It is a wonderful red sky-ed early evening in Port Peril. The fishermen rushing there boats out for the long knight ahead of them, the sounds from the taverns in the area just starting to pick up business as the sailors(pirates / navy), merchants and visitors gather for the evening. A halfling woman playing a fiddle and loudly singing vulgar tunes, in the corner. The bartender, stands behind the bar, wiping the glasses with a cloth that is filthier than the clothing he wears. He greats the "normal's as they come in. Two men seem to be having a chat with him as you come in before slipping of to a corner in the shadows...
(Welcome I figure well have some small RP in here to get to know the group before, we get truly going. That way to have some knowledge as to who each other are.)
A tall, blond women in a black coat with silver embroidery and a high-low skirt wearily walks into the Formidably Maid, her boots thunking on the wooden floorboards with each ponderous step. Small pointed ears slightly protrude through her long, disheveled hair. She walks straight to the bar without looking at anything else and drops her brown leather bag at its base with a loud thump.
She leans on the bar, slumps her shoulders slightly, and pausing between each sentence as if each one was a severe drain she says, "Give me something with alcohol. ... Lots of alcohol. ... The stronger the better. ... And leave out the bits of fruit, they'll just slow me down." Straightening up, she reaches into a small belt purse, takes out some coins and places them on the bar with a slight clink. She grasps the battered leather mug the bartender hands her and says more steadily as if just the anticipation of the drink was rejuvenating her, "Thank you, keep them coming until all of those are gone. That should be enough to get me sufficiently drunk."
She turns around, taking in the room for the first time, her brilliant blue eyes literally glittering in the dim, smokey light. Her pretty face is streaked with dirt and the intricating carved, gold pendant on the necklace around her neck is prominently displayed, nestled in the cleavage exposed by her very low cut white blouse. The volume of the many conversations drop slightly as the grizzled sailors look at her and realize she's probably pampered and an easy mark, just ready to be relieved of the gold necklace and whatever coins are still in her purse.
She brings the mug to her lips, looks down, gasps slightly as sees the grime on the white petticoats protruding below the very short front of her skirt and the other dirt streaked on her blouse, corset, coat, and long legs exposed between the hem of her skirt and her black leather boots. She frets, "I must look a complete fright!"
She raises her free hand to the top of her head and slowly brings it down over her hair, face, coat, blouse, skirt, and legs. As her hand passes, her hair straightens out as if freshly brushed and the dirt and grime disappear by magic. As her hand reaches her boots and the oozing mud disappears, she says, "I don't know why I even bother with my boots what with all that mud outside." The conversations in the room resume to their prior level as the sailors turn around realizing she might not be as easy a mark as she appears.
"Finally," she smiles, "I really need this," as she raises the mug to her lips and takes a big gulp. She chokes slightly, coughs and says over her shoulder to the bartender, "I'll take the bits of fruit in it from now on."
The mug begins to steam as if becoming hot in her hand and she sprinkles something from her other hand as she passes it over the mug, "Hot and spiced may help." She takes another swig, chokes slightly and coughs again, "Then again, maybe not."
She looks around the room more thoroughly, taking in the crowd, her eyes twinkle a bit more with added mischief, she smiles seeing a table with some interesting folks around it. She grabs her bag, walks over to the table, plunks it down next to any empty chair, and without even a 'by your leave,' brazenly sits down in it.
She looks around more closely at the people at the table, lowers her head conspiratorily, and says in a lowered voice, "Now, what is there interesting to do in this town..."
Lucia stumbles into the bar, after what looks to have been a very long day. With golden-blonde hair almost down to the ground, she certainly makes an interesting impression. A bit less so is that her hair is still wet, as if she had just been out swimming in the harbor, and her outfit doesn't quite fit her body, the skirt down to her knees and a blouse for a slightly larger woman. She also has a (also recently wet) spear strapped across her back and a few, much smaller, ones tied to her hips, which all look a little more like props than serious weapons. But, she takes a deep breath and glances around, before heading up to the bar.
While she's quick to order a bottle of rum from the bartender, when it arrives she quickly picks it up and stares into the glass for several moments, as if seeing her own face for the first time.
Doreen walks into the bar stepping firmly, and takes a look around observing the crowd. The suspicious aspect of the people inside reassure her she has come to the right place. She can't help but notice a very handsome woman in provocative garment walking from the bar to a table where a quite peculiar crew enjoy their drinks. She looks at herself in comparison, a tomboy with worn out pants and boots, a tight leather waistcoat over a loose white shirt, and the large pirate hat she uses to conceal her face when necessary, and deems her own dresscode much more adequate for the venue. Well, that one is surely looking for trouble.
