Mercator
| A Lister always delivers! |
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Deluxe
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Post by Oralie Lister on Jan 9, 2019 4:03:40 GMT
Quest Name: Don't Shoot the Messenger
Details: A nobleman in Silvaria has broken down near you and needs a message delivered to his estate post-haste. Be careful, though; his guard dogs are not to be trifled with, and his butler is known to be wary of trespassers.
Word Count: 750 Words
Modding: Solo.
Reward: 25 Florence
On the cobblestone road ahead of Oralie was a mana-powered coach tilted to the side like a glorious golden-scaled wyvern with a crippled leg. A crisply uniformed man, presumably the driver, was kneeling on the ground, attempting to affix a wheel to a naked axle from which it must have popped right off. Oralie observed this spectacle for a moment, then approached the carriage. She knocked on one of the glass windows.
Someone, a nobleman by the looks of it, cracked the coach door open. His eyes narrowed. "Yes?"
"Hi! Is everything alright here?"
"Does everything look alright here?" he retorted. His voice was dry, but sweat was beading on his forehead. He gave her a once-over. "Hmm. Are you a messenger?"
Oralie snapped into a salute that would make a Regnum commander proud. "Yessir! Lister Delivery, at your service! Our motto is: a Lister always delivers! How may I help you?"
The nobleman nodded his head absently as he bent down, opening a compartment by the door. He retrieved a fancy memo pad and a pen. Oralie stood motionless as he took a minute to scrawl a hurried memo, which he ripped out and folded into a tiny square. He passed it to Oralie. "Take this to the St. Dalliance manor, and do it quick. There's no time to waste."
Oralie tucked the square into one of her messenger bag's many pockets. "No problem! That'll be 25 Florence, please."
The nobleman waved his hand. "Have my butler Octave pay you. Now go."
Oralie summoned her wings and took off. Five straight minutes of flying later, she realized she had no idea where the St. Dalliance manor was.
Total WC: 283/750 |
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Mercator
| A Lister always delivers! |
| |
|
PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Deluxe
|
Post by Oralie Lister on Jan 9, 2019 21:41:03 GMT
It took some asking around, but Oralie managed to locate the St. Dalliance manor at a dip between two hills wrapped by tall, foreboding gates. There was an unlocking contraption set into the doors that she couldn’t figure out. Oralie tried to peer through the bars instead, but her eyes refused to focus. There must have been some kind of obfuscation magic at work.
Well, a pesky enchantment was no match for Oralie’s gift of flight. She summoned her wings and soared over the gate, landing on the immaculately manicured lawn—only to be met face-to-face with several black slavering beasts the size of a bears.
“Doggies!” Oralie squealed. Then she kicked off the ground just in time to avoid having her torso torn off by a confluence of teeth. One of the beast’s jaws did close around her leg, but she thrashed hard enough to force it to let go. Her ankle was scratched up, though, and her fine leather boot was bone, reduced to tatters below. A good excuse to go shoe shopping later, she thought cheerfully.
Oralie darted to the side as a beast leaped unnaturally high, once again close to mauling her. She climbed higher into the sky, rummaging in her messenger bag as the beasts snarled below, awaiting a moment of vulnerability.
“Here!” Oralie pulled her fist from her messenger bag. The beasts continued to snarl. “You want this, doggies? Hm, boys?”
The beasts stopped snarling, perplexed. Their ears perked.
Oralie winded up as if about to throw a baseball. “Then go… FETCH!” Her arm arced.
The beasts sprinted along the sprawling estate like a stampede of wild horses. Oralie watched them go, bemused. She had only pretended to throw something; in truth she had thrown nothing at all. Dogs were dogs no matter what size.
Humming, Oralie headed for the mansion at the heart of the estate.
Total WC: 595/750 |
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