An old, balding man carefully wipes the bar clean. The night is cool, it should draw travelers this evening, he smiles widely in anticipation of the coin to come.
The young woman, little more than a girl in her late teens really, steps forward. "A mug & a trencher, if you would." Her smile is guileless & bright.
Smiles brightly, and bellows to the back:
Heather, we have a customer!
Still smiling, he turns to a great hogs head barrel behind him and draws a tankard of rich stout for the tiny lass.
Here you are my dear. The food will be by in just a moment. If you do not mind, what brings you on the road this day?
Seconds later, an older women with great locks of curly hair brings a great trencher of bread ladled, full of stew.
"Thank you. How far to Ravengro?" Despite her diminutive size & cheery disposition, the young woman carries herself as one accustomed to violence. Her armor & the blade strapped to her back show signs of use and care.
'bout a day and a half by foot. What bring a lass such as you to that cursed place? Can't see a warrior such as you sight seeing!
"A dear friend and...
mentor, died." She answers haltingly.
"I only received his daughter's letter in time because I was already on my way to visit before heading North to Mendev."
Timidly reaches over bar top to pat her hand.
I am so sorry to hear that lass. Old friend of mine once told me the best remembrance, was to tell others of the deeds your friend would have been proud of. Or the misdeeds they would rather have forgotten.
raises eyebrows in question.
Glade wolf walks into the bar (or maybe he has a different name depending upon the circumstances). He takes a seat next to the only other adventurer in the bar. Though he is kind of quiet and shy, he doesn't know what to say to her or anyone else in the bar. He makes a perception check taking 10 to examine his surroundings, how many people are in the bar, the structure of it, the decorations, etc. Perception total is 12.
@ Mr Wolf(for now maybe)Welcome, sir! What will you have this evening?
Well, normally I don't drink, but if I do, I like my drinks to have taste. Taste as in get rid of the alcohol taste. Some people like sex on the beach, others like peach with vodka, others like cherry coke with vodka. Well, you understand, what do you recommend for me? Also I'd like to see your menu for food please
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Sirsi opens the door, lowers the hood of her worn travelling cloak and takes a quick look around.
Walking over to the bar she speaks to the barkeep (when he's not in the midst of talking to Mr Wolf)
"A drink, ale if you have it. And some of what she's having, smells like the food of the gods after the bitter cold outside."
She nods at Ysmerelda, with a smile.
Begins crushing something behind the bar and adds several other things to it as he speaks.
Menu? That I don't have my lord. But, we have some fresh venison, mutton and turkey this night. We've cabbage, onion, carrots, taters, and corn. My wife just baked some bread and we have some sweet bread made with honey. As for a drink good sir, try this!
Passes a glass full of layers of blue, red and clear topped with fresh cream.
Nods to Sirsi as he bellows to the kitchen, Heather, nother one to the front if you please!
Turns to a different hogs head keg and draws a tankard of rich amber liquid for her. Slides it to her in in a practiced manner of long years.
Directed at the two new arrivals
So then, what has you on this chill road tonight?
Mixed vegetables would be good and some bread please.
Wolf drinks the suggested drink.
What brings me here? Demons I guess, trying to get away, learn to fight, and destroy them.
@wolf:
Demons (or undead), eh. You must be from far away then, Traveling to Ravensgro then? I heard the temple there has a massive library, equal to some in the cities!
Glade is relieved to tell of it. Very far away indeed. In fact I was raised by Fauns (or leprechauns depending upon circumstances). Say does the library give information on Demons (undead) and how to deal with them?
Squinting from the light outside, Deivon enters and approaches the bar. Adjusting the bright violet scarf about his pale neck and removing the hat from his head he sits down and looks over at the bartender. "Something warm, if you have it. Tea especially so." His gaze sweeps the room, eyeing each of the patrons quietly.
That I don't know for sure, but I think so. Sometimes we have travelers headed there to research some creature or another. The head priest there used to be some sort of undead killer, Grimm something or other. Grumpy bastard that one.
Deivon's ears perk up at the mention of a fellow hunter of the unholy abominations. Grimm... The name doesn't sound too familiar, but maybe it was one of the men who took a false name...
Nods to Deivon.
Heather, tea to the front please! Some thing filling for the belly good sir?
Several moment later, a women with an astounding mass of curly hair brings a cup full of warm tea, a small dish with honey and a little cup of cream. She quickly sets it next to Deivon with a smile and dashes back to the kitchen.
