Chevaleresse

Fortunately for Andre, eventually he does get the upper hand over the greatsworder; his hand inches back the other direction, twitches that way again, and finally slams down to the table - though he wasn't tossed aside like he'd done to the previous losers. "Not bad, ah, what was it? Anders? I'm terrible with names. I haven't lost one of these in a while." He stands up fully, and offers the hand for Andre to shake. Marisa lets out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "Wow, okay, that was hard." She'd dropped the telepathic link about a third of the way in; that curse had a chance of frying her or worse. "Um. Basically I made the curse target more than just your throat. I couldn't make the pain go away, I'm sorry, but, well, you can talk now if you need, so that's an improvement. I'd hoped I could get it to the point that it'd just heat up the air around you, and that might still happen, but I did my best."

Andre finds a fair amount of resistance to his counterpush; it seemed that the man had more in stock than he may have initially believed. The pressure back starts gradually increasing, and doesn't seem liable to stop doing so any time soon. The muscles in the other man's forearm, what could be seen of them anyway, strained, and his expression was some midpoint between a smile and gritted teeth. "More common gems? Well, there are Aquaglow and Sunspire jewels; your problem is less the variety of jewel and more the size, however. I could get you plenty of those relatively quickly, though any bulk order will take time." Mar would probably find Marisa fairly quickly, though she appears to be busy at the moment. "That's. . . Wow. I'll see what I can do." She tugged at the spell hesitantly; she had an idea, but wasn't sure if it would actually work. Trying to simply pry it off, as it were, would likely result in something terribly unpleasant for both of them; she'd need to use a finer approach. Shift it, but without actually straining the binding, make it so it didn't sit quite right, didn't restrict quite like it should. Essentially, trying to intentionally make it resemble a shoddy binding job - something she'd had her own fair amount of experience with. She started to magically grab the spell, lightly, and shift it so it would, for lack of a better analogy, sit crookedly. Once she tried this, regardless of success or failure, she'd try to set down an enchantment that would make Aurora a fuzzier target; the spell might target a wider area with the same amount of force - which would make it painful, but possibly bearably so, to speak - or even shift focus onto the environment. This was essentially setting a binding atop the binding, and something she was a tad more confident in doing.

Hiroki moves forward to C6

The greatsword wielder does, indeed, open up with a great deal of pressure; Andre would likely have been toppled had he not prepared. The pressure backs off after a moment, though he's still generating quite a large amount of force. "Oh. A drider is a being much like yourself, though of dark elven or drow kin. Driders are created using rituals dedicated to Lolth or other similar gods; I assume from your confusion that you aren't one. I suppose you could eat one, but I'd imagine it would prove to be difficult prey for you. Anyway, this ritual. . . Let me take a look, here." It was a good thing she had plenty of practice concentrating on spells; maintaining the bond and doing the next step was probably impossible for many mages, and Marisa herself probably couldn't manage it in a more stressful situation. She reached out, mentally, feeling at Aurora with her preternatural senses, trying to feel out the curse, its borders, what it covered and what it left alone. . .

Marisa questioned her own wisdom at times; this was one of them. This drider had actually admitted to hunting and killing humans and demihumans; by blood and by action, Aurora should be her mortal enemy. But. . . "A binding curse? I wouldn't say curses are my specialty by a long shot, but bindings are something I'm familiar with. Granted, they're not usually on driders - or anything mortal for that matter, but that's a different story - but I might be able to help with yours. I don't know how good this Squidman you speak of was, but it's worth an attempt." The greatsword wielder took Andre's hand in a firm grip; his hands were callused from years of swinging his weapon of choice about. The dual blader counted down in a clear voice: "Three. Two. One. Go!"

