One Silver Piece - [Action / Voice]

[arturius]

[Arthur jolted awake, shivering. His first thought was his sword, immediately reaching for it, only to find snow waiting for him. He soon realized he was half naked in the snow. Not good. It must have been an enchantment. His sister's doing, no doubt. All he had to his name was simple pants and a strange book. After yelling for Merlin for a bit, he gritted his teeth, tightened his jaw, and picked a direction. Fortunately a small abandoned outpost wasn't too far away. Inside he found some spare clothing, some food, and a map.

His first stop was the smithy. He had intended to request a weapon, hoping to find some loyalty to Camelot. But after discovering the recently claimed sword in the stone and no staff present, he simply took the weapon back. Far be it for him to deal with thieves. The shirt of chainmail was most likely his as well. He took that back in short order as well, pulling it back on. This was no doubt a town of thieves and sorcerers. They must have abandoned him in the snow, figuring he would freeze to death. Well, they thought wrong. He would be getting to the bottom of this.

And what better place to find bandits than a tavern? He had no gold on him, but he figured he would rectify that problem once he had found his attackers. So sitting down at the bar, he slapped the bar, and ordered a cold tankard of mead, while carefully surveying the occupants in the bar.]

[Voice] (after his time at the bar)

I am Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot. If there are any other citizens of Camelot still loyal to me, speak up. There are important matters to discuss.

((ooc: so for the record, if you want to action it up, he can be found at Good Spirits or later, in the plaza during his voice message))

Comments

[herotypical]

Because it's always sorcery? Number one cause of shenanigans, heartache, and bad breath. True facts, right here.

[ oh you'll just love her fast and loose definition of what actually counts as magical, arthur.

hint: not her. ]

[arturius]

[You know what, finally they can agree. He sits down, clasping his cup again.]

Magic has caused no end of troubles for Camelot. And now I'm here. With wings, no less.

[herotypical]

C-Camelot.

[ oh. now she remembers. ]

You're from Camelot.

[arturius]

[Nod.] Do you know how to return there? Once I have made it past this bubble, anyway.

[herotypical]

[ oh sure you just take a left by neverneverland and then THEN, dorothy, you just gotta follow the yellow brick road.

:| ]

I don't. Never been. Once...met a guy from there. But he didn't really pass on a map or anything. S-sorry.

[arturius]

[How tremendously unhelpful!]

What of the other Five Kingdoms? Surely you must know a general direction to work with.

[herotypical]

[ maybe this is why she hates breaking the news to newbies. they always think you're the idiot. ]

Look. You haven't really been catching my drift, mister. You're trapped. We're trapped. Everyone's trapped. There is no general direction to work with. We're prisoners in this barrier and the only times we're allowed outside of it? Is so we can kick the enemy of our enemy's butts. Which doesn't make a whole lot of tactical sense but neither does their desire to perma-kill us all.

[arturius]

[Because she IS an idiot! He's King Arthur! What's a barrier but a small obstacle in the way?]

Yes, yes. I've gathered all that. But let us assume, just for a moment, that somehow, wonderfully, I escape the barrier. If I do that, what direction do I go? North? South? I need something to work with.

[herotypical]

I'll bet you anything -- anything you could ever want to name -- that you will not escape that barrier. Not on your onesome.

[ don't make sweeping wagers with other hero types, summers. ]

[arturius]

How many times have I heard that? But usually the barmaids in Camelot aren't so cheeky.

[herotypical]

Yeah? Well? The comparing me to any other barmaid you've ever met buck stops right there, buddy. Just as a heads up.

[arturius]

Well you don't need to worry about that. Occupation aside, you've got nothing in common with any barmaid I've met before. You're a lot cleaner, for one.

[herotypical]

Thanks. [ flatly. ] I think.

[arturius]

In fact, I would think you were of noble blood, if it weren't for your work here.

[herotypical]

[ her posture stiffens. her chin lifts. jack always insists, after all, that she's type to be of the quality -- though she denies it readily and often. ]

It's just a day-job. It's what I do and not who I am and certainly not what I did before I came here. You'll...figure that out on your own, soon enough.

[arturius]

[Well don't take it personal, Buffy. He'd say that of just about any modern person who took the time to groom themselves.]

Perhaps. But I don't intend to be here that long. [He's about to take a drink from his mead but stops upon an important realization.] If the Malnosso are outside of our reach, I won't be able to pay you for this.

[herotypical]

...Don't sweat it. This one's on me.

[arturius]

... thank you, then. [Taking a drink, feeling a bit better about it. He may be king, but he's not above accepting people's charity.]

[herotypical]

You can just write the IOU out to Buffy Summers. Esquire.

[ she doesn't even know what garners a person an 'esquire'. she's just rolling with the noble punches, here. ]

[arturius]

[She gets an amused eyebrow raise. Sorry Buffy, but you are not a man of high rank.]

And you'll receive one in due time. [But he can't just go giving out his identity, can he? Not when enemies of Camelot could be anywhere.] I'm Gwaine.

[herotypical]

Hi...Gwaine.

[ camelot had tripped her memory; she knows who's standing before her. sitting before her. whatever. ] You didn't happen to come across a book when you woke up, did you?

[arturius]

Oh. I did. [He had forgotten all about it and tucked it away. The snow had been more pressing at the time. He retrieves it, setting it on the counter.] How did you know?

[herotypical]

...We all do. Here. Let me assign you a little light reading, huh? Like I said, tending bar is only my day job.

[arturius]

You're going to tell me what to read now, are you? [A barmaid. That can read. Oh, that's rich.]

[herotypical]

Oh, fine. Fine. Here's little old me just trying to helpfully provide you with some answers. I don't get paid enough to put up with back-sassing like this.

[ is she joking? WHO KNOWS.

well -- we know. it isn't that she doesn't get paid enough; it's that she doesn't get paid at all. ]