The unkown man who sat in a corner of the bar a few nights ago walks in the door and heads for the front bar instead of the table where he last sat. Upon sitting on a stool with his back to neither the doors nor patrons, the bartender throws the man a curious look.
"My usual please," the unkown man says.
"Lad, ye haven't finished one yet," the bartender replies.
"And?" replies the unknown man with a quizical look.
"Well yer average folk 'ill toss a few back."
"What makes you think I'm average?"
"'Ell wit' all this curious 'alk lately it ain't too good to not be average," the bartender answers in a hushed voice. Surprsingly enough, there is some grumbling from the back of the inn, surely as a result of this comment.
"Are you saying I've a reason to worry?" the unkown man answers as getting up to head for his table with ale in hand.
"Aye, they say Blackthorne is back," replies the bartender.
"Blackthorne you say, who's that?"
"Ye don't kno who Blackthorne is?" the bartender nearly screams as a result of his shock.
"No, tell me of him please."
*The bartender repeats the stories he's heard the past few days. The only reply he receives at the end of each story is a curt nod from his patron.*
"So can I fill ye up? Err, wait, yer full."
"Thanks for the warning," the unkown man says tossing a couple of gold coins onto the bar.
"'Scuse me lad, can I get yer name?"
"Atreides."
"Tha's all? Just Atreides?"
"For now," Atreides answers.
"Thanks," says the bartender with a nod of his head while picking up the gold coins and stuffing them into his pocket. As the man now known as Atreides heads to his table, a large sized man stands up suddenly, blocking Atreides' path to his table.
"Excuse me Sir," Atreides politely says.
"We don't like your kind here!" the large man says as his buddies stand up, and beside him with menacing looks on their faces.
"My kind?"
"Yea, you royal brats," the large man says followed by nods from his colleagues.
"I'm afraid you have me mistaken for someone else," Atreides says. With this he tries to head for his table, but he is again blocked by the three large men.
With a small sigh, Atreides puts his mug down on the table of these men.
"Whoa buddy, what do ye think yer doing?" the man to the left, of the first one who confronted Atreides, says.
"If you are looking to start a quarrel with me, I'd prefer not to spill my ale," Atreides says with an edge.
"You'll spill more then yer ale!" cries the first man as he draws a long thin dagger from the folds of his cloak and takes a step towards Atreides. Atreides can smell the poison of the man's dagger and draws his own sword faster then his opponent drew his dagger. Whilst drawing his sword, Atreides enters into a defensive stance with one foot planted fimrly beside the other and his left side slightly angled towards the three large men. At this surpisingly quick gesture, the other two large men clumsily draw their own daggers and also advance upon Atreides, while attempting to mock his stance. 'Well that's a poor attempt at my stance,' Atreides thinks, laughing to himself.
"Well that's not good," Atreides says to the two other men.
"What?" they reply together.
"Your feet are all wrong!" Atreides answers.
"Well how are they-"
"Fools, he's distracting you! Laugh at us huh? Let's have a go then!" the large man cries with a look of glea on his face. Suddenly a bright fireball flies at Atreides who just narrowly dodges it. 'Four against one; three warriors and one "magi" as they are called,' Atreides quickly thinks to himself.
"Well I can't allow this," the bartender says as he chants 'Uus Sanct'. Upon hearing these words, Atreides feels a higher sense of awareness, even higher then that which he is accustomed to as a result of his trainings. 'What is this?' Atreides thinks to himself while keeping a cautious eye on the sword of the supposed leader of the three large men. Atreides hears the bartender chant 'An Ex Por'. Atreides takes a quick glance at the man who threw the ball of fire and sees him frozen, unable to move, or speak. 'Well that makes things a lot better,' Atreides thinks. The bartender begins to chant another incantation 'An Ex-"
"Hold!" cries Atreides.
"Lad ye won't beat them three on one," the bartender answers.
"We'll see," Atreides says with such confidence it cause his opponents to pause for just a second. Atreides notices this and with a flurry of his sword, disarms the three men and stashes the daggers in his cloak, extra care payed to the poisoned one.
"Can I go to my table now?" Atreides asks while he lowers his sword to his side.
"You may have bested us tonight, but it won't happen again! You just got a price placed on your head lad," the leader says as he storms out of the bar, signaling to his mates to follow him. Atreides stashes his sword in the folds of his cloak, picks up his ale and heads for his table with a calmness as if he never heard the leader's threat.
"Lad, I think I best get you out of here, those smugglers will be back soon enough looking for you," the bartender cautions.
"Can it wait? I haven't finished my ale yet," Atreides answers.
"You weren't going to anyways," the bartender says with a smirk. The bartender grabs Atreides arm and chants 'Kal Ort Por'. Atreides and the bartender are surrounded by darkness and not even a second later, Atreides finds himself in the town of Vesper.
"I have to head back lad, you'll be in good hands here. Nice move back there by the way" the bartender says as making his exit with another chant; 'Kal Ort Por'.
"Thanks for your help Sir," Atreides answers to nobody.
Back at the bar, three clouds of smoke appear. Once they disappear three men armed with the finest gear in Britania are suddenly standing in the middle of the bar.
"It's ok gentlemen, everything's fine here," the bartender lies to the guards. With this the three guards disappear in clouds of smoke much like the ones they appeared out of.
Back in Vesper, Atreides looks around once more to get his bearings and then starts heading west, towards Britania. 'Hmm, 6 days here and I've a price on my head because someone thinks I'm royalty...' is the last thought on Atreides' mind as he puts his head down on a pillow at the local Britania inn.
[/ooc]