Closed Dead Before Bowed

[Senghor Vilhjalmr]

50th of Winter 513 His eyes narrowed as they observed everyone there, their scents each individually stuffing his 'home', his domain with foreign sounds. A frown play ever so gracefully upon his lips, his features hardened and his jaw clenched as he bit upon his teeth in thought. He'd contemplated on this moment for so long now, his eyes shifted towards his friend, his comrade, Noven and back to the seated group, the table luckily wide enough to seat all of them. It was than that he inclined his head towards Eleazar, always conflicted, confused and frightened... It took a chime or so until there was absolute and utter silence within the suffocating indoors of his cottage, yet it was quickly killed off by the deafening creak of his weight upon the his wooden chair when he sighed a conflicted breath. Slowly his lips parted, words left from the infinite space of his mind as he made sure he was heard, clearly and well enough for them to understand. "I gathered you all here today for a reason, each one of you was either once my comrade, and may still be..." he said slowly, as if each word was sacred, ancient and old. "My father once told me that a comrade is a brother, that as soon as he or she spills their blood in my name, or I do the same than we are bound by blood!" he said with a roaring tone before his bare knuckles connected with wood of the table, it seemed to quiver under the impact as the dark skinned warrior stood up from his seat and leaned forward. A smirk seemed to play upon his devious lips when he turned his head and looked at their reactions. "So that means that each and everyone of you bastards here, from Sunberth or otherwise are like family..." "Indeed, you may all detest each others guts to the highest degree yet in my eyes everyone of you have done something that every soul out this shitty house lacks..." "When Sunberth devoured you, and spat you out you all decided to kick its fuckin' teeth in and show it that it can go petch itself..." A smile seemed to creep up onto his stoic features for a moment before he spoke once again, his tone shifted slightly when he looked deeply into the eyes of the people there. His next words would soon decide the fate of each an everyone there, a truly standard setting moment. "An because of that, I bring you here because I have a proposal..."

[Noven]

The dark haired, surly eyed cook leaned against his chair at a precarious angle, watching as various familiar faces took seats around the table one by one. He had an inkling of an idea what his friend was up to, but not a drop more. Whatever Seng had in store for them, he was, for once, rather at a loss over. Ah, well, it was bound to be interesting one way or the other.

Once everyone was settled, each presence added to the group changed the atmosphere just a little, like spices to an elaborate dish. Well, maybe not something quite so eloquent, Nov thought to himself. They were Sunberthians, after all.

The Vilhjalmr shifted his gaze to meet Noven's, to which the cook responded with a single, quirked eyebrow. What are you up to old friend? It seemed to suggest. After a few more stops along the way, Seng's gaze settled and the mercenary adjusted his weight on the wooden chair, its creaks and groans audible over the rapidly dimming clammer of people making themselves comfortable. Once things had quieted down, he spoke.

And so the meeting officially began.

Nov held onto his cool when Seng's voice suddenly roared to life, his fist pounding against the table to emphasize his fervor. Then the merc stood from his chair and towered over them, a smirk playing across his dark features as he deemed each and every one of them family.

The cook grinned at his friend's words of camaraderie, and at his vividly apt description of how their fair city built in each and every one of them a backbone tougher than the strongest of Isurian metals. When Seng's eyes met his, Nov returned the stare intensity for intensity. A proposal...the rebuilding of the estate, the reluctant jobs for the Hound, their drunken, midnight chats at the Foot, this meeting...

Something close to an answer to all of this shrouded mystery was beginning to form in Nov's head, but he preferred to hear it straight from their host.

Nov let his chair fall back on its front two legs and placed both arms on the table, folding his hands at the center. "I'm all ears, brother."

