Of Axes and Family

Another day finds Ous in the Ox. Sitting in one of the beat up chairs by the stove, the Ranger has a pair of beer mugs sitting on the table next to him. A pair of throwing axes leaning against his chair, the ranger is sitting quietly at the moment, rolling a cigarette. The bartender is sitting behind the bar, glaring at him. this may be in part due to the unconscious man laying on the floor nearby.

Warrick doesn't come to this bar often for a multitude of reasons. One, he radiates guard energy, which isn't taken too kindly here. Two, he isn't scraping the bottom of the barrel. And three, it'd set a bad example for his daughter.

Unfortunately for him, he's having to take a stop into this establishment to grab something, anything, to eat. Which is where he stands now, confused, looking down at the man on the ground, to the bartender, then to Ous. "... am I interrupting something?" he asks, him bereft of his ensemble of weapons and armor and clad in just a grey overcoat with a longsword strapped to his back.

The door creaks open, to admit a fresh breath of air, and a smol Gobbo. Simony closes the door politely, before wandering into the depths of the Ox. Upon seeing the unconscious body, she sighs, eyeing the Barkeep, who simply shrugs and gives Ous more stinkeye.

With a soft prayer to Navos, Simony administers some aid to the man, his nasty blackeye fading, along with the bump on his noggin. A few moments later, she is pulling herself up into the chair beside Ous'. "You found someone brave enough to face you by themselves? Have they not yet learned anything?"

Looking up from rolling the cigarette, Ous pauses for a moment, giving Warrick a bleary look before recognizing the man. "Warrick! Nae. Ye're no interruptin' Aye'm jes' having me breakfast...lunch...What time is it?" Looking to the bartender, who glares at him again before turning her attention to Warrick, the ranger shrugs then nods to Simony.

"'Lo Simony. It weren't a fight really. We was just havin' one of them mis-comm-uni-cation problems. Namely bein' that Aye were sittin' 'ere bein' no problems tae no one, an' this pisher decided tae try an' take one of me Axes. He dinnae undertand that it were a dangerous tool tha' could get get a man seriously hurt if he dinnae know how tae handle one. I dinnae think he understands plain Common. Aye dinnae even use me big words."

GAME: Simony rolls sleight of hand: Trained Use Only: 0

Warrick looks back to the entryway as Simony enters, him giving a slight wave from the hip to her and lets the cleric tend to the wounded. "Simony."

The question makes him quirk a brow. "It's... noonish," he answers to him before giving a light shrug, the minor apprehension sloughing off. "Ah. Well, that is deserved."

A sigh escapes him as he himself orders something to eat and ends up having to turn down suggestions for drinks from the keep.

The Goblin reaches into her pocket, and pulls a folded sheet of paper from it. Concealing it with a hand, she stands, and hops down from the chair. She saunters over to Warrick, casually, and then slips. Her hand dips into his pocket as she falls.

"Yes, just as I suspected, this is a real hardwood floor." With a grunt, Simony slowly stands, nodding to Warrick. "Hello, Warrick. How're you today?" Her smile is bright and mostly toothless.

"Ah, well, if someone's going to try stealing from a warrior, they may end up paying the iron price, yes? At least you went easy on them, Ous."

Baptizing the cigarette quickly, Ous places it between his lips, before looking back to Warrick. "Aye'm tol' the curry here is good. Ye havin' a seat?" Watching the now conscious guy wander off towards the bar, the large Aesir turns his attention back to Warrick and Simony. Seeing Simony fall, he chuckles and grabs his beer. "Smoooooth." is all he has to say before taking a big mouthful of the beer.

Warrick takes the suggestion for curry, getting that placed before leaning against the bar. Simony hopping down gets a look, and his large coat is messed with as he falls. He blinks, kneeling down to hold a hand out to assist the gobbo up. "I'm well," he answers a tinge concerned.

The once-guard shakes his head. "I won't be here long, but I can chat," he answers in regard to a seat, him putting his hands into his pockets. There's a pause, and he pulls out a paper from his pocket, unfolding it away from the other two.

"We could sit together and enjoy what company we can have while you're here then.", the Goblin suggests. She gestures to the seat she just vacated. "That one is comfortable." Reaching up to pat Warrick's arm, she smiles, "Thanks for helping me up." Turning then to the barkeep, she requests tea and curry chickpeas over rice.

Nodding to Warrick once more, Ous finally lights his cigarette. Nudging the door to the pot belly stove open, with a toe to pull the cigarette smoke out the chimney. "Fair enough. Aye've been wonderin' Why'd ye stop bein' a guard War-rick? Ye do a damnable good job of it."

Looking around the tavern, the ranger shifts in his seat slightly and moves his throwing axes to the other side of his chair.

