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A Familiar Adventure Chp 1: Even Humans Get Ticks

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Nestor
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Post by Nestor »

Kerbi's lips are pulled back in a snarl. The flash of pain from the rat's bite draws him into a frenzy; only his fighter's training keeps him from succumbing to his canine instincts, tossing his weapon aside, and pouncing on his furred foes to tear them apart with fang and claw.

Defend against Group 1:
[bash]2 = 1540039477 [/bash]

Soak against Group 1:
[bash]5 = 616317531 [/bash]

Defend against Group 2:
[bash]2 = 206847401 [/bash]

Soak against Group 2:
[bash]5 = 1848532158 [/bash]

His swing is no longer a dance of the blade, but the brutal chopping of a butcher at his craft.

Attack on Group 2:
[bash]3 = 1688804805 [/bash]

Damage:
[bash]3,0,15 = 933085528 [/bash]
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Your furious cleaving blows lay low three more assailants, putting an end to their painful ripping of your fur. Only three rats remain and already they are are backing away, waiting for the first coward to bolt to give the others the excuse to do the same.

Then a curious smell wafts by, the smell of mildewed fur, the tang of day old blood...and cat! A shadow slips behind one of the rats and forms itself for but a moment into a single-eyed feline of notable heft (mostly in his stomach); a paw full of ivory claws grabs a retreating rat by the back then vanishes, the rat disappearing with a shriek.

"Vanishing Sloat!" one rat squeaks, seemingly forgetting the butchering beast that stands before him. Confused and panicked, the two rats crouch low and side-by-side, noses twitching and teeth snapping at the air.

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Kerbi expresses his annoyance with a snap of his jaws. While having a pack of rats use him as a chew toy is not a favorite pastime, being ignored because of a cat offends him even more.

"Hey, you mangy furball!" he calls out in challenge to the darkness pooling around the alley, brandishing his glaive to emphasize his words. "Go find your dinner somewhere else! These are mine!"
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You hear a gasp of (feigned) indignation from above you on the lip of the roof, and a dead rat falls from the air and lands with a wet splat in the dirt and blood at your feet. You see its belly has been neatly sliced open. You look up and see "Vanishing Sloat" with the dead rat's liver impaled on one claw, his other paw held dramatically against his (incredibly ugly) face in shock.

"Furball? Should we start our relationship off with the calling of names dear sir?" He stops for a moment to pop the glistening liver in his mouth, adding to his overstuffed tummy. "I would have gotten here earlier but I got tied up. Naughty girl that kitty was, took me an hour to get the string unknotted." His paw rubs his tummy in satisfaction; you can't even see his hind feet for the furry bulk of his belly.

His single, golden eye flickers back to the remaining two rats that are staring up at him in abject terror. "Are you going to eat those two? I'm starving," he purrrrs.
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Kerbi's eyes narrow. His instinctive dislike for felines is slightly abated as he realizes he's already made a mistake by assuming city folk to follow familiar customs. For all he knows, city cats and dogs are tight as ticks.

With a guarded tone, he replies, "My apologies for the monicker, but where I'm from, you don't barge into another being's rhubarb without at least an introduction."

He eyes the two rats and calls back up, "Hold on a second."

Addressing the rodents, Kerbi says sotto voce, "I'll make this simple. Answer my questions and I won't hand you to the walking mousetrap. Do you know where my mistress is?"
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The two rats glance at each other then one points a quivering finger at something behind you, "Da ppprrrretty girl? She's a dddere," and then he (she?) plunges its fingers into its ears and ducks its head, as does its partner.

You * your head to the side, confused when you hear a blood curdling scream from behind you. "Kerbi!" a terrified Summer screams and she runs to you just as you turn around, tail wagging and covered in rat bits.

"By The White and The Red boy, what happened?!?" A gathering of tavern goers begins to gather at the entrance to the alley; extra light is brought to witness the carnage as you try to explain to your master what just transpired. You're a bit suprised to see that most of the people are looking at your handywork admiringly; you have a lot to learn about city folks you suppose.

By the time you're done telling your tale (and an accurate tally has been taken of your battle by the townsfolk), a bowl of hot broth with some rather tasty meats floating in it is brought to you; you suprise Summer by tolerating all the head ruffles the people give you as they shuffle past back into the tavern, in large part because you're slurping away at the tasty soup.

Summer sits next to you, pecking at your fur like a mother hen, looking for bite marks. You quickly lick your rat-bit paw to hide the wound from her inspection. (cont.)
Last edited by Dustland on Wed Jul 21, 2010 7:25 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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"Well Kerbi, I got us some proper adventurer's work," she tells you after you've both calmed down. You glance up at the roof but there's no sign of Sloat, though his particular fragrance still hangs musty in the air. You turn your eyes back to Summer and raise a brow in question.

"Mr. Redcoin, he's a merchant you see, he wants to clear an old manor house just north of here on the King's Middlin' Road. He says there's been some trouble lately on the route and he suspects folks are using the old building as a camp or a base or something. He's keen to have a wizard join him and he'll pay us fifty crown plus a share of any treasure we might seize!"

You tilt your head in puzzlement at her excitement over the amount of coins; you've never really grasped the concept and you can't imagine risking your fur (or Summer's skin) over some smelly bits of metal.

She sees your look and smiles, giving you a big hug. "Don't worry Kerbi, if we do this right, we'll be in good shape to buy passage on a ship out of the Midlands and head to Thronehold proper!"

Thronehold? Ships? You thought the goal was to get HERE and HERE you are! You try to ask questions but she's agonizingly evasive about the whole deal (you suspect she hasn't really asked all the questions that she should have). Eventually she directs you to the stables around the back of the tavern and tells you you'll have to hunker down in there tonight.

