DS Devereaux on Aug 8, 2013 wrote:

Nonsense, we won't let this end! I'll wait for the afternoon board update and then make Warwick crash back in tomorrow morning.
Speaking of, I will be gone from the 13th to the 18th this month. Highlander Fox and I have already coordinated this, and she'll be taking the majority of Warwick for that time.

Fair enough! Sorry to hear that you won't be apart of the message boards for a few days. Well hey, at least it's only a few days! lol I'm going to be at the doctor's office at four, I might not log onto the message boards for the rest of the day. I'm excited to see what happens tomorrow morning, though!

~Elizabeth, level 25 ~

Highlander Fox of ... on Aug 8, 2013 wrote:

Yea, I'm gonna be taking over Warwick for a short period of time. Hey Des - could you put in Warwick's behavior in my Pirate Personalities thread so it's easier to manage? XD I'm kind of bad at writing out new characters sometimes, but I'll manage!

There is a chance that I will be able to log on once in the later mornings that week and won't need assistance. If so, then I'll let you know as early as the 14th. Posted on the personalities thread.

-
Warwick sprinted from the woods. He, covered in feathers and goop, ran albeit his sleepy state and fresh wounds unattended to. Behind him, a nimble clockwork soldier followed, gait in perfect precision with its swinging axe. Warwick sprinted through the empty Court, sliding down the sand dune connecting the shops to the docks. He turned and leaped forwards, swinging at the clockwork.

"You need not hope, prisoner," the clockwork cooed, "For you will be defeated in a matter of minutes. Struggle will only prolong your fatigue." Fatigue was right - it had only been three minutes after Warwick had woken up that he had been ambushed by the single clockwork. Warwick pushed off of the machine, knocking it down. He sped back, only to ram into a hulking dragoon. Warwick glanced up and muttered words under his breath. Stepping away from it, he found himself surrounded again by smaller clockworks like the one he had faced before.

Just Add Bacon on Aug 10, 2013 wrote:

OOC: I didn't mention this, but I believe Lizzy went into her skiff and found another healing potion, took it, then the pain immediately went away from her broken leg. It was almost completely healed overnight, but she might have a slight limp.
~
Lizzy woke up to find herself drenched in sweat, her head slumped over the bar and her tricorn tipped at a precarious angle that signaled its falling at any given moment. She breathed in shakily and raised her head from the bar, feeling her forehead to discover that there was an indent in her flesh where she had been laying on the wood. She smiled a little, then pulled down her bandanna over it and adjusted her tricorn. She shivered from an unknown cold, even though she was sweating, and with a clash her nightmare came back into her memory. Lizzy breathed in shakily and nearly fell off the stool, but she pulled her top coat tighter over herself all the same and trudged drowsily into the morning daylight.
Only to find that she hadn't fully escaped her nightmare.
The towering dragoon that had chased her in her nightmares was standing there on the beach behind... Warwick? Lizzy rubbed her eyes and blinked hard in the blinding morning light, not entirely sure if she was awake or asleep. Then she remembered something she had read in the past about sleep, and realized that she was indeed awake. This was a living nightmare.
"Good morning, Warwick!" Lizzy said cheerfully, masking her constant nervousness and fear and instead marching right up to the clockworks. She tapped one of them on the shoulder pleasantly. "Excuse me," she said, "may I have a few words with this kind gentleman please, before you defeat him?" Her green sparkled amusingly as she teased one of the smaller armada marines, who was in fact twice her own size.
She shortly found herself thrown into Warwick in the middle of the circle.
Lizzy began trembling uncontrollably from a cold that only she felt and from a terror that pulsed through her body. In the act of throwing her into Warwick, the armada marine had taken both of her daggers and hurled them into the sky. She was weaponless.
"What an excellent way to start the morning." Lizzy spoke, her voice breaking from fear.