[Garret Sawyer]

Garret leant back against the wall, choosing not even to sit down or stand next to the table, instead keeping his distance between himself and the main group, though it wouldn't surprise him to find a few of the stragglers and outcasts following his lead and staying back. He had taken to arriving un-armoured, but refused outright to arrive unarmed, instead equipping himself with his trusty weapon. His eyes scanned the faces around the room, Senghor that's obvious he thought pausing to note Noven's appearance, but only a couple of faces tugged at his memory but that didn't surprise him, Sunberth was packed to the rafters with thieves are far too many of these people looked like thieves instead of mercenaries, causing Garret to doubt whatever reason was for his appearance here.

Then the speech began, and Garret didn't begin to feel any better. Perhaps these rousing words would work on a more steadfast and faithful man, but the only words to grace his ears sounded to him like empty promises and pointless stirring speeches, frowning heavily with each new word spoken. He didn't like being summoned like a lapdog without being paid to do so, only to find to a man more interested in the sound of his own voice then business. Aye he didn't like Senghor, that didn't help, Garret saw the dirty looks and heard the distasteful tone, he thought Garret was a thug and beast, yet Senghor had yet to experience Garret's years and still possessed the foolish notion of honour and morals.

"I'm all ears, brother."

Garret was too, folding his arms expectantly as he frowned at the mercenary "I am too, why should I give a rat's shit stained arse with all this crap about brothers-in-arms and camaraderie when given the chance anyone of you here would stab me the back for the sake of a few Mizas?" He asked truthfully before falling back into silence, he had said his piece and that was enough.

[Arlana]

Even now, as she sat listening the dark-skinned man, Arlana still wasn't what she was doing here. It was a waste of her precious resting time and as if to prove the point, she had to stifle back a yawn. If it wasn't for Noven, she probably wouldn't be here in the first place. The thief let her blue eyes wondered about the room, both in an effort to keep awake and pay a close eye on the strangers stuffed in the apartment with her. None of them seemed the friendly type - then again, neither did most people in Sunberth. Coincidentally, she could recognize most of them in her memories - though not all of them pleasant.

When she heard Noven spoke up, Arlana couldn't resist throwing a dirty look at him, mentally asking him what the hell was this all about. She prayed that she was not here just to make friends. Of course, it wouldn't hurt to have some allies, but right now, she wasn't too excited about it. The last time she truly made friends didn't end well for both parties. Even now she could still feel the pang in her chest.

Arlana barely comprehended the speech, but it was clear that some sort of friendship was expected from them. Fat chance. As the nasty brute who had almost gotten her killed said, no one in Sunberth was loyal enough to die for someone else. Including her.

Decidedly, the thief kept silent, leaning back on her seat while holding back a sharp comment.

OOCSorry it's short >.<

[Serta]

Serta leant back in her chair contentedly, arms crossed over her chest and her feet tapping the floor in an slow rhythm. She took a moment to study the people around her, pausing in those she recognised. All of three faces.

She busied herself with twisting her hair up at the back of her neck, pushing a few pins in to hold it. The change softened her features, made her look far less wild as she gazed around, eyes as intense as ever. If she was being honest the main reason she was even here was because she was hoping for some free food, after all, she had caught the guys a deer upon their very first meeting. She hadn't had a chance to eat so far in the day and the growling of her stomach was starting to become distracting.

She raised a brow in interest as Seng spoke, her interests picking up. Some allies are always welcome. She thought with a small grin, glancing around at the unfamiliar faces once again. Though I wouldn't go as far as to shed any blood for these strangers, a helping hand could be valuable.

She watched carefully as Noven joined Seng on his feet, still unsure of what was actually going on. She itched to tell the men to hurry up and spit their purpose out so they could get to the meat of the matter but restrained herself, a brow arched questioningly instead.

She couldn't help but shoot a sour look at Garret as the older man put his opinion forward. "Come now Sunshine, give the man a tick to explain himself before you get all up in arms." She snipped, sending him a smirk. I think I like Sunshine as a nickname. Se decided. Very fitting.