She goes past a blond girl who seems to have just taken a dive and grabs two large mugs of beer from the bar, and then walks around looking for some familiar faces. She spots an elderly man from her former crew and sits beside him patting him on the back. "So, old man! Now that our dear captain is sleeping with the fishes, what is to become of us?" she says jokingly. "But seriously, though you might be a little past your expiration date to be taken in by a new crew, I for one am eager to board again. Heard of anyone recruiting?" She takes a big sip of beer and hands the old man the second mug in an effort to buy his goodwill. While they talk, she continuously twitches and turns in her seat, looking at the other people around and trying to eavesdrop other conversations regarding the possibility of joining a new pirate ship.
Sharice comes in with her duffel bag over one shoulder and a scowl on her face. As she reaches the bar she glowers at the bartender until she has his attention, then orders an ale and makes her way to an empty chair and sits down
First soujourn to the sea... A qualified success, I suppose. She sighs, then sips her ale. In a town like this it shouldn't be too hard to find a berth. I've enough coin to stay for a few days.
She leans back and removes her bandanna in order to run a hand through her unruly brown hair, then looks around the tavern, sizing up the various patrons and strangers.
Renzuran stared at the contents of his drink from his seat at the bar. It was mostly rum, along with lime juice, a few other assorted ingredients, and a name that had already mostly slipped his mind but he vaguely recalled as a decidedly unfunny pun involving a prostitute's virtue. It was served in a glass with a thumbprint on the inside.
He took a sip, and visibly winced. His throat burned.
As an aspiring pirate and priest of the Sea Banshee he would never admit it, but he disliked rum. It hit him too hard and didn't settle well in his stomach, but he'd be damned if he'd ever let anyone else know that. So he made it a point to order the stuff whenever possible and was determined to build up his tolerance to it.
Besides, it took his mind off the itching. The back of his sword hand was still irritated from the fresh tattoo that had been applied earlier in the week. He had taken considerable care to keep the bandages fresh, but the abstract Jolly Roger was still somewhat swollen.
Absentmindedly he fiddled with the wooden skull and crossbones which hung from a cord on his neck with his free hand. It had been carved from driftwood gathered from an old wreck several miles offshore and blessed by the mercenary high priest of the local Besmaran temple. He could have used it to cast a healing spell on his fresh tattoo, but had decided that it was more prudent to earn the brand the old-fashioned way. The Pirate Queen might not care if he took a shortcut, but Renzuran was constantly attempting to improve himself in any way he could think of.
Lucia stumbles into the bar, after what looks to have been a very long day. With golden-blonde hair almost down to the ground, she certainly makes an interesting impression. A bit less so is that her hair is still wet, as if she had just been out swimming in the harbor, and her outfit doesn't quite fit her body, the skirt down to her knees and a blouse for a slightly larger woman. She also has a (also recently wet) spear strapped across her back and a few, much smaller, ones tied to her hips, which all look a little more like props than serious weapons. But, she takes a deep breath and glances around, before heading up to the bar.
While she's quick to order a bottle of rum from the bartender, when it arrives she quickly picks it up and stares into the glass for several moments, as if seeing her own face for the first time.
He took another pull off his glass and had a look around the bar. Two seats over a blonde human woman with two silver runes tattooed on her cheeks has appeared, soaked to the bone and staring at her own glass like it was a foreign object.
Somewhat uncharacteristically, Renzuran decides to try and make conversation. Rum really did hit him harder than he liked.
"You can stare at it all you want, but it's not going to taste any better," he mutters. "Trust me on this."
What I did with mine was make a blog I could put all the background stuff rather than do large walls of text exposition.
While I love rp, the pbp format can make a short exchange detailing the local town layout and major points of interest take days to a week. I'd rather have them get to interacting with the locals and advancing the plot sooner rather than later.
The old man turns as Doreen pats him on the back. You note two eyepatches criscrossing his face as he speaks. He takes a puff of his pipe before jabbing the stem in her approximate direction.
"Watch who yer callin' old, matey! They's berths a plenty fer a good cook, and I'm one of em!"
He takes a puff.
"And we wouldn't NEED a new berth if'n SOMEONE had stowed that devil-powder of yers some place else than the one with the spark-wasp circus!"
He shudders.
"I'm still picking splinters outa me backside!"
"Yeah, yeah, no need to remind me, ship blows up, dock for repairs, captain picked up by creditors, and here we are. Hey, how was I supposed to know we weren't to dock at Port Peril? He was the captain, he should've known better! Not my neck on the line." Doreen leans forward and whispers into Bellamy's ear "Not a word about the blackpowder incident, alright, old man? Don't want my chances hurt. Heck, maybe we can board together. Keep your eyes open." She elbows Bellamy in a friendly manner after the last statement.
