Coming to Trade - Printable Version +- 'Souls IPB Archive (November 2007–October 2012) (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb) +-- Forum: Dead IC (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb/forumdisplay.php?fid=110) +--- Forum: Dead Topics (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb/forumdisplay.php?fid=21) +--- Thread: Coming to Trade (/showthread.php?tid=24253) |
- Amy Sunders - 01-10-2012 [html] Amy Sunders
Word Count → 000 :: Out of Character text.
It had been a while since she'd headed west for more supplies. The time had come again though, and Amy hoped to sell the remaining horse that hadn't been taken and get more supplies. There were so few comforts in this ragged area, but Amy would do her best to claim what she could and bring it to the canines who dwelt here. True, Amy mostly enjoyed those little luxuries for herself, wearing a sleek coat with a fur trim, or a golden necklace with a ruby pendant. She was willing to share though, and would trade this away.
<style type="text/css"> .ramasks b {font-weight:bold; color:#1a1009; text-shadow:#fefff1 0px 0px 1px; letter-spacing:1px;} .ramasks p.ooc {font-size: 11px; text-align:left; padding:0px 30px;} .ramasks p.ooc + p {padding:0px 5px;} .ramasks .wc {text-transform: uppercase; font-weight:bold; color:#1a1009; text-shadow:#fefff1 0px 0px 1px;} .ramasks .name {font-size:60px; font-family: 'Nothing You Could Do'; text-align:center; color:#ffeb7d; padding:0px 15px 200px; text-shadow:#1a1009 1px 1px 4px;} .ramasks p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 20px; margin:0px;} .ramasks {width:500px; margin:0 auto; background-color:#a87340; background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/LpaOl.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #000000; padding:50px 0px 5px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#fefff1; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style> [/html] - Drakien Lusk - 01-10-2012 [html] OOC here! :: Word Count → 379 Drakien had been moving north for some time, having only just entered Nova Scotia a few days earlier. The days before had passed in a blur to him, but now it seemed the haze had lifted, as he found himself, quite suddenly, on the back of his loyal Breixo, his lute in his hands and his fingers strumming lazily. There was no tune coming from the instrument, probably because he wasn't actually trying to play anything, but the simple series of sounds was soothing, and he--and even Breixo, who would usually jump at the chance to throw him off while he was distracted--were both rather sedate--relaxed, he supposed. Humming just as tunelessly as he played, Drakien was rather distracted by the sound of wagon wheels, and lifted his head from his instrument to look up curiously. Just ahead of them, riding in the same direction as they were, was a wagon, in the back of which he could see all sorts of treasures, as well as a horse tied behind. A merchant, perhaps? He slung the lute onto his back, as the space was freed up since his bags were slung over Breixo's rump, and kicked the Vanner into a trot, his hand taking firm grasp of a good handful of mane in order to control him. The horse whickered, and soon sped up until they were matched with the driver's seat of the wagon. He was somewhat surprised by what he saw, and looked at the woman curiously for a moment before lifting a hand. "Sastimos!" He greeted her the Romane way, blinking curiously at her...rather plain garb. She wasn't brightly colored as he was used to, and he wondered for a moment if he'd made a mistake--it was a single wagon, after all, and a caravan was usually made up of more than that, but she could still be like him; alone, her own caravan. He wasn't used to seeing traveling merchants--and then he had to reconsider. They'd had to chase a lot of newcomers off their turf, in his time alone; perhaps they were not so uncommon after all. It was a good thing he wasn't trading, then, he mused, or else this might break out into a small war. .drakien .ooc {font-style:italic; } .drakien p {padding:2px 0px; margin:0px; text-indent:35px;} .drakien b {color:#CBCACA; letter-spacing:-.2px; text-shadow:#000000 2px 2px 2px; } .drakien {background-color:#000000; background-image:url(http://i1209.photobucket.com/albums/cc3 ... ad-1-1.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:2px solid #FFFFFF; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size:12px; color:#000000; letter-spacing:.4px; word-spacing:.3px; line-height:16px; width:475px; text-align:justify; } .drakien-border {width:479px; border:1px solid #000000; margin:0 auto;} .drakien .inner {margin:120px 10px 10px 10px; padding:10px; background-image:url(http://sleepyglow.net/souls/25pct_white.png); border:1px solid #000000; border-radius:20px;-moz-border-radius:20px; -webkit-border-radius:20px;} </style>[/html] - Amy Sunders - 01-10-2012 [html] Amy Sunders
Word Count → 000 :: Out of Character text.