Oh well, you're use to sleeping outside anyway and Summer seems happy about the whole situation so you circle twice in some straw and plop down to lick your plucked over fur.

*******************************************************

Just as you're about to doze off, the smell of mildew and rat liver and cat fills your nostrils. You open your eyes and a foot in front of your nose is Sloat, uglier than you suspected now that you get a good look at him.

"Hello friend, Kerbi was it? Sloat, or Vanishing Sloat, or Seein' Sloat, take your pick. All of 'ems me. Now that we're properly introduced, I think it's time we discuss the terms of our companionship to avoid any future ill will, yes?"

You see he's brought a pair of rats along for the visit, both iviscerated and missing their livers. He sees you look over at them and asks, "Hungry? They're all yours! I finished them off once that girl came out fussing over you." He shakes his head as though he's embarrassed to have witnessed such a thing.
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Post by Nestor »

Kerbi snorts. While he's eaten rat before, it's not particularly to his taste; the broth did a rather good job of sating his stomach.

It doesn't hurt to be polite, though, even to a cat. He politely demurs at the offer, "Thankee, but I'm quite fine now. If you're feeling peckish, though, by all means..." he gestures at the carcasses in invitation.

"My mistress cares for me. And I care for her. Very much." He eyes the cat significantly, to make sure the underlying warning is clear.

Something else the feline said catches his attention. "Companionship? We weren't looking to add to our party" he says, puzzled. Especially of your kind, he manages to not add audibly.
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"Well I'm glad you and your keeper are so fond of one another," he replies, more than a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"And yes, I don't suppose you'd know you'll be looking for me on down the path; seein' the path not yet taken's my trick Kerbi old boy. But between that wonderous nose of yours and my good eye, why we'll make quite a team! Three peas in a pod we'll be! You, me, and a hare makes three!"

At his mention of his "good eye" he gestures towards the mass of scar tissue that covers his right eye. At first you assumed it was missing completely but he opens his mangled eye just a bit and a brief flicker of golden light spills out, looking very much like a bright lantern unshuttered for a moment.
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Kerbi's mind whirls as he ponders the situation. The disreputable feline is bound to become a pain in the tail, but if Sloat is truly magic-touched, it might be worth the aggravation.

He composes himself to maintain an air of wary courtesy.

"And what about the path we're about to take have you perhaps glimpsed, Seeing Sloat?" he asks in an off-handed tone.
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Perhaps sensing you're opening to the idea of having him around, Bloated Sloat (as he's called by many a rat in private) settles himself into the hay, mindlessly scratching at a wooden post with his wickedly sharp claws. By The Red he stinks! You can't help but start breathing through your mouth to relieve the assault on your nose.

"Well Kerbi old boy, I've seen a lot and I hardly know where to start. I do know that from here on out, you and me, we've got some travellin' to do. Gotta find us a hare with a gifted ear, two actually!" He flicks his ears to illustrate his point.

"At least I think it's a hare, may just be a rabbit, or mouse with some long ears. Come to think of it, I saw a 'roo once, funny critter brought in to port a few years back, could be one of them, but I doubt it."

"Well, we'll get it figured out by and by. Say, you wouldn't happen to be thirsty would ya?" Before you can respond Sloat melts into the surrounding shadows. A moment later the shadows gather again and push Sloat back out, two partially filled mugs in his paws. You've never tasted ale before but by the gods it does smell good! Oddly, there's a strong human smell to it too, as though someone had just been drinking from the mug.

Sloat smiles contendly as he leans back and rests one of the mugs on his belly, lapping away happily at the frothy brew.
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Post by Nestor »

[Phooey. I posted a response, but for some reason it didn't take. Now I have to reconstruct it from memory.]

Kerbi takes the offered mug and takes a tentative lap, the froth tickling his nose. The taste is bitter... but strangely enticing.

When he realizes the ale is somehow counteracting the cat's odor, he falls to drinking with greater gusto, sitting tailor-fashion on the dirty straw and waiting for Sloat to elaborate further.

"No offense there, cat," Kerbi says, for some reason having to struggle a bit with the words. "But being that you've shown up out of nowhere with nothing more than a tall tale and a smirk, it's a bit hasty to assume we're to be traveling partners."

He straightens up in a stern pose, spoiled by the fact he's a few degrees off kilter. "If nothing else," he announces haughtily, "I'd have to make sure it was all right with the mistress."
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Sloats swipes a paw at the air dismissively, spilling a quantity of ale over himself which causes him to laugh hystarically and you find yourself joining in with a rumbling laugh. Based on the amount of time it takes old Sloat to regain his senses, you're fairly sure he's pretty far gone, and you're a bit dissapointed to see the bottom of your mug appear.

His "good eye" flashes as he regains his composure (at least enough to sit back up); a beam of light cuts through the dark and strikes against the back of the inn/tavern, casting a soft glow against it. Sloat's smile drops just as fast as his mug falls from his hand spilling out the remaining ale.

"Kerbi my boy, I don't think your master'll mind who you'll be a travelin' with," he closes his glowing eye and regards you with the other, which looks frightfully sober.

"I don't think she's going to make it out of that place."
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Kerbi's empty mug clatters on the stable floor as he jumps to his feet in alarm.

"What place? In there?" he says, pointing to the tavern, his other hand already reaching for his glaive.
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"Yes, the tavern. Upstairs are the rooms the humans stay in," his voice is barely a whisper.

You glare at him and take a step forward. More growl than words come out, "What did you see you stinking cat?"

You expect some witty reply to spill from his lips and you're ready to beat him for it, but he just looks at you with his golden cat's eye and answers, "They'll take her out of there in the daylight Kerbi, draped in white cloth and load her on a funeral cart. I saw you walking next to the men carrying her body out. I'm sorry."
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