Seems like you know something there Deivon as he examines the ahha look on his face. Say, what brings you here? Thought maybe since we are all here, we share objectives, we don't have to do this alone
He looks at the bartender and nods. "If you have any, I'd like some venison, lightly seared. No garlic please." He slowly begins to mix his tea the way he likes as he turns towards Mr. Wolf.
"Objectives? None, really. I knew a man there who died recently." He holds aloft a letter pulled from a pouch. "His daughter says I'm to appear for a reading of his will. I don't expect much, he was generous enough in life. But that is about as much 'objective' as anyone needs to know."
For Deivon
A grumpy, but devoted slayer of the undead, Gereld retired some two decades ago at seventy two years of age to "bring light into this world instead of banishing the darkness."
He left to help bring babies into the world and retire from the game.
For those in the know, the father often has tips on fighting the undead and is rumored to have been writing a book on battling the undead.
With a little 'eureka' moment as he finally remembers about Father Grimbrow, a small little grin creases his face. "I'll have to look him up..."
Morthos opens the door to the inn, a breeze of cold from the autum air outside flitters around the place. Ducking his head as he passes a the crossbeam of the door, he pulls back his black hood and lets it rest on his shoulders atop his brightly polished pauldrons.
Brushing a strand of golden hair from his handsome face he approaches the crowd and offers a quick smile to the group. "Hail friends. How fare you this evening?" he asks in a friendly voice.
The Aasimar takes a seat at the bar.
Eyeing the layered alcohol the innkeep hands the lordly fellow, Ysmerelda shakes her head slightly, a wry smirk compressing her lips.
He's going to feel in the morning.
Resting her chin on her left palm, she dimples back happily at Sirsi. "Not much aware of any peccadilloes on his part I'm afraid. His daughter is older than I am." Ysmerelda replies to the obvious lead the innkeep gives her, seemingly oblivious to the possibility that 'older people' might somehow be susceptible to foolishness.
As the rather pallid fellow makes mention of a recently dead friend, she turns. "How terrible, seems there has been a spate of that. Surely the chance for a 'last farewell' is worth as much as any coin?"
At the obviously plane-touched man's hail, she responds likewise, raising a tankard. "Well enough, the food fills pleasingly, the company speaks kindly and the drink will hopefully spare our heads come the morrow."
"Yourself?"
Morthos smiles at the short woman. "Well as well, I always enjoy a change of scenery from Mendev, though I've business in Ustalav, a dark country I'd prefer somewhere nicer." he sighs.
"Well duty weighs on us all I suppose." he says with a resigned smile.
"Is that tea I smell?" he asks eagerly.
Shifting his weight on the stool, he accomdates the massive flail at his waist.
He travels to Mendev but wishes Ustalav were ?..
Nodding at the Crusader's words, she indicates the pale fellow. "He wanted some. I'm sure they can accommodate you as well."
"Few leave Mendev, once they've made their way there. What draws you forth?"
"Attending to legal matters I'm afraid. A friend of mine, professor Lorrimor, passed away and has named me in his will." a sad look passes over Morthos' face.
"He was a good man, though I've not seen him for nearly twenty years. After my visit, in which I hope to meet the good professor's family, I will return to the crusade to continue to fight."
He smiled at the lady.
"By the way I am called Morthos Thadrius, and you are?" she was very small, but polite and projected an aura larger than her figure would deem suitable.
Glade wolf overhearing. I too will fight with you.
He shakes hands.
"Lorrimor? I can assume, then, that it is the same Lorrimor whom I have been called on as well?" He glances over at the woman with heterochromatic eyes. "Tea helps one keep one's wits where alcohol numbs and slows them. And, if I may say so, the tea is rather good here. Must be the honey I added." He takes a long sip, visibly enjoying the hot drink. "The further north one goes, the better the hot drink gets, I've found."
A young man with fiery red hair walks into the tavern. His unusual pure yellow eyes survey his surroundings.
Perception 12
Underneath his hide attire, signs suggest a spiked chain is wrapped like a belt.
At last, a place to rest. I'm tired after the last 2 weeks.
In his unusual voice he asks for some consumptions.
"Hello innkeeper. An ale and some bread for me please."
The stool he was sitting on placed him next a woman with a headband.
By accident, he thanks the innkeeper in a foreign tongue.
Infernal
"હું થાકી છું."
Thank you.
He travels to Mendev but wishes Ustalav were ?..
Nodding at the Crusader's words, she indicates the pale fellow. "He wanted some. I'm sure they can accommodate you as well."
"Few leave Mendev, once they've made their way there. What draws you forth?"