"That," Warwick said quietly between clenched teeth as he stood Lizzy back up, "Was a very bad idea. Skarl Orelden (OOC: a figure of myth that Warwick grew up with) save us all." Warwick hastily took off one hand of his Tiger Claws, handing it to Lizzy and paced to her back as to cover. The two stayed marvelously still, the sounds of the island waking up echoing in the background, a mere brush of wind to Warwick in comparison to the movements of the dragoon, who faced Lizzy. It loaded its cannon and took aim. Warwick realized that Lizzy wouldn't move. He roughly pushed her down, taking the cannon's blast full-force. He was pushed back into the arms of another clockwork. Warwick wriggled out and began striking at it, taking another blow from the cannon to the back. Pain flooded through him, but he withstood it with the help of experience and his armor.

"Up, up," Warwick commanded under his breath, "Get up." He continued fighting, effectively tearing down two of the five melee marines. He cleverly avoided blows to the head, his only area of weakness with the loss of his helmet. Warwick, using one hand to dismantle and the claws to break the machines, took one last unit down before he involuntarily let the pain hit him at last. Warwick stayed crouched, as if to attack again, coughing. He saw a blur, but a rush of human footsteps, meaning that Lizzy had sprung into action. Warwick stood and shakily stepped back, gauging his visual parameters and deciding what was blur and what was blindness. Hearing a creak behind him, Warwick spun again, the screech of Tiger Claws against Dragoon armor making Warwick squeeze his eyes shut. A ranged unit, unseen by Warwick - who had been thoroughly beat up by this time - bopped its gun into Warwick, pushing him back to be propped up by the Dragoon's Autocannon. Warwick closed his eyes, as if contemplating another move. His lungs began to creak through breath.

Just Add Bacon on Aug 12, 2013 wrote:

Lizzy nearly flipped out. For starters, Warwick just saved her life. Then he had handed her one of his tiger claws, a weapon she had absolutely no clue what to do with and was too heavy for her to use properly, and then Warwick seemed to get beat up, his head exposed because his helmet was unwearable... thanks to Lizzy...
"Sorry." Lizzy blushed apologetically, handing Warwick back one of his tiger claws, knowing that it would just weaken her and Warwick, Warwick because he was one weapon less and Lizzy because she couldn't even use the tiger claw. "But friends help friends, right?"
The blonde used her swashbuckler agility and danced around the circle created by the armada soldiers, taunting them and just barely evading their grasp, making them enraged and try harder to catch her. In one swift movement she used an old martial-arts move and dislocated the arm socket of an armada marine, then with that same movement she spun quickly and whacked the head off of the same armada marine with its own arm, sending it tumbling into the dragoon and knocking him/her/it off balance, sending the mini cannon into the sky, following her precious daggers. Lizzy leaped onto the dragoon (even though four Lizzies could fit inside of that hulk of a tank) and scurried up and down it, breaking important wires and tearing off the mask of the dragoon. Sparks erupted from in between the armor of the dragoon, smoke drifting into the air, and then the dragoon laid still. Lizzy breathed heavily, and glared at the two soldiers left. Warwick was on the ground, so in the few seconds that Lizzy had while the other soldiers were stunned, she picked up her friend with all the strength she had (thinking that Warwick really needed some lighter armor) and with a flash grabbed a second-degree healing potion that she had saved from a Waponi War she had been in the past, and tilted it into Warwick's mouth.

(I love Warwick sometimes. Meant to be a Swashbuckler, built like a Privateer, acting like a grumpy person who's really as scared as a five y/o kid. I think it's time for a class change on him, though.)
(...DING! Privateer.)

Warwick felt a rush of cold and soothing flow through his veins.
Get up, he heard in his mind in the voice of the General, Captain Orleans, get up, won't you? Warwick sat up immediately, murmuring his reply under his voice. Shaky and bow-legged, Warwick stood, placing his other set of Claws on his wrist. He turned back to Lizzy and nodded with a grin (a rather scary grin at that).