The Wycoon thinks for a moment. "A specialty item like that. . . I don't know of anyone who would keep such a quantity of gemstone on hand like that uncut, but I can likely put in a request for it - given the proper amount of coin, of course. Hmm. . ." The Wycoon thinks for a moment. "Given that it wouldn't require any working, I believe I can get it to you for a fee of 1200 zenny. It would take a few days, however, but I can hold it indefinitely." Andre doesn't have to wait long; the Hunter with the massive blade has the dual wielder on the floor in moments, already doing his victory flex. Much like his predecessor, he completes the ritual of helping the other hunter up and turning that into a handshake. He looks about, and his eyes settle on Andre. "You there, I haven't seen you around Val Habar before. Care to join me for a moment?" He sets his elbow on the table, hand up expectantly. The drider seemed very. . . casual about devouring humans. There was something missing from the conversation, something odd about how she "spoke" to her over the bond beyond the hodgepodge of voices she used to communicate. "I was wondering. . . Well, first, you never told me your name. Second, the way you speak to me telepathically is, to be blunt, extremely strange. May I ask why you communicate the way you do?"

Mitsu explores the area she finds herself in.

Mitsurugi, after observing the patterns of the movement of the orbs and such in the central room, decides to test her agility; weaving through these obstacles should be nothing to someone who can fly and has spent much time sword fighting and dodging danmaku.

"I hope you're not, um, taking me." Fire and ice, good to keep in mind if she turned hostile. Not that she was a great elementalist, but a balor would probably do the trick here. . . But that was later, and hopefully never; she found this drider intriguring and sincerely hoped it wouldn't come to a fight. "I'm pretty sure the others on your vessel stopped on other worlds. Off to go on adventures and such, get some treasure, bop some baddies, that kind of thing." After a few intense moments, the one with the dual blades gets the upper hand - literally. A wobble, and then a slam later, and the one with the shield is picking himself up from the floor and laughing; his opponent takes a moment to flex and pose, and then helps him up. They thank one another for the good contest, and then the one with the dual blades calls out a challenge. Before Andre could act, another Hunter in a regal-looking set of armor, complete with a scarlet cape -though oddly topped with a headband - steps up to the table. His weapon is a veritable slab of bone and metal, easily as tall as he is. The two set their arms on the table, and the loser of the last match counts down from three. . .

"Oh, that's new. . . Sorry, just getting used to the spell." Telepathy was such a pain; you quite literally couldn't keep your thoughts to yourself sometimes. . . Still, there was something far more intriguing before her: this drider, with her muteness. And the way she "spoke" over the telepathic link; there was something animalistic about, like a parrot stringing together the sounds it heard, but it was done with far too much deliberateness, and, well, her grammar was fine. If it was a basal conveyance of ideas it would have been disconnected, it would have been sensory impressions, images, sounds, not a coherent sentence. . . "Alright. I'm Marisa; you'd call me a mage or an arcanist. Or a warlock, but that's technically incorrect. I brought us here using that bizarre castle; there was a hunt that needed to be done here and those two lumps of protein seemed to be the type to get it taken care of." Andre notes a fair number of hunters dressed in a colorful array of hunting clothing and armor. Some of the outfits seemed to be made entirely from one monster, and some seemed to be elegant combinations of a few. Others. . . well, they came from multiple monsters, but one might have surmised that the combinations of colors were intended to assist hunts by causing nausea in a monster viewing the wearer. Currently, a hunter wearing a brilliant blue-and-yellow suit of scaly plate armor with a pair of matching blades on his hips was contending hotly with another one wearing a dark green set festooned with teeth; this one had a shield strapped to their right arm and a medium-length sword on the same hip.

Hoshiko, shockingly, stayed quiet. The King. . . ! A foul arbiter of injustice and tyranny, placed right before her! Rather, THE arbiter of such! Their greatest foe, the one that marshaled the legions of evil against them - or was he? There was that strange creature, the dragon-thing, and those horrible monsters. . . Was this an opportunity placed before her, to strike down evil. . . or a test? A test to see if she could see the true evil. Her consternation was visible on her face.

"Well, it weighs pretty damn fancy too. Swear it's actually made outta gold or lead or somethin'. At the price it's pro'ly lead, but the guy said it was cursed too. It's not awkward heavy though, it should make a pretty good pokin' stick."