Warrick's expression softens at the paper. Quietly and carefully folds it up, and slips it into a journal in a large pocket. "Thanks, and no problem," he intones to Simony in a different tongue. <Goblin-Talk>

Conceding, he slides into a barstool beside the two of them. He barely even touches the water passed to him as the question from Ous gets him stymied. Just for a beat. "Thanks. Brass discharged me," he answers. "Was in it for... fifteen or so years. I did enough, they thought. So..." Kind of a lame answer. "... now I take guild jobs." With a finishing grimace.

Simony smiles as War's expression changes, and she nods to the man. "You are most welcome, Rick.", she says in reply. <Goblin-Talk>

the Goblin sighs, rubbing at her face. "You need to up your lie game, cause I'm partly blind and even I can see through that one.", she chides quietly. <Goblin-talk> Looking to Ous, "He might be a retired guard, but he can take down beasts and bad guys with the best of them. And I have to say, you're mighty mean with that axe, Ous. You two have made quite the team, yes?"

Nodding as he listens to Warrick, Ous nods. "Ye pissed off someone higher up the ladder? It happens. If it makes ye feel better, them sort generally die or retire 'fore too long, then ye can get yer way back in if ye want to. Aye dinnae think ye love the mercenary life." The goblin talk between Warrick and Simony passes straight over the ranger's head, but he doesn't seem to mind as he takes another drag of the cigarette and another drink of his beer. it was a skill that Ous had cultivated, being able to drink without removing the cigarette from the corner of his mouth, or lighting his beard on fire.

eyes turning back to Simony, Ous nods. "Nae many Aye trust me back wit' in the field. Aye feel that ye are one of th' least likely tae stick somat in it what dinnae bleong there. Plus, ye got a hell of a throwin arm on ye. Ne'er seen someone bean someone so hard wit' flash powder that ye physically sent them tae another world."

Warrick glances down at Simony, him chewing the inside of his cheek before bringing the glass of water up to his lips. "I'm not lying," he murmurs back in her native tongue. Spoken exactly like someone who was speaking only expressly the truth. <Goblin-Talk>

He shakes his head at Ous. "Mercenary life isn't my favorite, no. I prefer some professionalism, but I'll take what I can get. But, no, didn't upset the Brass. It's...." A sigh leaves him. "... let's just say me and someone else did a lot of stuff several months ago, and we weren't fit for service anymore."

He looks between the two, and he gives a firm nod. "Agree, Ous is pretty good with those axes. Can hold the line pretty well." The mention of the flash powder gets him to actually break face, a snort escaping him. "That was just a good throw is all. I'm just used to throwing all sorts of special equipment from the back to help with the squad."

GAME: Simony rolls sense motive: (15)+3: 18

Simony goes quiet, and looks away as the Bartender returns with tea and curry. She sits on the arm of the chair, propping her bare feet up on the opposite side. The tea mug is safely set underneath, on the seat proper, and then she digs into the curry.

"My offer to listen is still there.", she says softly. "I could tell you're hurting, just as you could tell I was scared, that time." <Goblin-talk>

The consumption of curry, chickpeas and rice continues. "I would trust you both with my life."

Offering a one armed shrug, Ous reaches down and picks up one of the throwing axes from beside his chair. "Me Da were a master wit' an axe. Hand tae hand he couldnae be defeated. He were known on every battlefield he went to. Th' Destroyer is what they called 'im. At the battle of Bannon's reach, 200 enemy soldiers quit th' battlefield and run when they found out he were goin' against them. He carried a Great axe. Double headed an' shar enough tae cut the horizon." Raising the throwing axe, he continues. "When he started training me, Aye could wield this like that axe."

Setting the axe back down and dragging on his cigarette, Ous watches the pair for a moment. "Mercenary life isnae for everyone. It's nae always unorganized though. Ye get a core of people what knows what they're about, an it works like an army. Aye've seen it. aye were a skirmisher meself, they'd send me an a couple other lads behind enemy lines tae cause havoc. It's where they says Aye belongs. they says me heads no right."

Warrick gets his own curry finally, him scarfing down a few bites before pausing to eye Simony. He scowls lightly. "I'm aware, but this /isn't/ the time or place for that," he manages to say after getting food down, firm. <Goblin-talk>

He seems done with that topic, whatever was said in that jittering language having been a touch sore. Warrick electing to listen to Ous's tale, brows raised. "Huh. Sounds like a mighty guy. I've seen some people work an axe pretty well in my line of work. Get someone strong enough, like your dad, and it seems like nothing; not shield nor armor nor scale, can stop it from swinging."

He looks down to the axes briefly. "So I take it you like to use two over just a big one?" Question poised, and an answer to return with it. This time with a sigh. "I know they always aren't, but most of the jobs I've gone on, and the 'adventurers'-" he air quotes- "I've interacted with over the years tend to think they are above the law, and act with indignation, city streets and buildings getting destroyed, unleashing demons, so on and so forth. You two and a handful of others are some I've been able to rely on."