"Go from the left," he suggested, darting towards the rightmost clockwork and tearing into it with his Claws right away. The marine fell. Skidding to a stop in a crouch, Warwick watched as Lizzy expertly took out the other clockwork, sending sparks as far as six feet away. As the clockwork fell, Warwick approached her.
"Thanks for the quick heal," Warwick said with a pang of guilt, "I...should get a new helmet." As the clockworks lay twitching on the sand, Skull Island was just awakening. Shopkeepers opened their doors, oblivious to the fight that had just occurred. Groggy pirates meandered around the tavern's corner and towards the docks, walking by Lizzy and Warwick without a second glance. Warwick realized that Lizzy's timing had been impeccable. Warwick stumbled to where Lizzy's daggers were, and - while dragging the autocannon behind him - gave them back to her.
Warwick considered leaving the scene right then. It sounded appropriate to walk back into his routes of nothingness through the forest, waiting for yet another attack. Perhaps today he could push an abandoned raft into the skies and dock at Jonah Town for the day. However, the island seemed endangered. Whether he wanted to or not, he had placed himself in the center of Avery's war.

DS Devereaux on Aug 13, 2013 wrote:

(I love Warwick sometimes. Meant to be a Swashbuckler, built like a Privateer, acting like a grumpy person who's really as scared as a five y/o kid. I think it's time for a class change on him, though.)
(...DING! Privateer.)

Warwick felt a rush of cold and soothing flow through his veins.
Get up, he heard in his mind in the voice of the General, Captain Orleans, get up, won't you? Warwick sat up immediately, murmuring his reply under his voice. Shaky and bow-legged, Warwick stood, placing his other set of Claws on his wrist. He turned back to Lizzy and nodded with a grin (a rather scary grin at that).

"Go from the left," he suggested, darting towards the rightmost clockwork and tearing into it with his Claws right away. The marine fell. Skidding to a stop in a crouch, Warwick watched as Lizzy expertly took out the other clockwork, sending sparks as far as six feet away. As the clockwork fell, Warwick approached her.
"Thanks for the quick heal," Warwick said with a pang of guilt, "I...should get a new helmet." As the clockworks lay twitching on the sand, Skull Island was just awakening. Shopkeepers opened their doors, oblivious to the fight that had just occurred. Groggy pirates meandered around the tavern's corner and towards the docks, walking by Lizzy and Warwick without a second glance. Warwick realized that Lizzy's timing had been impeccable. Warwick stumbled to where Lizzy's daggers were, and - while dragging the autocannon behind him - gave them back to her.
Warwick considered leaving the scene right then. It sounded appropriate to walk back into his routes of nothingness through the forest, waiting for yet another attack. Perhaps today he could push an abandoned raft into the skies and dock at Jonah Town for the day. However, the island seemed endangered. Whether he wanted to or not, he had placed himself in the center of Avery's war.

Lizzy was looking at the ordeal from quite a different perspective. "Wahoo!" She cheered, leaping into the air. Lizzy bounced around a lot, then picked up Warwick's arms and did a few twirls, pretending to dance with him, much to his dismay. He looked at her, alarmed, as she cheered and looked about ready to do a back flip. "We did it!" She yelled to the world, raising her arms with joy. She kept on muttering "We did it! We did it! We did it!" quietly under her breath, then she went right up to Warwick and kissed him on the cheek. "We did it!" Lizzy called triumphantly, doing a funny little dance. Then she grinned at Warwick. Her smile faded a little. "You wanna know something? I feel reeeaaally tired." On that final note, she fell asleep right there and collapsed onto a soft little sand dune.

DS Devereaux on Aug 14, 2013 wrote:

ATTENTION: I will be able to make it to post here.

Warwick's eyes widened as his face grew colder in paleness then flooded with red. His teeth grit together.
"Alright," Warwick mumbled to himself, "So you are." Kneeling, Warwick dug his hands into the sand, picking Lizzy up and carrying her to the top of the hill created by passing shoppers. Laying her down in the grassy shade, Warwick sat down nearby, opening his back of trinkets and sifting through them with his right hand. With his left, he stroked his cheek, fascinated with the recent happenings. Warwick laughed a little to himself and closed the bag, looking out at the sun still rising.
"Hey, Warwick!" Warwick turned sharply, making his back pop a little, "What're you doing here?"
Great, Warwick thought, Grant. Warwick stood and brushed the sand off of his legs, "Just stopping by, you know. Got to get a new helmet." Warwick scratched the back of his head, yelping a little when Grant dug his hand under a plate of Warwick's armor and pulled him in closer. Grant's other hand grabbed at the shard of clear windstone.
"So, have you found where this goes, yet?" Warwick jerked himself away.
"It's a personal project, Grant. I don't want you in it," Warwick warned, "Go before I make you go. Scram." Grant swiftly pinned Warwick to the palm tree. He [Grant] hadn't yet noticed Lizzy still unconscious. I've got to protect her, Warwick decided. With that, he glared directly into Grant's eyes, gritting his teeth and growling. Grant backed up.
"Okay, okay," he whispered, shaking his hands in denial, "You didn't have to mean it, Commander." Grant ran. That's what I thought, Warwick smiled in victory, plopping himself back down on the grass.