[Eleazar Victor Syroin]

Today had been one of those long tiresome days for Eleazar. Slouching in his chair at the table arms curled around Eleanor's non existent frame, the teen was struggling to stay awake. His mind to be attached to a metaphoric spring, one that would haul him back into the real world each time he dipped his head to sleep. Having been one of the first to arrive, the thief had done nothing but sit silently in the corner as the room had filled up. He had no idea why Senghor had called him here, nor did he care at the moment. Growing restless in his hold his hallucination of a sister, sat pouting in silence. It hadn't been a surprise when she had woken him up that morning, it was rare not to see her at least once a fortnight in these times. What had shocked the thief is that she had been fairly well behaved all day. There had been no threats or insults thrown his way, only the insensate chattering of the imagined eleven year old. Through a little bit of bribery, the girl had agreed to remain silent during the meeting or at least not comment on everything. Tired, worried eyes scanned the faces briefly before the thief began to nod off again. A few people present he knew such as Senghor and Noven. Also the old green eyed man that had slammed a spiked club into his face, hadn't expected him to be here. Hopefully the grumpy foreigner wouldn't recognise his face. Some others seemed familiar but he couldn't place his finger on where he knew them from. Oh well. Finally having reached her limit, all of half a dozen blissful chimes, Eleanor turned her head up wards to face Eleazar. Pouted pink lips on a pale face framed by his mother curly hair, she looked woefully up at her 'big brother'. 'I'm boooored. Can't we jist go build a snowman, 'ere's plenty of snow ootside. Come on Elzy, 'is is booooorin'! Let's go 'n' play!' No one else could hear her moaning, her very existence being a figment of the teen's broken mind, so her cries were ignored by the rest of the room. Slowly shaking his head down at her, the thief's chance to reply was taken away by Senghor sitting down next to him and addressing the room. As the man spoke, Eleazar's face went from confusion to hope. What had been said sounded like it was going a route that the teen would most definitely benefit from. Even Eleanor seemed to have stop grumbling a looked awestruck. His head whipped around as Noven let out a firm, 'I'm all ears, brother.' from his place at the table. This was swiftly followed by the grumblings of the Morning star wielder. Without even think about it both of the siblings, real and imaginary, sarcastically muttered out in unison, “Apologises old man, Not ev'yb'dy around 'ere goes aboot doin' each other in o'er eh couple o' old coins. Unlike ya some o' us even 'ave morals.” Pulling his pale eyes away from the table, the thief nodded at Senghor, facial expression blank. This time a little louder, he spoke calmly. “Em list'nin'.”

[Senghor Vilhjalmr]

Seng's eased smirk never left his lips, he'd grasped everyone's attention in the room, that grumpy bastard's yet he could see it in their eyes, uncertainty, mistrust and unease around one another. "I've wondered that myself 'Sunshine', why would I give a rat's ass about someone who I don't know... But than I thought deeply on it, far too deeply on it and when I came to a conclusion. I found nearly none.." he said as he removed himself from the table and began to pace around the room, his were the only footsteps that echoed within the halls of the house. "We all want a lavished life, I once lived such a life yet it was my stupidity, my pride and rage that landed me in this decrepit hovel for a cottage... Correct me if I'm wrong but, most of you here want something that you cannot have, you want to achieve a life of fortune, of wealth, of power..." he said with a pause in both his words and step, he inclined his head back to the occupants around the room and spoke once again. "Alone, your dreams are nothing more than fantasy but together... As brethren, as one, we shed ourselves of these chains that the world has given us because in our palms we will finally have Freedom, not the ideal but true Freedom," he said with a eased tone, "Hence I propose that we stick together, yet not like these withering gangs but like a clan, a brotherhood. If we're willing to die for another, to fight and sacrifice ourselves in the name of men and women we consider our own, our family, our brothers than... Than, everything we've ever wanted, because Reality" he said as he turned back to his seat and took it. His eyes returned to narrowing whilst gazing at each and everyone there, he leaned back in his seat and rose a brow "So ladies and gentlemen, will I be calling anyone of you brethren or did I waste my time trying to get to deaf ears?"