The Wycoon leans forward, greeting Mar with a friendly voice. "Well, hello there, Hunter. What brings you to my stall today? Looking to trade monster parts, or buy materials in bulk?" Andre might note that, in the guild hall, there's a table that hunters not currently occupied with a quest enjoy arm wrestling on. And for "table," the meaning is more "iron-reinforced log wider than a man." Marisa stepped further into the shadows with the spider - she had an aversion to light, despite not being visibly drow-kin? Interesting. Or did she just not want to be seen? - and reached one arm out. She started to intone a chant, and her other hand began to make motions as if she were weaving something, or perhaps trying a knot. After about ten seconds of this, she lightly placed her fingers on Aurora's arm. "Sorry this took so long, this kind of spell isn't exactly my specialty. Can you hear me properly?"

Thanks. Today is probably not gonna be super great since I have a long car ride ahead, but I appreciate all the well-wishes, and the rest of it is gonna be nice.

"I see." So she'd been rendered mute somehow. An actual physical mutilation, or was the gesture just trying to convey the general idea? For that matter, who would have been capable of doing so that wouldn't have outright killed the drider? They weren't particularly well-loved outside of drow circles, having a nasty habit of hunting and eating sentients, and this one probably wasn't entirely welcome even among them. However, they were still terrifyingly powerful and cunning opponents, which meant whoever was responsible was likely not only equally so, but had a cruel streak to boot. . . "Do you mind if I touch you? I have a spell that could allow us to speak telepathically, and it's much easier to cast it if I can physically contact the person I'm forming the telepathic bond with."

The blacksmith collects Andre's materials after he presumably presents them for inspection and usage. He then turns back to Mar: "Deep blue spinel? I am not certain; you may want to check with the Wycoon for that one as well. His specialty is trades in raw monster parts, but I believe he may know something about gemstones." He gestures toward the cart that he'd previously directed Andre to. "In the meantime, I will begin work on your requests. I will accept pay when I'm finished; it should not take long." True to his word, he sets about his forge, ensuring everything is heated up properly, tools are prepared for use, miscellaneous pieces pulled out of wherever they may be stashed, that sort of thing. Marisa watches the leg carefully. Understanding quickly dawned in her eyes. "So you're with the rest of these people, then? I wouldn't have expected it, but then again, things like 'expectations' aren't really applicable to something like your group." She frowns for a moment. The drider's upper half appeared human - maybe drider was the wrong term, but it was the best she had - which meant that she should be able to speak, or at least vocalize. "Can you talk?"

"Couple reasons. First one was to add a little muscle to the party, and a little intimidation factor. People see Ecquis in battle or her him roar - he doesn't do it much, by the way, I had to train 'im to do it and he still won't unless I sneak him a bit of bacon or somethin' - and they damn near piss themselves out of fear, especially if I'm up in there jabbin' em with my lance. Plus I was supposed ta' make sure the guards got ta' where they were going all right, and, well, they didn't. Sent a little carrier pigeon with me and everything, though he's gone now, of course. As fir why we headed out there in the first place, there was s'posed ta' be some trouble going on or something, ask Madante for the whole story."

Andre gets a set of Lavasioth parts that should be enough to get him a neat weapon or part of a suit of armor. The Wycoon makes a note of the trade in his book, and thanks Andre for his business. "I see. Your native land sounds intriguing, Hunter." He draws another picture for Mar. "Both the blade and the blunt end of the weapon can be used to deliver blows. Traditionally, the blunt end also contains a device to apply pheromones that one's Kinsect can use as a guide to your commands - the style of fighting with both blade and bug, I'm told, is quite old, and there is a breeder in town that can supply you with one. Does this sound acceptable?" Marisa slowly picked up the package that the mysterious drider had tossed her. It was. . . jerky? She sniffed it, and cast a small divination on it just to be sure - it seemed to be, well, just regular jerky. There was the small possibility it was bait, to lull her into a sense of security so that she could be taken as prey safely out of sight, but the curiosity about the strange individual was overwhelming. She cautiously walked toward the alleyway where the spider lurked, with a hesitant "Hello?"