HOORAY!!! Lol

DS Devereaux on Aug 13, 2013 wrote:

(I love Warwick sometimes. Meant to be a Swashbuckler, built like a Privateer, acting like a grumpy person who's really as scared as a five y/o kid. I think it's time for a class change on him, though.)
(...DING! Privateer.)

Warwick felt a rush of cold and soothing flow through his veins.
Get up, he heard in his mind in the voice of the General, Captain Orleans, get up, won't you? Warwick sat up immediately, murmuring his reply under his voice. Shaky and bow-legged, Warwick stood, placing his other set of Claws on his wrist. He turned back to Lizzy and nodded with a grin (a rather scary grin at that).

"Go from the left," he suggested, darting towards the rightmost clockwork and tearing into it with his Claws right away. The marine fell. Skidding to a stop in a crouch, Warwick watched as Lizzy expertly took out the other clockwork, sending sparks as far as six feet away. As the clockwork fell, Warwick approached her.
"Thanks for the quick heal," Warwick said with a pang of guilt, "I...should get a new helmet." As the clockworks lay twitching on the sand, Skull Island was just awakening. Shopkeepers opened their doors, oblivious to the fight that had just occurred. Groggy pirates meandered around the tavern's corner and towards the docks, walking by Lizzy and Warwick without a second glance. Warwick realized that Lizzy's timing had been impeccable. Warwick stumbled to where Lizzy's daggers were, and - while dragging the autocannon behind him - gave them back to her.
Warwick considered leaving the scene right then. It sounded appropriate to walk back into his routes of nothingness through the forest, waiting for yet another attack. Perhaps today he could push an abandoned raft into the skies and dock at Jonah Town for the day. However, the island seemed endangered. Whether he wanted to or not, he had placed himself in the center of Avery's war.

Btw when I said that the daggers and the autocannon went into the sky, I meant like... into the skyways. Like where ships sail. As in, gone. XD Lol it gives us a better excuse to go to the Bazaar, Warwick because he needs a new helmet and Lizzy because she needs new weapons. I plan on something happening in there, no fights or anything but still something important to the storyline. It's definitely okay if we keep the fact that Lizzy gets her daggers back and that Warwick now has a cannon at his disposal, but I'm just letting you know that that's not exactly how I intended it. It's up to you!

DS Devereaux on Aug 14, 2013 wrote:

ATTENTION: I will be able to make it to post here.

Warwick's eyes widened as his face grew colder in paleness then flooded with red. His teeth grit together.
"Alright," Warwick mumbled to himself, "So you are." Kneeling, Warwick dug his hands into the sand, picking Lizzy up and carrying her to the top of the hill created by passing shoppers. Laying her down in the grassy shade, Warwick sat down nearby, opening his back of trinkets and sifting through them with his right hand. With his left, he stroked his cheek, fascinated with the recent happenings. Warwick laughed a little to himself and closed the bag, looking out at the sun still rising.
"Hey, Warwick!" Warwick turned sharply, making his back pop a little, "What're you doing here?"
Great, Warwick thought, Grant. Warwick stood and brushed the sand off of his legs, "Just stopping by, you know. Got to get a new helmet." Warwick scratched the back of his head, yelping a little when Grant dug his hand under a plate of Warwick's armor and pulled him in closer. Grant's other hand grabbed at the shard of clear windstone.
"So, have you found where this goes, yet?" Warwick jerked himself away.
"It's a personal project, Grant. I don't want you in it," Warwick warned, "Go before I make you go. Scram." Grant swiftly pinned Warwick to the palm tree. He [Grant] hadn't yet noticed Lizzy still unconscious. I've got to protect her, Warwick decided. With that, he glared directly into Grant's eyes, gritting his teeth and growling. Grant backed up.
"Okay, okay," he whispered, shaking his hands in denial, "You didn't have to mean it, Commander." Grant ran. That's what I thought, Warwick smiled in victory, plopping himself back down on the grass.