Amy looked up in surprise as a horse rode up next to them. She studied the brightly garbed stranger, noting the dyed cloak and skull. He was most definitely a foreigner to be so dressed. Well, she was a foreigner to this land as well, with it's savagery and lack of eloquence. It was all she could do somedays to not run screaming off into the woods. It was only the treasures and contact with other canines that kept her happy. She glanced over her shoulder to where Hadley sat quietly, out of view. He'd tried to run off recently, which had severely disappointed her. A sharp beating had taught him his lesson though, and he sat inside the wagon now nursing his wounds and attending to her requests.
<style type="text/css"> .ramasks b {font-weight:bold; color:#1a1009; text-shadow:#fefff1 0px 0px 1px; letter-spacing:1px;} .ramasks p.ooc {font-size: 11px; text-align:left; padding:0px 30px;} .ramasks p.ooc + p {padding:0px 5px;} .ramasks .wc {text-transform: uppercase; font-weight:bold; color:#1a1009; text-shadow:#fefff1 0px 0px 1px;} .ramasks .name {font-size:60px; font-family: 'Nothing You Could Do'; text-align:center; color:#ffeb7d; padding:0px 15px 200px; text-shadow:#1a1009 1px 1px 4px;} .ramasks p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 20px; margin:0px;} .ramasks {width:500px; margin:0 auto; background-color:#a87340; background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/LpaOl.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #000000; padding:50px 0px 5px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#fefff1; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style> [/html] - Drakien Lusk - 01-10-2012 [html] OOC here! :: Word Count → 301 Drakien smiled a bit as she returned his greeting, but it seemed she didn't know what it meant, so his thoughts on her being one of the Romani fled from his mind. Just a traveling merchant, and one who had quite a few goods, it seemed. He paused as he considered her question, and tilted his head to look down the path, running a hand through his mane thoughtfully. "West, you say?" It didn't surprise him that there were few travelers this far north, and though he'd planned to go even farther, hearing that there were tribes to the west surprised him. "Yes, perhaps it is that I am going west." He mused. Then, pausing to look at her with a small, playful grin, he added, "I am knowing not where I am going, see. I go...how you say?...Where wind takes me." And he nodded firmly, his eyes traveling curiously to her wagon as she looked over her shoulder. He allowed a moment for his mind to wander, and then twisted to look over his shoulder, remembering the horse and wondering at only the one she was selling. "You are merchant, yes? What is it you are selling?" He asked curiously, and turned back to look at her, his eyes shining with interest. He already had a horse, of course, but Breixo was mean and nasty, and hard to handle on the best of days. He wouldn't mind another, if not to ride than for the opportunity to get a wagon--a vardos, perhaps--of his own. Yes, a vardos would be lovely; a traveling home, rather than a merchant's cart. And one large enough to be pulled by two horses? Unthinkable! He'd have been the talk of the caravan back home for even thinking of such a thing. .drakien .ooc {font-style:italic; } .drakien p {padding:2px 0px; margin:0px; text-indent:35px;} .drakien b {color:#CBCACA; letter-spacing:-.2px; text-shadow:#000000 2px 2px 2px; } .drakien {background-color:#000000; background-image:url(http://i1209.photobucket.com/albums/cc3 ... ad-1-1.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:2px solid #FFFFFF; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size:12px; color:#000000; letter-spacing:.4px; word-spacing:.3px; line-height:16px; width:475px; text-align:justify; } .drakien-border {width:479px; border:1px solid #000000; margin:0 auto;} .drakien .inner {margin:120px 10px 10px 10px; padding:10px; background-image:url(http://sleepyglow.net/souls/25pct_white.png); border:1px solid #000000; border-radius:20px;-moz-border-radius:20px; -webkit-border-radius:20px;} </style>[/html] - Amy Sunders - 01-10-2012 [html] Amy Sunders
Word Count → 000 :: Out of Character text.
Amy watched him think through her question, her eyes following his fingers running through his mane. It was rather thick, a good indication of how thick his pelt was. It probably kept out a good portion of the cold, much like Amy's own coat. She still wore clothes, but that was because of fashion than any real need to do so. Amy would feel embarrassed to walk around without clothes on in public. Parading around in front of a would be lover was a different matter entirely.
