ninety-nine bottles [r]

[Cyrus]

It was a fine night in one of the towns of Ylisse to grab a seat in a local tavern and relax with a drink. Few people were wandering the streets at this late hour, and whoever was walked with determined speed towards their family’s homes, not wanting to be out amongst the night dwellers. Ruffians and thugs were beginning to take the streets, and beneath the starry sky the roads could turn dangerous.

Cyrus, though, wasn’t fearful of the danger that possibly lurked at the dark corners. He’d grown up in Ferox, after all, and being amongst men known for their brash natures and dangerous attitudes taught him well. Don’t reveal weakness. Don’t reveal fear. Even if he did get picked on, the former soldier doubted anyone would consider some pocket change worth the risk of getting stabbed.

Taking a turn down the corner, Cyrus tilted his head to look for somewhere he could spend the night at. He spent most of the day familiarizing himself with the town. The wandering Feroxi hadn’t gotten this far into Ylissean land before, may as well make the most of his time before moving on.

After passing several buildings, his eyes rested upon one brightly lit place. Getting closer, he began to hear the loud chatter and laughter of men. Most likely drunk men. A grin tugged at the corner of Cyrus’ mouth when he finally found what he’d been looking for. He craved some socialing, and what better way to do so than find a busy inn? Arriving at the door, he pushed it open, quickly scanning the room. It was fairly large. Wooden beams extended to opposite sites of the building, held up by posts planted in the floor of the inn. A detailed eye could notice that some wood inside the building seemed older than others, a sign that past fights may have damaged some of the walls in the past. Around him were loud men, red in the face and drunk. Most were bunched around the long tables, staring intently at games of dice being played or talking and clinking glasses of alcohol together.

Looking for a place to sit, his gaze fell on a section of a counter that was unoccupied. The owner of the facilities noticed the man plop down on a free seat and walked over. A brief exchange of words took place, and Cyrus was soon left alone with a glass of ale. Lifting it, he took a swig, a content sigh escaping his lips.

Now some company, and he'd write off today as a pretty good night.

Dorian

((rambly…but ya, feel free to talk to Cyrus or whatever, he doesn’t bite

[Dorian]

Dorian was in a pretty fine mood considering that he was spending the night in an unfamiliar bed after being kicked out of his own. Basil had been irritable with him again, claiming in no uncertain terms that he was to blame for everything bad that had happened to their family since the day he was born and before and that he was lucky not to have the hounds set on him to chase him out. In short, his brother was angry with him, but all in all, it was nothing that the lord didn't have faith that he could fix with some time and a bit of effort and a chance for the elder to calm down and come to his senses. He was confident in his ability to be able to persuade his brother back to reason once more - the other male was smart, surely he would come to his senses and abandon the madness that currently seized him - so he merely accepted the standoff as a temporary set back as he rode through the quiet streets, his horse's iron shoes clicking loudly against the cobblestones.

A few people eyed him greedily as he passed, something the noble had long since learned to ignore with his flowing lavender hair and his crystal eyes and his various trappings of wealth and influence. He was well enough versed in both the ways of the sword and the rapier, and with both hanging from the saddle of his white stallion, it was little wonder why he was left well enough alone. Bright blue eyes lit up when they fell upon the sign for an inn, and he smiled, a click of his heels urging the horse into a slow trot up to a stableboy before he dismounted fluidly, landing solidly on his feet with only a minimal clanking against his hip from the weapon, a single elegant rapier. For a moment, he considered taking the sword with him as well before he discarded it. He was comfortable enough with just the blade strapped to his waist, so with a quiet word to the stableboy and the press of a single bullion into his hand, he then secured his mount before he strode into the inn.

The counter looked comfortable enough, so the lord made his way towards it, reaching over to brush some of his long hair out of his eyes. But, since it was already occupied by one, the noble offered a charming smile to the single man perched on a stool in front of it. "Do you mind sharing?" he asked. "It's been a long day, and I'd be happy to have some company to share a meal with before I turn in for the night."

Words. -- Tags. Cyrus Notes. Thank you Paradise of the Mirage for giving me enough muse to finally breeze through this thread. I really do love Gakupo's voice, dang, it's usually one of my songs for writing, but this takes the cake for speed of something this long I think.

[Cyrus]

Another pass at the drink in his hand, and a good amount of it was gone already. Idly he wondered if he had enough funds for the day to borrow a room for the night. How long had it been since he last got hired to do something? Was it weeks or months? Whenever it had been, the mercenary knew that he did not have enough to last him for another week.

