Pink Poogle Toy Forum

((Right, I appear to have written myself into a hole. Er, I'll edit this post shortly (within the next 24 hours) with actual RPing, as soon as I figure out what to write.))

((Thanks, Lillie. I didn't really want to make a whole post just going back to get the food, heh.))

Kenzirin curtsied slightly. "Thank you, Miran. I would be glad to find my parents for you."

She turned and walked away, passing the labour workers as she did so. As she registered the message they were conveying, she frowned and quickened her pace. What were they speaking about?

As she reached the door to her parents' room, she knocked and then entered. Her parents were engaged in a conversation, but as soon as she came in their voices paused and they looked at her, smiling. It didn't hide the worry in their faces, however.

"Something's wrong," Kenzirin thought. "I wonder what it is. Is it... the same thing that's bothering the workers? And, maybe Miran?"

She breathed out lightly, then addressed her parents. "Mother, Father. Miran wishes to meet with you -- she's sitting at a table in the dining area. Could you go see her, please...?" She paused, suddenly flustered for a reason she did not know.

"Certainly, Kenzi dearest," her father said. She stepped away from the door and watched as her parents left the room, a small frown beginning to grow on her face.

[No problem. And Alex, write anything you like. Be as outrageous as possible. That would be fab.]

'Ah, my dear friends.' Miran smiled at Kenzi's parents as they approached her. 'I just wanted to congratulate you on producing such a delicious meal, as always, ma'am. It's a pleasure for me to eat here, though,' she sighed, 'as we all know, it's not an opportunity any of us will be able to enjoy for much longer.' She looked at Kenzi's mother to see her reaction. Rumour had it that rents were going up. Was The Crowned Coral going to be affected?

'And my good sir,' she turned to Kenzi's father sternly. 'You have not been coming to see me lately. Is it so difficult to get away? You must really take care of your health, you know, especially if I am not around to oversee it. My medicines are only as effective as your willingness to live a healthy life is.'

((Could someone address me? I can't do anything now other than "Where's the person to get my order" right now. thanks))

Name: Krzysztof "Krys" Kieślowski
Age: 17
Gender: M
Appearance: Rather thin for his age, caused by a lack of regular meals and the rough life he's lived for the past few years. Close cut brown hair, blue eyes. An old violin is his only possession, which he wears on a strap on his shoulder. Slightly tall, but not eight feet.
Personality: Seems to always be the last to know about current events, carefree in his younger days, now more prone to worrying about food and shelter. Loyal to those he's friends with, but indifferent to people he's not. Can be clumsy, has a good memory. Likes to start converstions with strangers, and tends to travel alone a lot.
Occupation: At age five he was proclaimed a violin prodigy, which gained him a bit of popularity. After his father and uncle's arrest, his career went down the drain. Worked brief stints as a fireman and barley farmer. Currently unemployed.
Other: When he was seven his uncle Erik and father Frederick were accused of high treason against the king, and were hanged fairly quickly. Afterwards the fame he had acquired from his musical career vanished. Lived with his grandfather until 14, when he passed away. His mother died on giving birth. He has not played the violin since he was notified about his father's arrest, which was after a show at a prestigious hall at age 7. Nearsighted, his glasses broke several years ago.

---

The nasty sun had done a good job of waking him up, shining pretty rudely into his eyes. Krys stretched lazily on his bed, glad to have a bed to wake up on, crates can be uncomfortable. He had rented the room for three days, using the money he had left from his job at the farm. He wouldn't let himself worry about what he'd do after that.

It took a while, but the boy finally stood up, changing clothes and walking slowly to the door. Still barefoot, he carefully walked across the wood floor, he really really hated splinters.

He couldn't help but overhear what sounded like angry workers below, but wasn't too interested in what they were saying.

Krys raised a hand to rub his eye, he wasn't a morning person. Near-sighted and distracted by this complicated process, he promptly fell down the stairs with a large crash.

Kenzirin sighed softly, glancing around her parents' room. Her gaze landed on a door on the opposite wall -- slightly open. That was her room... had someone been in it? Perhaps she had simply forgot to close the door all the way...