OOC: I feel like I'm a little bit too eager about this Roleplay, this one being the one that I check up on most often. Lol oh well, it is an awesome roleplay, after all.
~
Lizzy curled up into a ball with her right arm slunk over her waist and her left hand near her head, but she ended up breathing in some grass and instantly jumped awake. She lost her balance in her sleepy sitting position, rolling backwards unadroitly. Lizzy put her hands down to help stabilize herself, but then her hands flew to her nose to sneeze, for her nose had gotten agitated by the grass. Lizzy blinked a few times, then noticed Warwick.
"Excuse me." She blushed, then she sat criss-cross and looked at the grass that she was sitting on awkwardly. "I did something weird, didn't I?" She asked, with a look on her face that suggested she was afraid of the answer. "I know this one kid named Evan who did some really funny things when he was tired. Please tell me I didn't do anything out of the ordinary?" Lizzy yawned and stretched, then fingered her new windstone pendent. She gazed at it in wonderment, examining each of its scratches and reading the story that it told of its own history. Lizzy loved her new windstone and was happy with her suspicions in where it went. Although it probably didn't lead where she thought it did, it was still comforting to believe that it went to her home.

DS Devereaux on Aug 16, 2013 wrote:

I love this roleplay SO much, don't worry.
-
"No," Warwick mumbled, looking into the distance without focus, "Nothing unusual. You fell right asleep." Warwick looked back at Lizzy, then towards his own pendant. He realized how much danger Lizzy was in now that she had another shard of the pendant.
"The General, Roland the Avenger, Mary Forthing..." Warwick counted its holders, "Me, Lizzy..." Warwick paused for a moment, furrowing his brow. His eyes squeezed shut and he grumbled to himself. "Captain Avery." Warwick turned to face Lizzy, sitting crosslegged.
"Alright, so things aren't as safe as you think," Warwick admitted. "That windstone that I gave you - its shards are in possessions of many, most my past allies and one as a gift to the general of Marleybone. However, one of them belongs to Captain Avery. Now, before you cut me off, he..." Warwick winced, "Doesn't exactly like me anymore. I made mistakes." Warwick rethought his explanation. "But, you know, that doesn't have anything to do with you. Com on, we should go to the bazaar, anyways." Warwick helped Lizzy up and walked across the courtyard and into the bazaar. Nodding to Harvey, Warwick began browsing through a wall of helmets.

Lizzy thought long and hard about everything Warwick had said. For starters, she felt like she had done something out of the ordinary, but decided not to question it and trusted Warwick's answer. And then... there was the windstone. Why would so many other people have a similar windstone, and why was it so important? The more she learned about the windstone, the more she felt wrong about where it led. She shoved these thoughts aside, then looked to Warwick's back as he browsed through helmets. Lizzy's expression softened, and then she smiled. She should probably pay for his new helmet...

Elizabeth looked down at her rusty old daggers, hardly being able to see her own reflection in them now, as oppose of when she first got them and could use them as an almost perfect mirror. Not that she did that very often, but still, it was useful. She took in a deep, unsure breath, then decided. She would let go of the past, and move forward. Lizzy stuck the daggers on the table, then examined the weapon's rack. Lizzy found a beautiful silver rapier with a golden spiral hand guard, and picked it up. She swung it around a few times, feeling its light weight and loving the feel of the guard against her hand -- it made her feel protected. In the past, she couldn't use swords because their weight would drag her down, but this is just a longer, thinner, more useful dagger. It was perfect. However, what to do with her left hand..?