Sensing something to his side brought Cyrus out of his thoughts. His head turned to see who it was that was close by, and to his surprise, a man appeared beside him. If his wish for company was granted that quickly, he should have wished for more gold instead. A silent prayer flitted across his mind before his attention was fully placed onto the man before him. Dressed in such fine clothing, it was rather obvious that this person was someone of important stature -- most likely a noble. It was obvious who was of higher rank just based off their clothes. What were the norms when greeting a noble? The Feroxi didn't know. From his past experiences, he knew that a friendly smack to the shoulders was how he'd greet soldiers back home, but that didn't seem right now. At least there was a question, which never required formalities to answer, "Grab a seat, I was looking for company myself. Name's Cyrus."

As he waited for the well-dressed man to get seated and settled, he turned forward, raising the glass to his lips again. Questions were beginning to bubble within Cyrus' head. The most prominent one being why such a man was wandering through the streets at this hour. Might as well ask now, since it was pretty important. Nobles should have guards around them for protection, right? Where were his? "What's a man like you doing here at this hour? Too far from your castle?"

A travel worn mercenary and an apparent member of Ylissean nobility. They must have looked like an odd pair.

Dorian

[Dorian]

Dorian laughed softly. "Glad to know that I'm not intruding," he chortled, perching himself up on a stool and flicking his hair back out of his eyes in a practiced motion born of habit. "I'm Dorian. Pleasure to meet you." The noble flagged down a barmaid, flashing her another one of his charming smiles as he ordered a small flagon of ale and a bit of food, obviously having been to a tavern before despite his cultured - read: sheltered - appearance, even if he would be the first to admit that he had never before visited one during peak hours. Keeping his hands to himself as the girl flounced away was easy, something more than could be said for several of the male clientele, but the lord forced himself to ignore the urge to do something about it. He had bigger problems, unfortunately, and he could hardly afford to have himself thrown out of the inn simply because he tried to stick up for the helpless, no matter how much it grated on his sense of honor to turn a blind eye to the bad behavior.

Dorian forced himself to pay attention to Cyrus, unable to restrain himself from chuckling at the joke. "You could say that," he replied easily with a rueful shake of his head. "I had come to try to talk to my brother. He's been angry with me for choosing to do the right thing at the cost of his ambitions." The noble played with the edge of the table. "I had hoped to be able to make him see reason. He turned me away, as I had a feeling he would... but I still had hoped." Waving away the concern, he shifted, turning to the other. "What about you? What's your reason for being here, if you don't mind me asking?"

Words. -- Tags. Cyrus Notes. Wow Dori way to give me a really short post to reply to that. Good job, a plus effort from you. Not really, you deserved to be peed on by that dog, stupid fancy lordling.

[Cyrus]

To be honest, Cyrus had not been expecting such a serious reply. Light-hearted banter had always been natural for him, since it was often the talk that filled his days back home. “Sounds rough,” he said sympathetically, feeling they were the best words to reply with. Family disagreements were never fun.

Deciding not to question further the family situation of his companion, the Feroxi tried to think of other subjects to bring up. Perhaps he could talk about his traveling experience from the last year. Sure he'd only been hanging nearby Plegia's border, but perhaps for a sheltered noble it would be interesting enough place. Before he could begin, however, a question from Dorian was now directed at him. Briefly he thought of his answer, scratching his head. He wanted to sound interesting, but didn't want to give away too much. When one was always wandering around and selling away his loyalties, anyone he knew could be friend one day, then enemy the next. It was unlikely Cyrus would be seeing Dorian again, but there was that chance they might see each other on opposing sides of an army. But when considering their difference in social rank, Cyrus doubted his life mattered much to a noble. A noble’s life mattered, a soldier’s was one of many. When one falls, another can easily take their place.

In reply to the question, he shrugged, the answer not very clear for himself. "Well, a soldier of Ferox got tired of the battlefield. So he wanted to explore the world beyond home." He was referring to himself, of course, but that had happened a year ago. So much had happened since then that the actual memory of leaving from Ferox was foggy and distant -- like it had been ten years rather than one. If asked if leaving had been easy, he’d be lying if he said yes. He left behind his family and friends. It had been a months since he'd seen his parents. Yet that desire for adventure pulled on him like a fishing line, and he couldn't help but be reeled in. Letters were exchanged on occasion, mostly from Cyrus to his family back home. Trying to send a letter to a son who never stayed stationary was difficult. He visited when he could, but that was a rare occasion. "I'm here because I don't know this place. Now I do, and want to know more. But I don't think I'll stay here long." There were still plenty of other places to go, and he still had things to see, lest his time on earth be cut short.

"Well then, Sir Dorian -- or whatever it is you go by. Do you have stories to share? Interesting ones, if you can." A smile spread across his face as he leaned in, eager to hear something new.

Dorian

[Dorian]

Dorian chuckled and shrugged. "Basil is Basil. He'll come around, eventually, in his own time and after he's made far too much of a fuss over the whole thing." The lord was more than okay with leaving things like that, settling on the stool and starting to pick lightly at his food, never putting too much in his mouth at one time so that it would be easy enough to swallow and answer anything. It was an art that all nobility learned, and even if Dorian didn't consider himself nobility anymore, it still meant that he was aware of how to use it.