<style type="text/css"> .ramasks b {font-weight:bold; color:#1a1009; text-shadow:#fefff1 0px 0px 1px; letter-spacing:1px;} .ramasks p.ooc {font-size: 11px; text-align:left; padding:0px 30px;} .ramasks p.ooc + p {padding:0px 5px;} .ramasks .wc {text-transform: uppercase; font-weight:bold; color:#1a1009; text-shadow:#fefff1 0px 0px 1px;} .ramasks .name {font-size:60px; font-family: 'Nothing You Could Do'; text-align:center; color:#ffeb7d; padding:0px 15px 200px; text-shadow:#1a1009 1px 1px 4px;} .ramasks p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 20px; margin:0px;} .ramasks {width:500px; margin:0 auto; background-color:#a87340; background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/LpaOl.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #000000; padding:50px 0px 5px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#fefff1; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style> [/html] - Drakien Lusk - 01-10-2012 [html] OOC here! :: Word Count → 310 Her face was closed until he mentioned her wares, and then a smile blossomed; but, like the sun attempting to meet the moon, his slowly mellowed, his previous smile melting into a small frown as his brows pulled together and he concentrated on what he wanted from her. She said she could get anything, and he didn't doubt it, though her boast of value might have made him snort at a less opportune time; he supposed such an ability might be valuable in this area, but it was by no means unique, as he knew many merchants back in Europe who would trade for something they did not yet have and give the promised goods at a later date. He gave no indication that he'd heard--or even understood--that part of her boast, however, and simply nodded, glancing back toward the back of the cart where he could faintly see the horse tied there. "What might you have me trade for horse in back?" He had little in the way of valuables, save perhaps the Moonshine he was unwilling to trade--not until he had a way to make more, at least--and a few knick-knacks he'd picked up on his journey here. He was quite willing to trade labor for anything, though, and perhaps a few of the lesser secrets he held, from merchant to merchant--but it depended on how valuable she considered the horse. He could see for himself, even without looking it over, that it wasn't all that well-cared for, probably due to neglect or simple ignorance. Drakien hadn't been a horse trader for nothing all those months back, after all, and so if she tried to claim it for something ridiculous he'd be forced to walk away. Which would be a pity, really, as the horse had done nothing to deserve that. .drakien .ooc {font-style:italic; } .drakien p {padding:2px 0px; margin:0px; text-indent:35px;} .drakien b {color:#CBCACA; letter-spacing:-.2px; text-shadow:#000000 2px 2px 2px; } .drakien {background-color:#000000; background-image:url(http://i1209.photobucket.com/albums/cc3 ... ad-1-1.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:2px solid #FFFFFF; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size:12px; color:#000000; letter-spacing:.4px; word-spacing:.3px; line-height:16px; width:475px; text-align:justify; } .drakien-border {width:479px; border:1px solid #000000; margin:0 auto;} .drakien .inner {margin:120px 10px 10px 10px; padding:10px; background-image:url(http://sleepyglow.net/souls/25pct_white.png); border:1px solid #000000; border-radius:20px;-moz-border-radius:20px; -webkit-border-radius:20px;} </style>[/html] - Amy Sunders - 01-11-2012 [html] Amy Sunders
Word Count → 000 :: Out of Character text.
It wasn't just a boast, as Amy truly did deliver anything, from the mundane such as fur to the extreme, such as a child's head on a platter. One simply had to pay the price. She ignored the fact that his smile faded, revealing that he understood what she said. Amy didn't know why the smile faded, but waited until he continued to speak. Incredulous at his request she looked at the horse. Amy would have given it to him for free if he'd offered to take it off her hands. It was rather troublesome for her. To be offered a trade was fantastic.