Cautiously, she walked over to her room and peered inside. Nothing seemed amiss, but she entered anyways, wanting to make sure everything was where she had put it. A quick search revealed that everything was where she had put it. She nodded slightly to herself, and the chided herself for forgetting the shut the door tightly.

Deciding to go back to the common room, she walked out of the rooms and into the hallway. As she passed the stairs, she heard a strange noise, and she looked up, startled. She saw the boy falling down the stairs and leaped out of the way just in time to prevent herself from getting knocked over.

"Oh! Oh my! Are you alright?" she asked as soon as what had just happened processed. She held out her hand to help the boy up, a worried look on her face.

[Twizz, could you Kenzi's parents to have a conversation with Miran, please?]

The Crowned Coral was unusually busy today. Wave after wave of people were coming in to have a drink and talk about their troubles. It all seemed to be the same. Snippets of conversation drifted around the inn:

'First it was the housing tax, and o' course we couldnae deny His Royal Majesty that,' said one woman. 'What 'ave we got if we dannae have a house, eh? That ain't so bad, but then there be more taxes on all the groceries we buy and sell - can't hardly make a living these days...'

'Ach, yes, an' now we be payin' for our children to learn readin' an' writin',' another woman commismerated. 'Used to be a time when all learnin' was for free. Seems like there be nothin' free these days, not since that Head Mage be changed - '

'Yer'd think the Head Mage would conjure up some money if he be that powerful,' a man snorted to his friend. 'Says he's better'n old Rolanth at that magicking thing when that good sir was still alive, but Rolanth was worth a dozen of him in terms of being good to us people. Letting us go about our business without all this interferin'.'

One of the workers who had come in earlier sat himself down near Briar. 'Ridiculous how the king be raisin' the taxes for everythin'. What can he want with so much money, eh? Starvin' his people while he rolls around in gold.' He turned towards the stranger, clearly infuriated with the situation. 'So you here to drown yer sorrows in drink too, yea? What's yer story?'

((thank you thank you thank you))

Is THAT what's going on arround here? The king is just raising taxes a bunch. Hmm...
"I'm a wanderer, I'm just here to see what the ruckus is all about. I assume your king is preparing for a war with someone if he's causing all this trouble. Name's Briar Rakion. What's your name neighbor?" Briar started drumming his fingers on the table, waiting for the waiter.

Krys groaned, opening one eye to glance up at the girl. "Yeah, I'll be fine." he muttered. He gently raised a hand to rub his head, bringing back a little blood. A massive knot had already begun to form.

He took her hand and slowly got to his feet, glancing around to make sure not too many people were paying attention. He straightened out his clothes a bit, then started making for the door. Remembering Kenzirin, he whirled around and said, "Sorry about the disturbance or whatever, I'll just be on my way.."

((Certainly, Lillie.))

Kenzirin's mother smiled broadly. "Thank you, Miran. I'm glad to know that you enjoyed it," she said. Then a frown came to her face and she glanced over at her husband.

"Yes, it has been awhile since I have come in... my apologies. I'll try to come in as soon as possible, Miran, but... it's been hectic around the Inn lately," Kenzirin's father said. He glanced at the stranger before continuing, and then at the workers. "Listen to them. Taxes have been raised on everything... including our Inn. We've been working as hard as we can lately, to earn enough to pay for the extra tax and take care of Kenzi. She's growing up so quickly, my girl is... I'm worried about what she'll think if she knew we may lose the Inn."

---------
Kenzirin would have let the boy go, if she had not seen the blood that was on his fingers. Not much, to be sure, but enough to make her even more worried than she already was.

She stepped in front of the boy, blocking his way out. She focused her green eyes on him, bringing her hands up to her hips as she studied him.

"No, you're not alright... you're bleeding, and I think I see a bruise beginning to form. I think you need to get it looked at... you hit the wall pretty hard and I'm worried you may have been hurt more than that. There's a healer in the Inn currently -- I'm sure she won't mind making sure you will be fine."