The lord blinked at the answer, rather surprised by it. "Hmm... that actually sounds quite the journey. I'm jealous." With a soft smile to show that there was no malice, he leaned back, his long lilac hair brushing against his arm. "I've never been outside of Ylisse myself. I've always wanted to travel though. The outside world always seemed so much more interesting than anything else anyone could give me in the pamperings around me. Though I'm the sort who prefers to earn what I have, not assume that it's mine to take." Crystal eyes betrayed no hint of a lie, though they turned curious at the mention of leaving. "I suppose I can't fault you there. But if you ever see me again, I would be more than happy to host you for some pleasant company, Cyrus."

The man laughed at the title. "Please, just Dorian, I can't stand titles. I've not done anything to earn it, and besides, I leave that sort of thing to my brother as a matter of principle." He chuckled softly, hiding it behind a hand politely, remembering himself. "I might have a few stories. I'm not sure how interesting they might be though. Sheltered childhood means I can only give you personal ones if you want to hear anything new, otherwise I'm afraid that I have nothing to give you other than tales of bandits that are likely more than stale news for you." Ah, the price of living a sheltered life, no real stories to tell, and short of trying to spin one, he didn't have very much to offer.

Words. -- Tags. Cyrus Notes. Wow Dori way to give me a really short post to reply to that. Good job, a plus effort from you. Not really, you deserved to be peed on by that dog, stupid fancy lordling.

[Cyrus]

Oh good, no titles. That made things easier. Chuckling at the mention of bandits while taking another drink from his glass, he nodded. Yes, he’d had his own run-in with them. Fun guys to be around when you’re not on their bad side, but he tended to avoid them when it came to raiding villages. Unless money was put into the bargain, but even then he always felt a little guilt. Not enough to give up that gold, though. “No adventures since the time you left your fancy home?” That was alright, of course, but he’d been hoping for something. It didn't have to be about traveling. Daily life could easily be interesting. Did nobles like to play pranks on their mothers? Did they misbehave and get into trouble like a typical village brat? He’d always had the image that they were always well-behaved and not easily amused like a normal kid. Admittedly he'd never met one till now, but still. When a child was born into a world of politics, they tended to be thrown into that world rather quickly. That results in a sucky childhood.

“You must have something. C’mon. A man’s gotta have something to brag about. How many ladies have you wooed? Ever gone into battle? The world’s pretty exciting right now.” He had his own stories to share, of course. But that could wait till later, despite how he wanted to talk about his own adventures. The best way to win a competition, of course, was to wait and come up with something better. If he had to answer his own question, though...he couldn’t tell if he’d actually win. Women didn’t particularly appreciate his sense of humor. His battle experience, though, was good. Six years beneath his belt.

“I’ll admit. It’d be nice to meet with you again. You’re an interesting guy, never met a noble who’d let someone refer to him by his name.”

Dorian
ooc: something felt off about my last post, hopefully this was better :>

[Dorian]

Dorian personally wasn't one who liked to drink, the lord having been pampered far too much in his earlier days to find much interest in such past times, but he didn't do much more than water his own drink down before taking a cautious sip at it, holding the taste in his mouth for a moment before swallowing, deciding that it was diluted enough to keep him from getting too tipsy and letting slip something that he ought not to. Setting the tankard down, he tipped his head to the side slightly at the question, feeling his lilac hair shifting around him as he thought. "Not particularly, unless you count everything I've done as an adventure," he replied, shrugging as he gave a smile of thanks to the barmaid who placed a plate of meat in front of him, daintily taking a fork and placing a piece in his mouth, chewing it thoughtfully. "I don't get up to very interesting stuff yet. Aside from getting kicked by a horse and making some speeches, it's pretty normal enough. Or at least, far more boring than most people would be able to stand."

The noble chuckled, setting down his fork. "I've never wooed a woman, my brother was the one who was always setting me up to try to better our claim to the throne. I just had to stay on the estate grounds and not get up to anything too scandalous, which wasn't too hard when I was basically being nannied every moment of my life." He gave a small smile. "I guess it goes without saying that I've not really be in battle either, though that's going to change soon. I've been in a few skirmishes, but they were really small things, so I'm fairly certain they don't count." Yes, he was bland and boring, but in his experience, bland was encouraged over shame, and it was only recently that he'd been allowed out of the estate where the only people he really knew had been watching him since he was a child. But then he'd never really been interested in courting anyone, so it was hardly as if that was a particularly good indication.

Dorian laughed softly, the sound melodious with the joy lurking behind it. "I'm glad to know you have such a high opinion of me, though I'm sure that I'm not the only noble who prefers to do away with titles. I just happen to be in a minority who do."