She spied another dagger similar to her old ones (except this one looked much nicer) and picked it up in her left hand. It was small, light-weight, and comfortable in her grip. Lizzy flipped the handle to hold the blade in between her index finger and middle finger, then aimed for a skinny post near Warwick. With a flash and a whir sound, the dagger was impaled an inch deep into the wooden beam. Lizzy grinned. Perfect.

And, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed her brown top coat. Or, what was left of it. It was tattered and torn and blackened and singed, all from past experiences with troggies alone. Lizzy needed some new, better clothes and decided that she should go ahead and get her new clothes now, rather than wait until her old clothes truly fell apart. Lizzy smiled and leaped into the clothes section of the bazaar, then came out a few short minutes later wearing a black and green corsair outfit, similar to the one that she had seen her sister-in-arms, Sarah Steele, wear. She turned to Warwick.

"How do I look?" She raised her arms like a diva and struck a goofy pose, grinning.

DS Devereaux on Aug 17, 2013 wrote:

"You.." Warwick stammered, "You look great." In his left hand, Warwick held a copper-colored Aquilan-style helmet topped with a large blue plume. He placed it behind a few other helmets (as to make sure nobody else snatched it) and disappeared into a rather shinier section of the bazaar from gleaming sets of armor.
Warwick was greeted immediately, "Authentic drake-scale war-forged armor held together with only but Monquistan...is that gold?" A tall fox stroked his goatee and paced around Warwick, "Needs refining on the side. You took a fall, didn't you? Then, you need a little polishing." Warwick brushed at his armor, flicking dust from certain scales.
"I have this certain polish," the fox mumbled, reaching into a cabinet, "It'll do just the trick. I polish trophies with it." Warwick laughed lightly. This section of the bazaar was quiet...too quiet...
"You know," the fox said, its voice shifting into a cold monotone, "I could use another trophy." Warwick turned to the fox but was held still by two clockwork hands, attached to something he hadn't yet seen. There, in the corner of Warwick's peripherals as he turned, was a Battle Angel, wings folded. Warwick felt cold steel brush up against his neck.
"Lizzy?" Warwick called into the rest of the bazaar, "Lizzy, I need some help, here!" The fox walked in jerky, mechanical steps into another aisle. "Lizzy!?" Warwick thrashed in the Battle Angel's grip, effectively slipping out after a few tries. Warwick unsheathed his Claws and slashed at the Battle Angel, but it dodged his attacks. The Battle Angel reached a single hand out, snatching a clump of Warwick's hair.
"Hey...ouch!" Warwick found himself immobile while on the short leash his hair had become. "I should have bought that helmet." Warwick looked into the mask of the clockwork, growling.
"You know what we want," the clockwork said in a tone just as cold as its blade, "And we'll be getting it. Go ahead, yell for help again. Things have been...taken care of." Warwick leaped in the air, pushing off of the clockwork with his feet. His head ached after he landed in spare metal scales. Warwick felt for his pendant. It was still intact. Warwick stumbled to his feet. The clockwork was gone. Warwick scratched his head, thinking over what the clockwork had said. Things had been...
"Taken care of," Warwick whispered to himself, "Lizzy? LIZZY!" Warwick grabbed onto a clothing rack and leaped over. Things were getting worse.

Lizzy was shaking. Hard. It seems like she does that every living, breathing moment of her existence. Let's see... there was last night, there was a Waponi War, there was her entire undercover mission in Valencia, there was the time the armada first captured her and every time after that, there was also when she first met the rest of the Golden Gryphon Crew, and then there was the time that she was cold. Which is all the time. Well, this, time, she certainly had reason to be scared. You would be too, if you had an autocannon shoved next to your ear.

Two dragoons were holding Lizzy's hands, preventing her from reaching for any weapons. However much she struggled, they wouldn't release her. They had told her that if she calls for help, that autocannon wouldn't be so friendly. This was a very difficult situation indeed. What had it been, half an hour since they were last attacked by clockworks? Dang. New record.

Lizzy thought quickly, taking in a shaky breath, swallowing, and closing her eyes. There seemed to be nothing she could do.

But then she heard Warwick call for help.