[Noven]

Noven bent his head to afford a small, rare smile of appreciation for a card well played. Seng knew he wouldn't be able to get anyone in the room to agree to his proposal with fairytale promises of eternal friendship alone. They were Sunberthians, wildlings, and mercenaries. And not a very merry lot, at that. They were going to be persuaded with nothing short of wealth, power, and more wealth. If Seng didn't have their full attention before, he ought to have had it by now.

The cook knew that between his vengeance and Seng's hatred, there would be no Daggerhands left in the coming seasons. But two men were not enough. They had the support and leadership now of The Hound and his mysterious scars, but both knew neither could be trusted beyond matters of business. They needed people they could count on, both for loyalty and for resources. Plus, it never hurt to give back a little.

It was as profitable as it was logical. The stress was on them forming a brotherhood and not a gang for good reason. If they became another group of Daggerhands or Night eyes they would not only be eliminated before so much as making a splash, but they would also be focused too much on greed and climbing ladders. By remaining a group of close knit brethren, they could ensure both loyalty and the ability to fulfill each individual's personal needs. Certainly, the first thing that would come to most of their minds was mizas. The more the better, was everyone's usual motto. But somewhere down the road, someone was going to need a favor. Many favors, perhaps. And that was where the brotherhood would come in.

The more Nov contemplated, the more he realized how much freedom such a formation could offer. It wasn't so much freedom to do whatever one pleased
--not yet, anyhow--but it was the freedom to fulfill certain visions without having to turn to one of the gangs, to fall into their clutches and work off a lifetime's worth of debt. They would be free from limits, from hurdles that came with working solo in a dog eat dog world.

"You know you can count me in, Seng," Nov replied, lifting his head to gaze levelly at his friend.

[Garret Sawyer]

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The ridiculous and frankly childish nickname aside, this whole idea sounded ludicrous to Garret, all this talk of freedom and brotherhood's meant nothing to him, he had no dreams or ambitions, he was just a hollowed husk where a true man had once been. If he was not so blind to the rest of the world he would see this as a gift from the gods, a way to finally trust people again but to him it meant nothing, this was nothing but the ramblings of a drunk minus the alcohol which was the only decent bit.

"I don't need this lot" He thought silently to himself, tapping his fingers on the hilt of his morningstar while he returned Serta's sour look "Stupid bitch..." he muttered in an undertone so no-one could hear him, talking to himself as he so often did "How the Hai did she get invited here?" He wondered, but now was the time to spare a thought for those who weren't worth the time. The idea of gold did intrigued him though, after all with more people to work with meant more people to get stabbed besides him, perhaps it would be worth considering their offer just for the prticatly of having walking meat shields around him.

"I don't give a fuck for freedom, we life and we die, so we will never be free..." He said in strange philosophical moment "But if you can promise me gold and ale, then I'm in." He announced, regardless of the fact he would never watch their backs, but the dead don't complain and it would just mean more Mizas for him "Brotherhood my arse, they can give me their gold then they can give their lives for me if they want" He decided, as he folded his arms, his way of saying he had said all he had to.

oocIt seems rude for me to leave you all high and dry, I'll make sure I'll finish this one

[Serta]

Serta listened as Seng spoke with a blank faced patience. For once she didn't smirk or shift her attention around the room like she usually would, for once she was entirely focused and thoughtful. She liked the sound of having a group of people that she could trust, but she doubted the reality of it. She didn't know the majority of the people in the room and the ones she did know she hardly trusted, let alone knew. Humming under her breath and her brow creasing she rubbed at the back of her neck as she leant back in her chair, all the while eyeing Seng uncertainly.

Of course, there's safety in numbers... She thought, But who's to say those numbers were ever safe in the first place. Blunt nails scrapped at the skin of her neck. Frowning at the action Serta twisted her fingers in her lap instead. "I suppose..." She murmured, just loud enough to be heard. "I make no promises, but it's worth a try." She decided with a small nod.

"I can certainly see the appeal." She continued, growing more confident with her decision the more she thought about it. "I could certainly use some one to watch my back and lend a hand when needed, and I have no problem with doing the same in return."