[You're welcome. Thank you, Twizz.]

'Thomas is the name,' the worker said, and offered his hand. 'I know nothin' 'bout a war an' even less 'bout what we'll do if there be one. For the sake o' me kids at home, I hope there ain't goin' to be one.' He shook his head emphatically.

'But I ain't heard anythin' 'bout worsenin' relations with them other kingdoms so we can keep our 'opes up. 'Course, I don' keep too much up-to-date with these things. Too busy with me own worries. Not only are those taxes goin' up, but now our pays are goin' down. I don't know how we'll be able to pay all 'em taxes an' feed ourselves at the same time.' He stared gloomily at his drink. Then he brightened up.

'So, what's it like bein' a wanderer? No them nasty taxes to pay, eh?' He laughed uproariously. 'But I don't know nothin' 'bout how you get food and all those other vittles if you don't get any pay neither.'

---

Miran smiled grimly at Kenzi's parents. 'You're not the only one,' she said. She put her face in her hands and took a deep breath. 'At the rate this is going, I'm losing my practice. They've raised the license to six hundred gold coins a year. I'll never be able to earn enough money to keep it running in the long-term even if I raise my fees, and if I raise my fees no one will come to me. What are we to do?'

She waved a hand at the workers and the other customers. 'What are any of us to do?' she said softly.

Esthemazaar looked down at everyone that was crowding into the inn. He put his gigantic hands over his ears and gathered his money together. He placed it back in his robe and rocked back and forth, trying to shut out all of the sounds of the room. Everyone seemed to be ignoring him, so he stood up abruptly, slamming his hands on the table. He walked quickly out of the suddenly silent inn, looking at no one. He hit the road and turned left, making a beeline for his hideaway. He stopped short on the road, because he was suddenly confused about what he should be doing. He stood motionless in the middle of the road, looking out with a level gaze.

Krys glanced at the girl for a moment, as if pondering something, but then began to nod. "A healer, huh?" he said, rubbing his poor head slowly. It really would be nice to get this taken care of, it really hurt. "Yeah, but just for a second." he said stubbornly, glancing around and trying to guess which one the healer was. "What's your name, by the way?" he asked, curious.

[Alex, write the most ridiculous, outrageous thing in the world and we'll make it work. ]

'Ah.' Miran looked after the tall stranger somewhat regretfully. She had not forgotten him, but he had certainly be tucked in a corner of her mind. 'Perhaps I should not have let him go,' she muttered ruefully to herself.

Just as she was wondering whether she should go after him or not, she saw Kenzi approach with a boy she did not really know. He was rubbing his head. 'Do you need some help?' she said, almost dryly. Then she smiled, to soften the words. Running her fingers over her pouches, she selected one and undid the drawstring. 'A little water and a bowl, please, Kenzi. A spoon would also be a big help.'

---

The hooded figure next to Briar chuckled. A hand set down the clear glass of mead with a clunk. 'Names are not as important as you may believe,' the figure said in a surprisingly bright and clear voice. That long, white beard seemed out of place with this young voice. 'But perhaps you will come to know of it soon... Yes, perhaps you will come to know of it. In the meantime, however, I am just a lowly wanderer, nothing more. If you will excuse me, I have some business to attend to.'

He turned away and left the inn.

---

The town was remarkably still for the time of the day. Every inn was bursting full of people who had gone for a drink and a complaint.

The door of The Crowned Coral clinked shut. The same hooded figure with the flowing white beard came out and stood beside Esthemazaar, leaning heavily on his staff. He gazed at the same spot that Esthemazaar was looking at.

'What are you going to do?' the hooded figure said nonchalently.

Esthemazaar looked in the direction of the hooded figure, not truly noticing anything about the character. He shrugged a shoulder and started walking slowly away from the inn, away from his hideaway, and toward the edge of town and his personal training grounds. He set his jaw and closed his eyes, knowing the distance in his mind. He sighed to himself, still unsure of what to do. He pushed the hooded figure to the edge of his mind, sure that the character would not follow him. None ever did.