A new wave of adrenaline flooded through Lizzy, making her shake even harder but giving her the boost that she needed. Her hands were a little bit slippery from her nervous sweating, and she kicked off the ground, doing a back-flip onto the dragoons' shoulders. One of them was so shocked that it dropped its autocannon.

"I love being a swashbuckler!" She called to the world. Lizzy tore off the mask of the autocannon-less dragoon and cut some majorly important wires. She then pressed her back up against the wall to the side and pushed her legs on the dragoon's back, making it fall into its partner. While it was subdued, Lizzy tore its mask off and took away its important wires as well. For extra measure she kicked it, but ended up hurting her foot a little.

Then she saw Warwick vault over a clothing rack. Lizzy breathed a sigh of relief, looking about ready to cry. She rushed over to her friend and gave him a quick hug around his neck, then backed away and looked him in the eye.

"You need to tell me exactly what is going on." She said sternly. Lizzy leaped away from him, took another dagger, and threw some gold coins at a quivering brown rabbit that had taken shelter under the desk. "Sorry, Harvey!" She yelled, then Lizzy took Warwick's hand and dragged him outside and to the back of the Bazaar.

"I know of an alchemist," Lizzy began, "who makes different types of healing potions." She paused, taking in a deep breath. Then she nodded. "We're going to need them."
~
OOC: Hey, Emma? Are you still reading in this roleplay? Lol Warwick and Lizzy kinda need Alex, any chance you could play her for a little bit on here?

DS Devereaux on Aug 19, 2013 wrote:

Warwick landed on the softened wood, feeling the impact of Lizzy's hug almost immediately. He sighed and held his hands behind her back. He followed her to the back of the Bazaar, snatching the helmet on his way out.
"Alright," Warwick panted, taking Lizzy's other hand and looking to the ground, "As we've found out, the shards of this clear windstone seem to be more valuable than I had expected." Warwick felt his heart race from the fear of the clockworks as the summer humidity baked down on him. "Wherever this stone goes, the Armada will follow. I should receive word from many others - my old general, a friend of mine, and a pioneer - should they get attacked. However, with three - because of Avery - stone-holders here, this is where the Armada will stop first." Warwick let go of Lizzy's quivering hands and wiped sweat from his face with his sleeve.
"Healing potions," he remembered, "Right. Those'll come in handy. An alchemist, you say?"

Lizzy played with the windstone Warwick had given her, then took a deep breath, preparing to get shot down with were she believes the windstone leads.

“The armada wants to conquer the spiral,” she began, stating the obvious, “And in order to do that completely, they have to travel to the wizard's part of the spiral, which is a long way's away and would require a special windstone. A direct passage to the wizard's side of the spiral may be through Grizzleheim, except that no such windstone exists. But maybe a windstone to Wintertusk? The windstone looks like it's a colorless clear,” at this she held up her own pendent, “But I believe that it's a see-through white. White as in snow. As in Wintertusk.” She looked down sharply. “Of course, I could be wrong...” Lizzy rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly.

"And yes, she's an Alchemist. Her name is Alexandra, but I call her Alex, and she's a close friend of mine. If we go to see her I believe we should stock up on healing potions, I think we'll need them." Lizzy cracked into a little smile. "Actually, I know we're going to need them."

Lizzy looked at Warwick, shaking her head at her previous impression of thinking he was shallow. He had many layers to him, several of which no one else had ever seen of Warwick before. It was amazing to think at what all had happened to him in his past, what scars shaped him to be who he is today. Lizzy tilted her head at her friend. He had been through so much, and Warwick had done a lot for Lizzy in the brief amount of time that they had known each other. She played with the windstone, sitting down with her knees up, resting her forehead against them. She sighed. What a mess they had gotten into.

"What should we do now?" Lizzy looked up at Warwick's silhouette, the sun gleaming behind him. Then her stomach growled, having eaten nothing since yesterday afternoon. "I vote we eat."

Just Add Bacon on Aug 19, 2013 wrote:

Lizzy played with the windstone Warwick had given her, then took a deep breath, preparing to get shot down with were she believes the windstone leads.

