjack off his makeshift stovetop for the swordswoman. Although she accepted the meat with some hesitancy, it was evident that there was still distrust preventing her from eating it.
"What's the matter now? Are you gonna tell me that seafood is the spawn of darkness too because sorry to say that's all you're getting."
"I don't understand where it came from. There isn't a pond or river anywhere for miles. If you wanted to trick me wouldn't you have gone with something more like a rabbit or swime?"
"Oh, that. Hahaha... It's a bit of a long story but a friend sen- Swime?"
Spindow looked confusedly at the girl as if to wonder if she had mispoken, but realizing that she had not said anything she found particularly odd he shrugged the concern away and continued.
"I got them from a friend I suppose is the sum of it. I was in the middle of delivering them before we met up I guess is the easiest way to put it"
Seeing that his explanation wasn't quite enough to satisfy her skepticism, he sighed and snatched away a chunk of the fish he handed her and ate it very deliberately as if to prove that it wasn't poisoned or prepared for any nefarious means.
"There see? The only thing suspect is how bland and unseasoned the fish is. Happy?"
"...All right."
With that, the pair ate quietly for a time, only speaking up occasionally when the topic of additional portions came up.
*Full Recovery!*
The hot food seemed to calm down the girl enough that it was worth taking a gamble at having a chat now.
Spindow learned that this swordswoman was named Rachel, short for Rachel "The Pure". When asked if the Pure itself was short for something like "Pure Agression, or "Pure Instinct" she explained that as a Hero-in-Training getting a title like that came with the profession. Rachel explained that in this world good and evil are locked in a never ending struggle due to the presence of The Eternal Overlord, The Deathly Doomperor Stygeon Goreblood. It's the job of all heroes to train and defeat Dark Lords so as to prevent the balance from shifting too far in the Doomperor's favor, allowing him to return to once again initiate an age of doom.
"Of course, you would know that already right?"
"Stop that."
When pressed as to why the Rachel was so distraught in the face of a hypothetical and completely unproven Dark Lord, she explained how, in the village she had been training in, there was a certain lottery that offered fabulous prizes to heroes in exchange for their gol. All the other adventurers and heroes had been making fun of her for trying to win the grand prize, a set of Ancient Platinum Armor worn by the original Hero of Lore. But when news came that the Doomperor had awakened she knew that she had to give a shot at winning to prepare for the upcoming battle.
Weeks were spent buying lotto as many lotto tickets as she was allowed to buy a day, but no prize came. It soon turned to as many as she could afford after selling everything aside from her only pair of boots and pajamas, but as Rachel developed a reputation for being something of a problem gambler, other adventurers started to distance themselves and requests from the villagers dried up as well. She was about to go completely bust when she finally won that Knightly Broadsword, but at that point she was so far gone that the only way to earn any money was to go on gathering quests and sell back whatever she found in overhunted territories like the Abandoned Township.
Spindow listened intently arms crossed to Rachel's life story. No matter which way he looked at in only one conclusion was reached.
Rachel is an Idiot. A complete and utter Idiot.
"I... See why you would value that sword so much now. I'll give it back to you tomorrow morning so I don't get stabbed in the dead of night."
"Thank you so much, I'll do my best to give you an honorable vanquishing for your kindness Spindow."
"You know what? Let me ask you something else."
Rachel looks inquisitively at Spindow as she awaits his question. It's actually shocking that despite completely losing all her hatred for him she still has absolutely no intention of letting him go off with his head still on his shoulders. What should be asked here?
A. "Why are you so sure I'm a Dark Lord?"
B. "How can I prove I'm not a Dark Lord?"
C. "For god's sake woman can't you stop callimg me a Dark Lord?"
D. "Okay Fine I'm a Dark Lord. Now What?"
E. Something else that has nothing to do with being a Dark Lord.
F. Say nothing and go to sleep. There is no winning against an Idiot.
Enemy:
Rachel: 38/38
Bio: An adventurer in a white tunic. Currently Disarmed.
Notes:
Idiot.
Party:
Spindow: 75/75
It was an undeniable truth that interpersonal relations were an insurmountable wall for him to scale. His tendency to speak and act without any regard to others was a trait that all too often has resulted in scenarios much like this, true; In his eyes however the real crux of this all was the swordmaiden's conviction that he was a Dark Lord that must be attacked witout hesitation. Until he could definitively put that allegation to rest trying to calm her down would be as worthless an endeavor as removing her sword from the ice and asking nicely to not be hit again.
So that being the case, if talk was cheap, maybe a gesture of good will could win her over to the "Stop Assaulting" side. Spindow turned and leaned over into the fountain. Fortunately as he had hoped the bone dry bowl had done an excellent job of gathering refuse through long past storms. Grabbing an armful of twigs and leaves, along with acquiring a few loose slabs from the fountain's brickwork, he started immediately on his plan.
-hiss- -sizzle-
The girl sulked through the next hour in silence as she sat by her sword. Occasionally she would try to free it reasoning that the ice might have melted even somewhat out in the open, but even if Spindow tried to explain it didn't work like that she wouldn't believe it at all. By this time the sun had already set and nightfall had come in.