Simony's trust gets a look from Warrick. He stares, then goes back to his curry.

The Gobbo stiffens at his final words in her language, and she simply listens on as Warrick questions Ous on his axes. Where as before she was practically inhaling it, she picks at it more slowly, putting careful mouthfuls up, and chewing methodically.

"Only the strongest of priests are capable of such easy destruction, and one hopes that most, if not all, know better than to cause such for any but the most dire of situations. I think the threat of having one's powers removed keeps priests on the straight and narrow path."

Her eyes flick to Ous then. "Your da sounds like a very strong man." An eyebrow raises up, and she shakes her head. "Your head is just fine. But if you are a good skirmisher, then you are a good skirmisher. You've made short work of man and beast alike."

Looking at the Throwing axe for a moment, Ous shrugs. "Aye'm no as strong as Da was. Aye prefer speed. In th' end it took 150 heavy cavalry wit' a quarter mile run tae take Da down." He pauses here for a moment. "Well, maybe it didnae take tha' many. but that's how many they used. in any case, Thisun is big enough." It's may seem strange a man with arms that looked like he had stuffed cannonballs under the skin and legs as thick as some people's waists saying he preferred speed, but there you have it. Nodding to Warrick again as he slips the intricately carved Battle axe from his belt and offers it over to the man, the ranger grins. "Aye ken what yer saying there about some of them pishters what calls themselves adventurers. Some of them get intae it fer th' killin' an the bloodshed. Some of 'em get intae it because they think they can be above th' laws. Heard someone callin' tha' kind Mur-der Hobos once. Were a good name Aye thought."

Turning his attention back to Simony, Ous grins as he takes another drag of the cigarette. "Aye thank ye fer tha' Simony. Aye think me head is fine. sits where Aye wants it tae, the eyes ears an nose works on it. They just said it were wrong. But that be enough o that anywa's Aye like ye lot. Aye trust ye lot, and if either of ye needs a hand going forward, Aye've got 2 for now an ye can borrow both of 'em. But aye have tae come wit' them too."

Warrick shakes his head. "Not all priests are like that, Simony," he says. "Some do bad, even with the backing of one of the Light. I know of their victims. Were it so easy."

He curry finished, he shoves it away to listen to Ous, him leaning forward some to look at the axes as they're shown. "Tch, a hundred fifty is hard to believe, but that to chase someone? Now that I can get," he chuckles, taking the offered battleaxe with a dip of the head and inspecting it. Hefting the weight, giving it a little twirl in his grip. "Yeah, I can see how you like it. Feels good. Not too heavy, but just enough to carry through."

He hands the axe back, scoffing. "Yes. Those folks. I have had to deal with so many over the years that I am genuinely surprised when I find folk like you all that actually /try/ to do it right."

More talk of trust, and Warrick is less heartfelt about it, but he mentions with a determined, "If you need me, just find me."

"I know.", she says quietly. She stoops to pick up the tea, sipping a few mouthfuls, before the mug and the half full bowl are returned to the bartender. The Gobbo hugs Ous and then Warrick. "I have to be off to the Library. Have a few books to study. See you both later." She moves to the door, looking back at Warrick a moment, before heading out the door.

Nodding to Warrick again as he takes his weapon back, Ous' face goes dark for a moment. "they didnae chase. They run me company down after th' lord we were contracted tae surrendered. run right through the valley, through me company, an' up an over tha' ol' Lord's tent with him inside it. He were a good man. surrendered tae prevent more dyin' Died fer it. Da though, he tooks down a bunch wit' im. 5 of us survived. Them of us what was behind enemy lines when th' surrender went up. Weird that we was in the safest place tha' day." Taking another mouthful of beer, the range waves to Simony as she leaves, then looks back to his friend. Changing direction in the conversation so hard you can almost hear the squaling of the wheels in his train of thought. "Ye say ye got a daughter? How old?"

Warrick shares the look with Simony as she goes, giving her a brief side hug. One that certainly speaks of 'we'll talk later'.

Pulled back to present company, Warrick listens intently to Ous's tale. "Shoot. Sorry to hear it panned out that way. It's good of the Lord surrendered, I think, to at least spare some of the men. At least your luck was there being where you were, yeah?"

All he has is water, but he raises it. "To your Da." And down it goes.

The topic change gets his wheels to screech to a halt. From comradery stories to family. Warrick lightly smiles. "Yes. She's thirteen. Cynthia. Bit of a handful, but she's just excited to try any and everything. Should have seen her face when I tried to explain the place we all went to with the Watcher- or, the Mushroom, as you call them."