"'S all in the ridin'. Wyverns act a lot more independently than horses - someone told me once that it's 'cause they're predators. So fighting drunk is nothin' compared to fighting in midair with something with a mind of it's own also fighting right underneath you. Besides, I wouldn't be much of a royal guard if I couldn't fight regardless of how messed up I am. I could probably take you for a flight sometime, actually, though not right now." She reached up to a spot just behind the wyvern's skull; the motion she made looked more like she was trying to scrub a wall, and the hand she used was still gauntleted, but Ecquis reacted much the same way a dog would react to having his ear scratched. "We had to push pretty hard ta get here on time, so I'm tryin' to let him relax a bit. He doesn't like to fight as much as I do."

The Wycoon looks at the parts for a moment, then squints into a thick ledger for a few moments, flipping the parchment back and forth a bit. Finally, he provides an answer: "The main buyer for Tigrex parts of this quality is offering Lavasioth scales and teeth in return at the moment. Does that sound like a good deal to you?" The blacksmith thinks for a moment. "Most Hunters come by for weapons and armor, though there are armors that are said to increase the mobility of the wearer. Jumping Jewels and Nargacuga armors are particularly known for this, though you would need to speak to the Wycoon in order to obtain the parts for the latter; that beast isn't commonly seen in the region. I could attempt to make a glider for you, though I am not sure what kind of board you mean; though may I recommend an Insect Glaive to you? I have seen many a Hunter use one to vault onto the back of a fighting monster."

"Huh? Yeah, it's Myrdwyn, and the hangover's gone. Was thinkin' about grabbing something else to drink, actually, but I dunno what Madante thinks a'that." She frowned at the woman. "Oh, and, sorry for taking a swing or three at ya earlier. Truth be told I don't remember why I was so upset, but hey, friendships have started over worse! Like that one story about the two soldiers that became friends after one of 'em nearly took the other's head off with an axe."

Myrdwyn gathered up her lances, noting Karik and the commander's appearance and subsequent disappearance. The kid seemed to think she was his age, which was annoying to say the least. . . what was a kid doing along with the royal guards, anyway? Didn't seem like a good place to put him, even if he could hold his own in a fight. She shrugged to herself as she walked out of the shop and to her wyvern. She'd just have to make sure he didn't get hurt in a fight or something, maybe ask Madante where his parents were. . . It took her a few moments to get the lances arranged on her wyvern's saddle as desired. It wasn't enough to just get them secure; they had to sit in such a way that takeoffs and landings wouldn't result in them falling off, but they could still be drawn and set at a moment's notice. It was especially difficult with the demonic-looking lance; the thing was damn heavy, and Ecquis didn't seem to like it.

"Killing themselves? I'm too good for that." She dug 800 Vespers out of a pocket. "I'll take it and the iron lance, too." She wondered a bit about what the man said. Did people really manage to stab themselves with these? Sounded amateurish to her, but. . . Bah, whatever. A weapon was a weapon.

Myrdwyn looked over the wares. A few of the weapons looked interesting, but she noted one discrepancy. . . "Hey, you've got an axe and a sword with all sorts of fancy artwork and stuff on 'em, what about a lance?" The weapons themselves, unlike most heavily decorated weapons, seemed hefty and powerful at their cores, though something about them was offputting. . . Though that feeling might have also been echoes of a hangover. Or the fact that she'd been stuck on a boat for days and hadn't been able to do much of anything other than pet and/or yell at Ecquis. Or that suspicious meat she'd eaten. . .

Myrdwyn shrugged before following after Belros, her wyvern following at his own pace. "May as well come with and get myself another fancy sharpened piece of metal, too. Except mine'r' on sticks, so they're better." She elbowed Cade a bit as she walked up. "Ones I've got now are good for their own stuff, but I need a general use pokin' stick, too."