Words. -- Tags. Cyrus Notes. I really need to stop falling off the face of the earth. Falling off the face of the earth isn't good for you dang it self. *slaps face*

[Cyrus]

Placing a hand around his mouth, he muffled a snort of laughter. Imagining the man in front of him getting kicked by his horse was amusing. If his own buddies from the army had that happen to them, they wouldn't live it down with Cyrus. It was information he may find useful in the future. You know, in case if there's a pretty lady that didn't need to hear that story for instance. He had earned himself a free drink or two for that. Of course, it was only fair that the same be done to him. He knew that, but he would definitely try hard to prevent embarrassing himself. When it came to his own pride, that was a polished treasure that he wouldn't give up. "Speeches huh?" Cyrus said with interest. "Like in front of armies?" Giving good speeches were hard, since you've got a lot of people to impress. It only gets more difficult when you're in the midst of a losing battle. Then you need to not only bring up people's spirits, but not look like some overly-optimistic fool.

At the mention of the throne, internally he felt a shock run down his spine. So it seemed this man came from an ambitious family. Being exalt of Ylisse...that was like being a Khan of Ferox. Except it wasn't just going to be one part of the country, but all of it. There was supposed to be a competition soon that would determine the next Khan of the whole Feroxian territory, but at least then the citizens would know about the strength of its leader. Strength was what mattered, and strong leadership was sure to follow. Here though, without some official competition, how would the people find a king?

But he still laughed at the small details from Dorian's life. What was more important was the type of man he was beginning to know right now. Apparently the noble had left his home, and from his tone, it seemed he wasn't exactly welcome to come back. Going against his former decision to not question a person's background further, he felt that it may be a good idea to pry just a little. If this man had been able to go after the throne, then he must have been important.

An idea popped into his head and he reached into the folds of his clothes, hand searching for his coins. Feeling the worn-leather bag tucked near the belt of his waist, he pulled it out, shaking some pieces into his hand. It looked like enough for some drinks. "Well. If you're in the mood for learning, I'll be the teacher." Placing the money on the countertop, the coins landed with a light, metallic clink. A mischievous grin spread across his face now as he looked at the noble. There was a hint of a challenge in his green eyes. "If you've been in skirmishes, then you must be a soldier. But..." There was a short pause in case if the lord wished to say something. He was quick to continue, though, "...do you know how to drink like one?" Waving over the innkeeper, he made an order for two drinks. Something strong would be good.

Dorian

[Dorian]

Dorian snorted at the sight of Cyrus trying to force back laugher, waving a hand. "Go on, you can laugh. I suppose it is rather funny, a noble getting kicked by his own horse." He picked at the food on his plate for a moment, swallowing and taking rather delicate bites, if only so that it wouldn't be a long lull in conversation if the mercenary - or at least, the lord thought that his companion was one at any rate, he certainly seemed to fit the part of a sword for hire - had anything else to say. The man nodded at the mention of speeches. "More or less exactly like, actually," he stated, reaching up with one hand to ease a few strands of lavender hair out of his face as he leaned back from his chair. "I've given speeches mostly in front of working people and nobles, those who don't owe me any loyalty, but there's been a few motivational speeches for an army of sorts tossed in there too."

The noble registered a slight sensation of shock running down his companion's spine at the mention of the throne of the exalt. Ah... perhaps he had said too much? He had merely brought it up under the assumption that most knew that almost all of the nobility in Ylisse had a claim to the throne, but perhaps he had been wrong there; it wouldn't be the first time he'd miscalculated though. He wasn't trying to show off his heritage or anything - Naga forbid that! He had forsaken his family's claim to the throne for a reason, after all. No, he had hated being forced to hold himself above everyone else, as though there was something tangibly better about him when really he knew that there wasn't, if it wasn't the complete opposite. After all, the commoners knew how to take care of themselves, and Dorian wasn't too sure he could even manage that.

Still, Cyrus hadn't excused himself, so he supposed that was a good sign. Dorian chuckled at the statement. "I'm always in the mood for learning. How else am I supposed to improve myself, after all?" Though the noble blinked in surprise, crystal eyes wary at the challenge presented. He had never really thought of himself as a soldier, but if the other was going to think of him like that... well, it would probably be for the best not to contest the label, especially in the public like this. There was no telling who could be listening after all. He considered for a moment, weighing out the odds of saying something stupid under the influence of alcohol - highly likely - versus the possibility of causing a scene - almost definitely - should he refuse. "I suppose I ought to learn how, right?" he asked, shaking his head with a good-natured smile. "Besides, I have a feeling that you're not really giving me too much of a chance to decline your offer here, so why not just accept it?"

Words. -- Tags. Cyrus Notes. I really need to stop falling off the face of the earth. Falling off the face of the earth isn't good for you dang it self. *slaps face*