Grinning wide as Warrick talks about his daughter, Ous lets out a laugh. His own eyes taking on a youthful bent that for a moment, might actually make someone wonder just how Old the face is under the heavy mane of dark hair and the thick beard. "Kids are great like tha' Aye love their imaginations." Having finished his beer, Ous sets the mug aside and picks up the second one. "I cannae say wha' I were like when Aye were 13. 'bout the closest Aye can say about tha' is that Aye were about your daughter's age when Aye were that old. What does she want tae do when she gets growed?"

Warrick chuckles, adjusting the sword strap that goes across his chest. "She's got a big imagination, that's for sure. I'm just glad she's curious about everything, and is willing to fail over and over to learn something."

That gets a snort out of him. "I can say the same, I didn't act like her at all when I was her age. But..." The question gets him to ponder. "I... don't really know? I've asked her this a number of times, and it changes every time." He holds up his hand, counting out on his fingers. "'Dad, I wanna: do what you do, fly like a wizard, paint everything, play in a band, be a farmer, be an adventurer, wear a poofy wig in a court,' and last but not least, 'join a circus.'" He shakes his head, chuckling and lowering his hands. "I just teach her some things, like shooting a bow, swords, basic things, let school teach her the learned things, and let her have her time. She's thirteen, she'll sort herself out."

Nodding again as he listens, Ous chuckles. "Aye like th' circus idea. Dinnae about th' flyin'. Aye'd rain thin shite o'er everthin' b'neath me if Aye were flyin'. Farmin' might be good too." absently rolling another cigarette in one hand, Ous seems lost in thought for a moment. "Yer daughter, she like archery? She got a decent Bow?"

Warrick laughs, more expressive when talking of his daughter. "If that's what she wants to do, then I better start to learn how to juggle to show her. But flying? Did that a few times. Not the magic way, but on an airship. Very, very useful to rain 'shit' down on everything."

The question gets him to smile. "She likes it. I hadn't been able to afford to give her own crossbow, but these jobs pay quite a bit, and was going to give one to her for her birthday coming up. A shortbow and a smaller crossbow. She likes to shoot mine. Why do you ask?"

Looking over at his own bow, Ous shrugs as he looks at it. it was a Long bow of good quality. It had been reinforced along the backing and the string had a thick rabbit hair silencer woven into it. Currently it was unstrung, the tips of the bow capped in ram's horn. Still though, it was a workman's weapon. Despite the fact that Ous could wield it fairly easily, the weapon was a full 6 feet long. "Aye like this bow. Me da gave it tae me when I were probably yer daughter's age. Maybe. Aye've go' a new one on order. When it's done bein' made, Aye'd like ye tae take this one. give it tae yer daughter, or keep it yerself. If it helps her build a skill, or keeps her Da from gettin' perforated, then Aye'll call it a good place for it tae go."

Warrick blinks at the offer, him sitting upright as he looks at the bow. "I... You don't... a-alright," he manages to stammer out. "I actually... really appreciate that gift, Ous. The least I can do is give you some money for it? She'll love it."

Offering a shrug, Ous looks back to the bow for a moment before turning his attention back to the former guard. "We can discuss it when me knew one is ready, but we'll probably call it 2 gold. Aye'll throw in a quiver of arrows. Ye can teach her tae fish wit' it. there's fishing arrows in there."

The suggested price makes him blink once more. Like he's been told a piece of pristine jewelry can be sold for a blade of grass. "That's... severely underselling it, but if that's what your wishing to take for a broken in bow, I'll take it."

He smiles lightly. "... arrow fishing. Yes, that's a great idea." He holds a hand out to shake, him standing up. "I have to get going, but I really appreciate the chat, Ous."

Taking Warrick's hand in his own, Ous shakes firmly. the grip was like granite, the muscle and sinew in his hands not padded by the usual body fat. "The payoff is tha ye get tae spend time wit' yer daughter an' maybe the bow saves ye once. Ye dinnae like being a mercenary, so Aye'm guessing tha' time wit' the girl is even more important tae ye. Aye consider ye a friend, so both you gettin enjoyment o' that time, an ye no dyin' are important tae me. Aye dinnae have many friends. Th' 2 gold is just so ye knows it's nae charity. Aye've no got a lot of use for money anywa's"

Standing himself, the ranger downs the rest of his beer and begins replacing weaponry on his person. "Aye need tae get me one of them Bandoliliers one day. Ye 'ave a good day Warrick."

Warrick returns his own firm handshake. Not nearly as stony as Ous's, but calloused nonetheless. "You would be completely correct on that front. Time spent with Cinny is important to me." He pulls his hand away. "Friend. Yeah. I don't have many either. High time to change that."

He chuckles. "It's worth getting one. Can keep a ton of tricks up in it. Have a good one as well."

He steps out. Pauses to pull out his journal and look at the paper he was given, before nodding to himself and heading out with a determined gait.

-End Scene-