eXodus
A post Hidden World httyd Roleplay
you cannot hold me captive
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Post by muse42 on Apr 10, 2019 1:08:06 GMT
[TAERINORE]
Dawn in the city of Xirenne was a beautiful thing. The woods were still thick enough that the only split in the sea of greenery was a manmade one, where the city itself sat: a crater in the countryside, cradling the Libathi River gently. Out on the dock district, which was so large it crossed the entire span of the river in a series of bridges and locks, the sunlight cast sharp shadows upon the wooden planks and half-asleep townsfolk.
The city was just beginning to wake up.
Taerinore and his accomplice, a man named Azuriel, had been sent to the city by none other than War-Queen Ashriji herself. Taer was an actor and infiltrator, and his role was simple: pose as a buyer for a local rumored drug dealer, and arrest said dealer after their selling of drugs had been confirmed. Azuriel was there for backup, nothing more. It was a fairly standard mission by Taer's standards, and one that shouldn't've taken too much time.
Of course, there was a little bit of a catch: it was a staged test. Taer knew that Ashriji had a habit of pulling such stunts - she'd stage all sorts of scenarios just to determine if people were worthy of so-and-so, and in order for Azuriel to advance in rank into her personal guard, he'd have to make sure today went well. This was a judgement of teamwork, of acting skill, and of restraint - three things any good soldier of Ashriji's was meant to possess.
In the current moment, Taer stood perched in a small alleyway, tying up his shoe. A large bag of various outfits and makeup was askew at his feet, and he reached inside to pull out a ragged and moth-eaten scarf, wrapping it haphazardly around his neck. To get in character, one had to look the part.
"Well?" he said to Azuriel, who was accompanying him. He'd insisted that Azuriel change his outfit too. "Got any preferences for what you want to wear? I might have something in here."
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Post by drift on Apr 12, 2019 4:13:43 GMT
If this hadn’t been a mission that Ashriji herself had assigned him to, Azuriel would be thinking about how ridiculous this all was. Gods know he wasn’t about to complain out loud about what he’d been ordered to do - but that didn’t stop him from being frustrated by it.
He was a fighter, he felt. And he also felt he didn’t belong in this small city, doing a small job, with a small - well, he’s not really that small, is he? - man. As much as Azuriel was dying to complain in some way, he didn’t know this Taerinore. Who knows? Maybe if he said anything slightly resembling a grievance, he’d lose his chance to become a part of Ashriji’s personal guard.
Azuriel peeked around the corner of the alleyway, catching a glance at the beautiful mix of warm colors that painted the sky. The bright, sharp oranges rose from the edge of the world, pushing the cool purples and blues of the night away, until the moon rose once again. Upon hearing some stirring coming from one of the buildings, the blonde pulled himself back into the alley, turning his gaze towards Taer.
“That scarf really helps you sell the ‘sickly drug addict’ role, by the way, it’s perfect.” Azuriel gestured to his companion with one hand, keeping his off hand on the sword at his hip; he’d ditched his waraxes and bow for the time, in favor of a less flashy and threatening weapon.
“Oh- Me? Well-” He thought for barely a moment, before responding with a shrug. “It’s your performance, not mine - what do you think would work best. I’m here to play along, aren’t I?”
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Post by muse42 on Apr 13, 2019 6:52:43 GMT
[TAERINORE]
"Why thank you," Taer replied with a hint of venom. He couldn't quite tell if Azuriel was attempting to truly compliment him or issue a bit of polite sarcasm, but right now, he didn't care. He chose to interpret as kindness. The scarf really did help pull off the role, he thought.
He sized Azuriel up a little more. He'd already done plenty of look-overs of his state-issued companion, but it wouldn't hurt to refresh his memory. Azuriel's armor was fairly light leather, clean and prim, with the slightest edges of battle damage. The most eye-catching part was the glints of metal upon his shoulders, which bore metal pauldrons that caught the light like mirrors.
No, no, that wouldn't do at all. Far too flashy for a drug addict.
"Well," Taer started, "you'll just be there for backup, so I'm not expecting you to be in the limelight. Still, it would probably be best if... hm." He leaned down to rummage about in the rucksack again, pulling out shirts and holding them up so they framed Azuriel's chest. He cycled through a few before he pulled out something he liked: a long cloak with a hood, its red fabric bleached a mottled pink after years of neglect and sunlight.
Taer got to his feet and continued to hold it out, assessing how it might look upon his companion. "You're far too fancy for any sort of back-alley addict, I must say," he said. "Though I must admit you have style, it won't work here. This cloak should hide the majority of your outfit, if you pull it closed in front of you and hunch over a bit. It'd save you the trouble of having to strip off all your armor, anyway."
He wasn't sure if it'd truly hide the bulge of the pauldrons and the glimmer of metal, but truly pulling off the disguise was of no major concern. Disguises were easy to get, while this was more a measure of Azuriel's acting skills - and besides, there was no real danger in a fabricated situation.
"Try it on," he said, this time extending his arm fully towards Azuriel.
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Post by drift on Apr 13, 2019 7:40:57 GMT
“That thing?” Azuriel scoffed. He pursed his lips, getting ready to go off on some sort of tangent - but stopped himself before he could say anything out of line. It was surprisingly hard for him to try not to be rude.
“Fine.” He decided, “You’re right.” He reached out and snatched the garment from Taer, wasting no time in draping it around his shoulders and tying it around his neck. Azuriel supposed, in the grand scheme of things, the cloak did work.. He didn’t quite look as conspicuous, and his weaponry would be hidden quite easily, in case of the need for a surprise attack. His shoulders might look a little.. Broad.. But, that would be alright.
“You think I’m fancy, do you?” Azuriel chuckled the statement, as he tugged and pulled at the cloth, trying to help it lay right against his form. “That sounds like a compliment. Thank you,” He preened, “I’m sure you’d look quite.. Nice, without all those rags on, that is.”
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Post by muse42 on Apr 15, 2019 2:29:48 GMT
[TAERINORE]
Taer couldn't blame Azuriel's reaction to the rags - it wasn't stylish, that was certain. Still, it got the job done, and any true artisan knew that it was not the tools that mattered, but the hands that wielded them. Taer could've convinced a crowd that he was king even while wearing those rags - or so he liked to flatter himself, anyway.
"Sure, sure," Taer said dismissively. He appreciated the praise, but the golden sheen of sunlight that speckled the mist along the river told him that he was running behind schedule. He gave Azuriel one last confirming look before tying up the rucksack and throwing it over his shoulder. He rolled his shoulders a few times in a final warm-up, then said, "All right. I think that's good, then. Let's get going, shall we? Head low and weapons close."
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