A grumpy, but devoted slayer of the undead, Gereld retired some two decades ago at seventy two years of age to "bring light into this world instead of banishing the darkness."
He left to help bring babies into the world and retire from the game.
Sirsi digs into her food with an unselfconscious hunger.
"Seems to be getting busier." she looks around, as talk turns to death, she realises that most of these people must be on their way to Lorrimor's will-reading.
she's about to speak when the red-haired man's words makes her neck prickle.
She looks at him appraisingly... before speaking slowly.
"તમે શેતાનો જીભ છે"
You have the devils tongue?
She keeps her eyes on him, watching his every motion for a sign of his intentions.
Damnit, all that time must have really gotten to me more than i thought.
As he was about to take a gulp, he almost coughed on it. He was surprised to say the least to hear the tongue of his tormentors addressing him.
Infernal
As do you miss. If i may inquire,..where did you learn the tongue?
Heather, more tea please! And another one, dry! Venison lightly seared no garlic!
He quickly draws a tankard of rich amber ale for his newest guest.
Slightly later, a women with massive curls comes from the back laden with food and drink and deftly sets the meals before her guests. It almost seems as if her locks deftly move the meals as much as her hands.
A massive white and grey cat makes its way from the kitchen, tiny only in size category. Its brilliant blue eyes seem to weigh and measure the lot sitting at the bar.
Slowly, it struts over to the bar before weaving around the legs of the stools and the patrons.
meow?
A hooded figure walks through the door. His face is obscured by a beaked mask not unlike a doctor's mask. He looks humanish enough, walks funny besides that.
Is that the local way of spelling 'tavern'. He ponders to himself as he saw the sign outside. He does go up to the bar, but he watches other people order their food and drink so he can learn the proper way to order.
I have always spoken it, before I could speak the common tongue. Took me some time to learn the origin of it though.
Sirsi is distracted by the cat as it appears at the door.
"Well aren't you a cute one, I've precious little food left, but you're welcome to join me." she ruffles the creatures fur behind it's ears.
I've come to the bar for a night of drinking and socializing. Maybe I can find a job that needs doing. A good Andoren Barley Stout will make a fine evening.
A male halfling walks into a bar...oh wait...A male halfling steps inside, taking in a deep breath of cooking stew and yeast from the multiple brews available. He scans the room and sees a spot at the bar, walking to it and hopping up, his feet dangling.
He cracks a half smile at the bartender, I'll have Barley Stout good sir."
He eyes the birdman next to him, looking back at the bartender then back to the Tengu.
This could get interesting.
Not quite sure weather the Tengu is male or female, having never seen one up close before, he turns and says to the Tengu Afternoon. What brings you to this establishment today?
By the way the birdman carries itself and his weapons, "it" is likely a male and not one to be trifled with. Better to make friends rather than give him a hard time.
Blik turns his head to the halfling, "Stopping for a break before continuing on to my destination. What brings you here?"
You have my curiosity miss, a Varisian who's always been able to speak infernal. It takes Chelaxians years of teachings before they start to learn the damned tongue. I never bothered until that time.
He tears a small part of sausage off and holds it near the cat.
Daniel started talking common again.
"Let's keep it with our native tongue, though i can appreciate a private talk, i prefer to speak common opposed to the language of the devils."
He takes a bite and a gulp, finishing before continuing.
"That brings me to the next question. Where do you come from that you've been able to speak that language?"
[i]Glad the Tengu is not offended enough to peck out his eyeballs...[i]
I've come here for good drink and good company, both of which I may have found. Are you far from home?
@Shush:Yes sir, something for the belly?
Pulls a tankard for the halfling.
A local brew, made be myself, please enjoy!
"No where specific, I was born with a gift, though some would say a curse and speaking the Devils tongue is a part of it." Sirsi sighs, the red-headed man seems trustworthy enough.
"So Chelaxian, you can call me Sirsi and since we're now on naming terms I've a question for you. I've been called out for consorting with devils or even named as their spawn often enough. You must know about these things, do I appear devilish to you?"
Sirsi grins, and her eyes twinkle, as she watches him for a reaction.
The bartender's eye open wide at the sight of such a distinct dress, but quickly smile just as widely at Blik.
Something to sooth the throat after a day of travel good sir? Warm food for the belly, perhaps?
"Aye, very far. From the east."
He waves the bartender over, "I'll have an ale".
He continues talking to the halfling,"Paying respects to an acquaintance of mine actually."
Quickly draws a tankard of amber liquid for Blik, then slides it to him with practiced flair.