<style type="text/css"> .ramasks b {font-weight:bold; color:#1a1009; text-shadow:#fefff1 0px 0px 1px; letter-spacing:1px;} .ramasks p.ooc {font-size: 11px; text-align:left; padding:0px 30px;} .ramasks p.ooc + p {padding:0px 5px;} .ramasks .wc {text-transform: uppercase; font-weight:bold; color:#1a1009; text-shadow:#fefff1 0px 0px 1px;} .ramasks .name {font-size:60px; font-family: 'Nothing You Could Do'; text-align:center; color:#ffeb7d; padding:0px 15px 200px; text-shadow:#1a1009 1px 1px 4px;} .ramasks p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 20px; margin:0px;} .ramasks {width:500px; margin:0 auto; background-color:#a87340; background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/LpaOl.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #000000; padding:50px 0px 5px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#fefff1; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style> [/html] - Drakien Lusk - 01-11-2012 [html] OOC here! :: Word Count → 318 She seemed willing to let him make an offer, and he held up a finger, murmuring, "Mne nuzhno posmotretʹ yego v techenie, one moment, please?" He requested, and then pulled Breixo to fall back until he was in line with the stallion. It tossed its head, and Breixo bared his teeth in return, causing Drakien's hand to tighten in his mane. Drakien studied the creature, finding him to be rather docile--at least in comparison to Breixo--and most probably already trained, at least partly. He reached out to run a hand down the smooth flank, conducting a short examination from horseback, and then rode back up to the wagon's driver seat, thinking it over. He had little on him in the way of goods, close to nothing he was willing to trade, so it took him a long moment more to answer her question. "He is good horse, yes? You trade in labor?" He asked curiously. The caravan had done it all the time, at least among themselves; it was like selling themselves into slavery for a short time, to be used however the debt-owner wished, and when the time was up the 'slave' would be released and the goods would be theirs. There was a strict rule against trading the goods away while they were being paid off, but Drakien felt uneasy about committing to as much as a horse would usually cost; that was two or three months, at least, and he simply didn't have that sort of time to commit to a stranger. "Maybe favor?" He'd estimate a horse of that quality to be maybe five, no-questions-asked favors, which was essentially the same thing, only with up-front goods and longer, more drawn-out payment. But, if he could get away with it, he'd try to go for less; he didn't exactly trust her the way he would the other Romani. .drakien .ooc {font-style:italic; } .drakien p {padding:2px 0px; margin:0px; text-indent:35px;} .drakien b {color:#CBCACA; letter-spacing:-.2px; text-shadow:#000000 2px 2px 2px; } .drakien {background-color:#000000; background-image:url(http://img440.imageshack.us/img440/7239/draketab.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:2px solid #FFFFFF; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size:12px; color:#000000; letter-spacing:.4px; word-spacing:.3px; line-height:16px; width:475px; text-align:justify; } .drakien-border {width:479px; border:1px solid #000000; margin:0 auto;} .drakien .inner {margin:120px 10px 10px 10px; padding:10px; background-image:url(http://sleepyglow.net/souls/25pct_white.png); border:1px solid #000000; border-radius:20px;-moz-border-radius:20px; -webkit-border-radius:20px;} </style>[/html] - Amy Sunders - 01-12-2012 [html] OOC here. Word Count → 000 The foreigner fell back to examine the horse. Sharply Amy clicked her tongue, and Hadley moved to make sure the wolf wasn't trying anything funny. Her ears trained on the back. She wished she could go back and watch, but she'd chosen to keep moving and not stop. It seemed a little pointless to do so now. He rode up again, and offered a rather ridiculous price in her opinion. He must have come from somewhere that favors had smaller weight, as her favors could extend to killing as well, and it could take years to pay off a single one.
.amyhour b {font-weight:bold; color:#fc8cff; letter-spacing:1px; text-shadow:#31224b 0px 0px 1px;} .amyhour p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 13px; margin:0px;} .amyhour {margin:0px auto; width:480px; background-color:#ac69fc; background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/CeqhO.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #30383c; padding: 290px 0px 3px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#31224b; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} .amyhour .wordcount {color:#fc8cff; letter-spacing:0px; font-size:11px; font-weight:bold; border-top:1px dashed #31224b; text-align:right; padding:0px 5px; text-transform:uppercase; margin:0px 15px 15px 15px; text-shadow:#31224b 0px 0px 1px;} .amyhour .ooc {font-style:italic; font-size:11px;} .amyhour p b:before { content: open-quote; } .amyhour p b:after {content: close-quote; } </style>[/html] - Drakien Lusk - 01-12-2012 [html] OOC here! :: Word Count → 328 He'd merely been asking she would trade in favors, but it seemed his limited grasp on the language--or at least how to speak it--had come in handy this time. She'd gone as high as she thought she could get away with, and the ball was in his court now. He considered her offer, as he would have eventually tried to haggle it down to three with anyone, but she was a stranger, not even Romani, and he didn't trust her--not even as far as he could throw her. "Two favor." He said, and then held up a hand, a little glimmer in his eyes that belied the fact he was enjoying this. "Two