|
|
Post by freemartialartist on Feb 6, 2011 0:10:58 GMT -5
The following is a narrative of what took place in a grand mission that shall surely be spoken of in legends to come. It started at the residence of Graybeard Halt on February 5th, 2011.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
Post by freemartialartist on Feb 6, 2011 0:43:28 GMT -5
-Snow crunched underfoot as the figure trudged up to the front step. He thought it was strange, considering traditional Texan weather even at this time of year.
-Standing on the porch was a man of a variable age though not such that one wouldn't consider him young. He wore no shoes or socks of any kind and light tan pants as well as a sleeveless gi top of similar color bound by a simple black and tan belt, tied in martial arts style. Upon his back was the Korean Symbol for "Han" placed inside a Tao or "Yin-Yang", signifying his school of combative study. His countenance was one of gruff practicality, solid of jaw with some patternless facial hair, brown to match his simply cut head, and accentuated with piercing blue eyes. Though he seemed to be toned in build, he was by no means a large man, standing six feet even, but weighing no more than one hundred and sixty pounds. He carried nothing by a scrap of a paper.
-Presently glancing at it, he reread his own words, requesting any able bodied adventurers come to this spot should they accept the impressive quest offered. Three of the little address tags were torn from the bottom. He knew his past colleague and good friend Graybeard Halt, the occupant of the abode before him has taken one, but he had no idea who the other two might be, or if they'd even show up.
-The man was of course *message reduced*, also known as the Free Martial Artist in some circles, and as the Moogle Himself would say, he had seen some shit. A seasoned fighter, of many names per location, he had an agenda rarely known by anyone, including himself. He knew all too well what this endeavor entailed, however, and he prepared to meet it head on.
-Collecting himself from the chill of the night, he knocked upon the door.
|
|
|
|
Post by graybeardhalt on Feb 6, 2011 1:35:36 GMT -5
-A roaring fire crackled as the cold winter night had forced the resident to retract to his den.
-high stone walls were covered with bookshelves filled with rows upon rows of novels detailing his many quests and interests.
-The man sat in cushy red velvet chair before the fire, chronicling his latest adventure. He was a stout man around 6 foot. His age could not be determined for his face was covered by what appeared to be a Dragon face. Even outside of the mask there appeared to be a thick gray beard sprouting from it's jaw. He wore a dark brown tunic and a cloak that melted into the background when he was still.
-Just as he was writing down the last line of detail, he heard a sudden knock at the door.
-He walked through his illustrious manor filled with trophies and other tokens of his accomplishments to reach the huge front door.
-no one knew the man's true name, but those who had traveled with him called him Graybeard Halt, because of the color of his beard.
-When he opened the door, he found his close friend the Free Martial Artist standing barefoot in the snow holding a piece of paper. He quickly ushered his friend in and walked him to the den to warm up. "Thanks" said Martial. Halt just sat down and asked him if it was time to begin the quest. Martial said that they would have to wait for the others to arrive. Halt asked how many were coming. "Just 2 more" Martial replied.
-Waiting for the 2 unknown warriors to arrive, the companions sat in silence in front of the crackling fire.
|
|
|
|
Post by thatfallout3guy on Feb 6, 2011 1:54:16 GMT -5
-The snow was freezing, so freezing that it burned like fire on the face of the man known simply as The Lone Wanderer.
-He was six foot two, and had medium length black hair, with a simple beard.
-He was trying to find his squad that he had deployed with to search the area, they had been separated after some local bandits jumped them. But it was looking bleak and hopeless.
-His armor had been all but destroyed in the assault, his weapon shot and broken, but he still had his trusty trench knife.
-He continued to walk, hoping that he would find some sign of civilization, keep telling himself to move on, that everyone was waiting for him back on the Olympus.
-When he could go on no longer he collapsed to his knees, he could go no further. He couldn't help but laugh, he had survived many trials, and defeated many strong enemies, but he was powerless against the forces of nature,
-"So this is what it feels like to be beaten?" He asked himself, "Gotta say, it kinda sucks."
-But as he started to fade he noticed a shape in the distance, that of a house. He quickly stood up and began sprinting to it.
-He prayed that the residents would be as kind to him as he had been to so many people.
-He stood there on the porch and opened the door, not even knocking. Before he could get a good look at the two men in the room, he collapsed, and passed out.
|
|
|
|
Post by freemartialartist on Feb 6, 2011 2:02:29 GMT -5
-"Damn!" Martial stammered through the incessant chattering the sudden burst of cold brought forth.
- Together Martial and Graybeard dragged the man inside and fixed him up with a seat by the fire.
-"What do you propose we do about this?" the fighter inquired.
|
|
|
|
Post by graybeardhalt on Feb 6, 2011 2:07:19 GMT -5
-After the initial shock of having a stranger collapse in the front door, Martial went out to get more wood, for the fire was getting low.
-While he did that Halt used what basic knowledge of magic he had to check and make sure that the stranger had no major injuries. He had come close to frostbite and there were some scorch marks on his gear, but he was fine, just knocked out.