“The armada wants to conquer the spiral,” she began, stating the obvious, “And in order to do that completely, they have to travel to the wizard's part of the spiral, which is a long way's away and would require a special windstone. A direct passage to the wizard's side of the spiral may be through Grizzleheim, except that no such windstone exists. But maybe a windstone to Wintertusk? The windstone looks like it's a colorless clear,” at this she held up her own pendent, “But I believe that it's a see-through white. White as in snow. As in Wintertusk.” She looked down sharply. “Of course, I could be wrong...” Lizzy rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly.

"And yes, she's an Alchemist. Her name is Alexandra, but I call her Alex, and she's a close friend of mine. If we go to see her I believe we should stock up on healing potions, I think we'll need them." Lizzy cracked into a little smile. "Actually, I know we're going to need them."

Lizzy looked at Warwick, shaking her head at her previous impression of thinking he was shallow. He had many layers to him, several of which no one else had ever seen of Warwick before. It was amazing to think at what all had happened to him in his past, what scars shaped him to be who he is today. Lizzy tilted her head at her friend. He had been through so much, and Warwick had done a lot for Lizzy in the brief amount of time that they had known each other. She played with the windstone, sitting down with her knees up, resting her forehead against them. She sighed. What a mess they had gotten into.

"What should we do now?" Lizzy looked up at Warwick's silhouette, the sun gleaming behind him. Then her stomach growled, having eaten nothing since yesterday afternoon. "I vote we eat."

(8/20 - edits are clear if you're reading this message. Feel free to post.)

"Yeah." Warwick murmured, biting his tongue mid-thought. His brow furrowed, revealing a look of confusion and vulnerability in his eyes. Come on, Captain, Warwick thought to himself, Get ahold of yourself and come up with something! The breaking bits of the HMS Victory flashed into Warwick's mind, Grant's cries for a plan bouncing off of Warwick's skull.

Look, Warwick's subconscious pointed out, Lizzy's always had a plan. Try being like her. Warwick leaned on the wall, making an arc with his hunched back and hands on his knees. He sighed. Lizzy had her head in her knees - this was scarily different than who she normally was. Warwick knew Lizzy as the spritely, spirited girl who always had an plan. But with the casting out of one final idea - a rather valid one at that - Lizzy seemed defeated.

"My general," Warwick thought aloud, "Has traveled to Grizzleheim before. He carries relics from a 'quite snowy region', as he explained. Maybe, once we see Alexandra, we could visit him for a possible route. I mean, he had to have gotten there somehow, right?" Warwick watched small crabs scuttle along the sand, glancing at him, as if checking their wind-stinking plates' reflections in Warwick's helmet. His armor had long been tarnished and dull.

Warwick slid to sit down, crossing his straight legs and folding his hands on his stomach. Stifling a tired yawn, Warwick marveled in how much energy was spent in the early hours of the day, making him feel sleepy by mid-afternoon. (OOC: Ah, the things I make my characters feel while I have headaches...) He was still shocked by how optimistic and free Lizzy had chosen to be, even while the war on the clockwork Armada raged on. It was a quality that Warwick both feared and greatly admired. Warwick ran his hand through his hair, tackling tough knots and putting away the need for warm water and soap for another evening.

A blue skarakeet (OOC: is the second consonant a c or a k?) drifted down from the sky, landing on Warwick's boots and squawking loudly. It was carrying a paper bag tightly kept closed between its tiny talons. Warwick took the bag and removed three objects; a photograph, short note, and large locket. Warwick nudged Lizzy and showed her a picture of two pirates, a boy and a girl.

"That's Mary Forthing, and Roland the Avenger," Warwick explained. He read over the note and sighed shakily as his tone fell, "They've decided to forfeit the mission." Warwick popped the locket open to find two small shards from the end of the windstone embedded into the locket's inside panels. Warwick bit his lip and put the locket on near his own shard. "They've given up on me." Warwick felt his own sense of hopelessness and fear wash over him. He sat, watching the crabs, dodging the thought of sending a note back as the skarakeet flew off.

"Food," Warwick remembered, "Food, that's right."