restricted favor. Reserve right to say no, ask to perform different task." He folded his hands over Breixo's neck, eyeing her curiously to see what she would do. Any member of the caravan would have laughed in his face and most probably thrown the deal out. Restricted favors were meant for strangers; but that was what she was. He couldn't afford to bring packs down on his head for killing someone, or stealing a babe from one particular family. Had he offered no restrictions, that was most likely what he would be asked to do, and though he didn't take favors lightly, wouldn't refuse even her simplest requests, if she asked him to do such things that would put himself in danger he had to be able to back out. The favor would still be hers either way, she'd just have to find someone else to do the particularly dirty jobs. It was a good compromise, especially if she did what he would do, and take a restricted favor as a lesser unit than an unrestricted one, and raise the price again. He knew what he was aiming for either way, and though it had been a long time since he'd haggled with anyone, he felt he was rather enjoying this exchange. .drakien .ooc {font-style:italic; } .drakien p {padding:2px 0px; margin:0px; text-indent:35px;} .drakien b {color:#CBCACA; letter-spacing:-.2px; text-shadow:#000000 2px 2px 2px; } .drakien {background-color:#000000; background-image:url(http://img440.imageshack.us/img440/7239/draketab.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:2px solid #FFFFFF; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size:12px; color:#000000; letter-spacing:.4px; word-spacing:.3px; line-height:16px; width:475px; text-align:justify; } .drakien-border {width:479px; border:1px solid #000000; margin:0 auto;} .drakien .inner {margin:120px 10px 10px 10px; padding:10px; background-image:url(http://sleepyglow.net/souls/25pct_white.png); border:1px solid #000000; border-radius:20px;-moz-border-radius:20px; -webkit-border-radius:20px;} </style>[/html] - Amy Sunders - 01-13-2012 [html] Amy Sunders
Word Count → 000 :: Out of Character text.
The foreigner did decide to barter. He lowered it to two, and then threw in that they would be restricted. That was irritating. Amy probably wouldn't be able to get no restrictions from him then. She could definitely up the price though, especially since he was throwing around favors like they were parting gifts. If she actually knew his history Amy would have dealt with him differently, having a protocol she used for gypsies. She didn't know though, and was stuck dealing with him the same way she did with everyone else.
<style type="text/css"> .ramasks b {font-weight:bold; color:#1a1009; text-shadow:#fefff1 0px 0px 1px; letter-spacing:1px;} .ramasks p.ooc {font-size: 11px; text-align:left; padding:0px 30px;} .ramasks p.ooc + p {padding:0px 5px;} .ramasks .wc {text-transform: uppercase; font-weight:bold; color:#1a1009; text-shadow:#fefff1 0px 0px 1px;} .ramasks .name {font-size:60px; font-family: 'Nothing You Could Do'; text-align:center; color:#ffeb7d; padding:0px 15px 200px; text-shadow:#1a1009 1px 1px 4px;} .ramasks p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 20px; margin:0px;} .ramasks {width:500px; margin:0 auto; background-color:#a87340; background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/LpaOl.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #000000; padding:50px 0px 5px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#fefff1; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style> [/html] - Drakien Lusk - 01-13-2012 [html] OOC here! :: Word Count → 221 She met his eyes, and then gave him the most ridiculous price he'd ever heard. He couldn't help but bark out a laugh, sheer incredulity coloring his tone. She couldn't possibly be serious; favors weren't something to be handed out like spare supplies, and to pay eight for a horse that was probably not fully trained, and on top of that wasn't one of the breeds he was used to, thus costing him more time and effort to learn its temperament and skills, was like asking him to cut off his own hands and serve them up on a platter. In fact, he'd have rather done the latter. He was already shaking his head throughout his thought process, but after a moment, he voiced his concerns, as well. "No. Horse is unfamiliar breed; cannot tell level of training. Will already cost dearly in time to me, why should pay so much?" He demanded, and then met her eyes again, frowning. "Will pay four restricted favor. That is final offer; take or leave." He had no dire need for another horse, anyway; it had been whim, and the desire for his own vardos to live in, that had made him ask in the first place. He already had Breixo, and the Vanner's attitude was more than he could handle as it was. .drakien .ooc {font-style:italic; } .drakien p {padding:2px 0px; margin:0px; text-indent:35px;} .drakien b {color:#CBCACA; letter-spacing:-.2px; text-shadow:#000000 2px 2px 2px; } .drakien {background-color:#000000; background-image:url(http://img440.imageshack.us/img440/7239/draketab.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:2px solid #FFFFFF; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size:12px; color:#000000; letter-spacing:.4px; word-spacing:.3px; line-height:16px; width:475px; text-align:justify; } .drakien-border {width:479px; border:1px solid #000000; margin:0 auto;} .drakien .inner {margin:120px 10px 10px 10px; padding:10px; background-image:url(http://sleepyglow.net/souls/25pct_white.png); border:1px solid #000000; border-radius:20px;-moz-border-radius:20px; -webkit-border-radius:20px;} </style>[/html] - Amy Sunders - 01-16-2012 [html] Amy Sunders
Word Count → 000 :: Out of Character text.