-When Martial came back with the logs and threw them on the fire, the stranger suddenly jumped up and backed away pulling out some sort of knife.
|
|
|
|
Post by thatfallout3guy on Feb 6, 2011 2:16:38 GMT -5
-As he stood there holding his Trench Knife tightly, carefully examining the two men that stood before him.
-He could tell that these men were neither hostile, nor pushovers, and in his current condition he stood no chance of survival.
-He quickly put his knife away, and said to them, "Sorry, for pulling a knife on you, and barging into your home uninvited. It was either that, or freeze to death. As far as the knife goes that was just a natural reaction, I can't be too careful, especially where I've been the past few years. They call me the Lone Wanderer, and you two?"
|
|
|
|
Post by freemartialartist on Feb 6, 2011 2:24:25 GMT -5
-Seeing the life return to the bewildered man's eyes, *message reduced* decided to try formally conversing.
-"I'm *message reduced*, you might know me as the Free Martial Artist. The gentleman with the face here is Graybeard Halt, the owner of this establishment. You wouldn't by any chance be one of the men who took up my offer would you?"
-He handed the swiftly recovering man the flier, and watched his expression.
|
|
|
|
Post by thatfallout3guy on Feb 6, 2011 2:30:49 GMT -5
-"Of all the luck!" He exclaimed to himself, "You're the man I'm looking for! Me and my friend decided to take you up on it, I don't know when he'll be here, he had to do me a favor before he came,"
-He then offered his hand to shake, "Good to finally meet you."
|
|
|
|
Post by graybeardhalt on Feb 6, 2011 2:37:59 GMT -5
-Relieved that their wait was halfway over Martial grasped the Lone Wanderer's hand and shook it tightly. "It's good to finally meet you" said Martial, flashing a grin. After they were finished, Halt stepped over and shook the man's hand coldly calculating whether he'd be any use to the group. He passed the test, barely, but he would be a suitable companion for this unknown journey they were about to embark on.
-Once they had all settled down Halt asked the Wanderer where he came from and how he thought he could help them.
|
|
|
|
Post by thatfallout3guy on Feb 6, 2011 2:49:16 GMT -5
-"I come from a place known as the Capital Wasteland. And if you want to know how I can help you ask anyone from there what it was like before I arrived. But as far as actual field skills go I can heal you, I'm a medic, the best there is. And a damn good shot if I say so myself" He then stopped and pulled out his Trench Knife, "And if they get close I can more than handle them with this bad boy." He then sheathed it, and looked up at the two men.
-"What about you? How do I know you two won't hinder me on the battlefield?" He already knew just by looking at them that they could handle themselves, but he felt as though he needed to ask.
|
|
|
|
Post by freemartialartist on Feb 6, 2011 2:57:28 GMT -5
-The Free Martial Artist sensed that the man's hostility was less than sincere, but he decided to play along with the jab.
-"Well for one thing, combatively speaking I'm more than proficient in several schools of technique, can survive on less than nothing for more than a while, and most importantly, I know where we're going and how to get there. As for my friend, I can personally vouch for his, unique, set of acquired skills."
|
|
|
|
Post by graybeardhalt on Feb 6, 2011 3:06:58 GMT -5
-Halt could see that the Wanderer was eyeing him slightly, trying not to be rude, but cautious at the same time. "Well, now that that's settled, why don't we turn in for the night. It's late and we don't know if the last member will even show up tonight." Halt said, breaking the silence. "If you'll come with me I'll show you to your rooms."
-Leading them each to a guest room and making sure they were fine with the conditions, Halt suddenly seemed to sag. The night's events had truly exhausted him. He stumbled to his luxurious Master Bedroom and dropped onto the huge bed, falling into a deep sleep as soon as his back hit the covers.
|
|
|
|
Post by thatfallout3guy on Feb 6, 2011 3:13:18 GMT -5
-As he looked around at this room he couldn't help to feel a little home sick, 'I hope she isn't too worried.' He thought to himself.
-He then looked out the window, wandering where his friend was, "Noven if you ain't here tomorrow I'm kicking your ass." He said silently to himself.
-He then collapsed on the bed, 'Wow, this is really comfortable.' He thought as he quickly dozed off, he soon could be heard snoring.
|
|
|
|
Post by freemartialartist on Feb 6, 2011 3:22:59 GMT -5
-Not used to the comforts of a conventional bed, Martial opted instead for the simple chair placed in the corner adjacent to a small wooden desk. After a few breathing exercises, he drifted into quiet meditation.
-Though he tried to think true, ultimately his mind wandered. The tasks of tomorrow would be significant ones indeed, but not that he and his new companions couldn't handle he believed. Though the thought that most plagued him was the state of the remaining wayward traveller. He feared he wouldn't be up to the challenge, and yet he had a very positive feeling. He decided worrying about it wouldn't serve him in the days to come so he allowed his trance to become the tranquil calm of sleep.
|
|