"Oy, why don't you give it a rest for tonight? The sword isn't going to magically come loose, so unless you really think that hypothermia is the secret trick you need to gain the upper hand on me stop moping around and get over here."
-sizzle-
Close by the fountain Spindow had set up a rudimentary bonfire to camp by for the night. He had set it up just close enough that it was within spitting distance of her beloved blade, however far enough that she couldn't feel the warmth without stepping away from the sword. It was a rather devious temptation he reckoned, but that alone didn't seem to be enough. Shivering in chilling winds, she continued to staunchly protest her sworn enemy's offer.
"You get points for moxie kiddo, but you're better off losing the battle to win the war here."
Although the taunt of a warm fire wasn't enough to sway the lass from her spot, it was only until the wafting odor of cooking meat began to arrive that she gained full awareness of her own hunger at this point. Her stomach now awakened plead with her to give herself over to a warm meal after spending all day out in the wilds, and eventually it prevailed.
"...Another trick of a fiend I see."
"Oh can it already, I'm not a Dark Lord."
As Spindow again refuted the besmirchment he retrieved a thin slate of stone and scraped a strip of skipjack off his makeshift stovetop for the swordswoman. Although she accepted the meat with some hesitancy, it was evident that there was still distrust preventing her from eating it.
"What's the matter now? Are you gonna tell me that seafood is the spawn of darkness too because sorry to say that's all you're getting."
"I don't understand where it came from. There isn't a pond or river anywhere for miles. If you wanted to trick me wouldn't you have gone with something more like a rabbit or swime?"
"Oh, that. Hahaha... It's a bit of a long story but a friend sen- Swime?"
Spindow looked confusedly at the girl as if to wonder if she had mispoken, but realizing that she had not said anything she found particularly odd he shrugged the concern away and continued.
"I got them from a friend I suppose is the sum of it. I was in the middle of delivering them before we met up I guess is the easiest way to put it"
Seeing that his explanation wasn't quite enough to satisfy her skepticism, he sighed and snatched away a chunk of the fish he handed her and ate it very deliberately as if to prove that it wasn't poisoned or prepared for any nefarious means.
"There see? The only thing suspect is how bland and unseasoned the fish is. Happy?"
"...All right."
With that, the pair ate quietly for a time, only speaking up occasionally when the topic of additional portions came up.
*Full Recovery!*
The hot food seemed to calm down the girl enough that it was worth taking a gamble at having a chat now.
Spindow learned that this swordswoman was named Rachel, short for Rachel "The Pure". When asked if the Pure itself was short for something like "Pure Agression, or "Pure Instinct" she explained that as a Hero-in-Training getting a title like that came with the profession. Rachel explained that in this world good and evil are locked in a never ending struggle due to the presence of The Eternal Overlord, The Deathly Doomperor Stygeon Goreblood. It's the job of all heroes to train and defeat Dark Lords so as to prevent the balance from shifting too far in the Doomperor's favor, allowing him to return to once again initiate an age of doom.
"Of course, you would know that already right?"
"Stop that."
When pressed as to why the Rachel was so distraught in the face of a hypothetical and completely unproven Dark Lord, she explained how, in the village she had been training in, there was a certain lottery that offered fabulous prizes to heroes in exchange for their gol. All the other adventurers and heroes had been making fun of her for trying to win the grand prize, a set of Ancient Platinum Armor worn by the original Hero of Lore. But when news came that the Doomperor had awakened she knew that she had to give a shot at winning to prepare for the upcoming battle.
Weeks were spent buying lotto as many lotto tickets as she was allowed to buy a day, but no prize came. It soon turned to as many as she could afford after selling everything aside from her only pair of boots and pajamas, but as Rachel developed a reputation for being something of a problem gambler, other adventurers started to distance themselves and requests from the villagers dried up as well. She was about to go completely bust when she finally won that Knightly Broadsword, but at that point she was so far gone that the only way to earn any money was to go on gathering quests and sell back whatever she found in overhunted territories like the Abandoned Township.
Spindow listened intently arms crossed to Rachel's life story. No matter which way he looked at in only one conclusion was reached.
Rachel is an Idiot. A complete and utter Idiot.
"I... See why you would value that sword so much now. I'll give it back to you tomorrow morning so I don't get stabbed in the dead of night."
"Thank you so much, I'll do my best to give you an honorable vanquishing for your kindness Spindow."
"You know what? Let me ask you something else."
Rachel looks inquisitively at Spindow as she awaits his question. It's actually shocking that despite completely losing all her hatred for him she still has absolutely no intention of letting him go off with his head still on his shoulders. What should be asked here?
A. "Why are you so sure I'm a Dark Lord?"
B. "How can I prove I'm not a Dark Lord?"
C. "For god's sake woman can't you stop callimg me a Dark Lord?"
D. "Okay Fine I'm a Dark Lord. Now What?"
E. Something else that has nothing to do with being a Dark Lord.
F. Say nothing and go to sleep. There is no winning against an Idiot.
Enemy:
Rachel: 38/38
Bio: An adventurer in a white tunic. Currently Disarmed.
Notes:
Idiot.
Party:
Spindow: 75/75
Feed me lemons or feed me life!