Amy didn't move as the wolf laughed at her price. True, it was fairly ridiculous. Amy knew that, but had wanted to see if he was willing. It had happened before, people agreeing to the most ridiculous things. They tended to be gullible. Even knowing that this one wasn't, Amy had still played the game out. She knew the price wasn't acceptable. Amy was used to dealing with people being much more cautious about favors as well, usually only agreeing to one or two. Getting so many was good for her.
<style type="text/css"> .ramasks b {font-weight:bold; color:#1a1009; text-shadow:#fefff1 0px 0px 1px; letter-spacing:1px;} .ramasks p.ooc {font-size: 11px; text-align:left; padding:0px 30px;} .ramasks p.ooc + p {padding:0px 5px;} .ramasks .wc {text-transform: uppercase; font-weight:bold; color:#1a1009; text-shadow:#fefff1 0px 0px 1px;} .ramasks .name {font-size:60px; font-family: 'Nothing You Could Do'; text-align:center; color:#ffeb7d; padding:0px 15px 200px; text-shadow:#1a1009 1px 1px 4px;} .ramasks p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 20px; margin:0px;} .ramasks {width:500px; margin:0 auto; background-color:#a87340; background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/LpaOl.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #000000; padding:50px 0px 5px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#fefff1; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style> [/html] - Drakien Lusk - 01-17-2012 [html] OOC here! :: Word Count → 214 Drakien wasn't a heartless man. He'd worked with horses most of his adult life, and he knew the way they thought; to hear such a blatant threat might have worked, were she more familiar to him. But favors weren't something to be bartered at such a high cost, and her unsightly desire to get the last word in, and to have the upper hand, had lost her this trade. He glanced back at the horse and then shrugged, the corner of his mouth twisting in unnoticeable disgust, before he pulled Breixo's reigns and began to kick him into a gallop. "My loss, eh?" He chuckled, and then he clucked his tongue and shook his head, as Breixo leaped forward and began racing down the road, pulling quickly in front of the wagon and soon leaving it eating his dust. Having only just come to this land, he couldn't foresee himself staying long; if all the Luperci here were as barbaric as this one, he would drive himself away just to be rid of them. He felt bad for that horse, though. He only hoped its death was quick and painless, however impossible such a thing was. As for the merchant woman....well, he wouldn't be attempting a trade with her again any time soon. .drakien .ooc {font-style:italic; } .drakien p {padding:2px 0px; margin:0px; text-indent:35px;} .drakien b {color:#CBCACA; letter-spacing:-.2px; text-shadow:#000000 2px 2px 2px; } .drakien {background-color:#000000; background-image:url(http://img440.imageshack.us/img440/7239/draketab.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:2px solid #FFFFFF; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size:12px; color:#000000; letter-spacing:.4px; word-spacing:.3px; line-height:16px; width:475px; text-align:justify; } .drakien-border {width:479px; border:1px solid #000000; margin:0 auto;} .drakien .inner {margin:120px 10px 10px 10px; padding:10px; background-image:url(http://sleepyglow.net/souls/25pct_white.png); border:1px solid #000000; border-radius:20px;-moz-border-radius:20px; -webkit-border-radius:20px;} </style>[/html] - Amy Sunders - 01-17-2012 [html] Amy Sunders
Word Count → 000 :: Out of Character text.
Amy watched the stranger pull away emotionlessly. She felt nothing for the loss or gain that she'd made, nothing beyond cold calculation. The horse was a burden to her, and being rid of the beast was the benefit. She needed food anyways, so killing the horse became a gain, though an unexpected one. Losing those favors was slightly disappointed, but she hadn't entered the area planning for a trade, or been expecting much to come out of it. She pulled the wagon to a halt and drew her sword. Hadley drew further in as she walked up to the stallion. She calmed it, softly petting it's nose, before bringing the sword up and slicing it's throat.
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