Lucia gulps at the sudden intrusion. "Uhm...not what I meant. This...may sound strange, but what city is this?" She speaks in that odd balance between the 'Shackles Swagger' and proper Chelish diction that can only mean Hell's Harbor.
The question is odd, but the alcohol in his bloodstream smooths over any queries that Renzuran might have raised. Instead he smiles, a lopsided grin that the girl might find strangely unnerving.
"Why, Port Peril, miss. There's few nicer places on Golarian to visit or leave from. Hanging around for long, though, I can't see why anyone would want to do that."
He tips his hat to her as he simultaneously sneaks a drink.
"Renzuran Darber, at your convenience. I was born and raised here. And I'm guessing that you're from out of town...?"
What I did with mine was make a blog I could put all the background stuff rather than do large walls of text exposition.
While I love rp, the pbp format can make a short exchange detailing the local town layout and major points of interest take days to a week. I'd rather have them get to interacting with the locals and advancing the plot sooner rather than later.
"You can just call me Lucia," the girl replies, brushing an annoying strand of hair out of her face. "No, haven't been in town that long. And I wasn't actually planning on staying. I'll be needing a job...one far out at sea."
"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Lucia." he nods. "It just so happens that I'm looking for a similar job opening. I'm a clergyman, as a matter of fact, but that's not really a paying gig in and of itself. What I really need is to launch my career, and to do that I'll need a position on a ship. S'whole reason I came down here tonight, actually. Haven't found anything yet, but the night is still young."
Having drained the remainder of his glass during the conversation, he drops a couple of coins on the counter and motions the barkeep to bring him another.
"Who knows? Goddess willing, maybe we'll both luck out. What kind of work were looking for, exactly?"
Sense Motive checks everyone please!!! (and thank you.)
Sharice tilts her head, half-listening to the conversation going on at the next table.
Doreen notices Sharice listening to her chat with "No-Eyes" Bellamy and addresses her with a harsh tone. "Can we help you, missus?"
Sense Motive:
"Not a word about the blackpowder incident, alright, old man?
Bellamy whoofs a little as Doreen's elbow hits.
"Fine, fine. Enough of that! Me lips 're sealed.""Can we help you, missus?"
"Hey now, who are you callin' missus girlie? I'm all man!"
Turning his head as if listening for a moment, Bellamy says; "Hey there! Is that Alivia I hear?"
He raises his voice as he waives his pipe vigourously.
"ALIVIA! OVER HERE GIRL!"
He elbows Doreen in the side with uncanny accuracy for a blind guy.
"Speakin' o' captains disappearin', me an' Alivia were shipmates too! Captain run off with the payroll, leaving us high an' dry. Small world eh?"
He takes another puff on his pipe, half listening to the halflings bawdy song as well.
"Hey now, who are you callin' missus girlie? I'm all man!"
She quickly turns to Bellamy and mumbles "Not you! There's this girl snooping on us." She then turns back again staring at Sharice.
As Bellamy shares his tale about his and Alivia's dodger captain, Doreen chuckles. "Heh, been there."
Sense motive:
As if the tavern wasn't full enough already, a female half-orc that appears to be in a rather foul mood enters and makes her way over to the bar. "Barkeep, a mug of ale and a glass of rum!"
Sense motive: 1d20 + 1
You all get the feeling of being watched most of you arn't sure from were. As when you glance around no one is looking.
"no-eyes" you get the feeling its coming from all over the room.
As if the tavern wasn't full enough already, a female half-orc that appears to be in a rather foul mood enters and makes her way over to the bar. "Barkeep, a mug of ale and a glass of rum!"
The barkeep nods and gets the intimidating half-orc the "best in house" mixing it up for her and sliding her the glass. "hard day miss?"
The half-orc nods at his question. "Been working at the tavern down the street. Broke up several bar fights today already. The last one was the worst. Two whores arguing over some rich bastard who couldn't make up his mind which he wanted. I'd rather be breaking up a fight between two whole ship's crews rather than get between a pair of pissed-off and money hungry females. Right now I've just been looking for a quiet bar to get a decent drink at."
The half-orc nods at his question. "Been working at the tavern down the street. Broke up several bar fights today already. The last one was the worst. Two whores arguing over some rich bastard who couldn't make up his mind which he wanted. I'd rather be breaking up a fight between two whole ship's crews rather than get between a pair of pissed-off and money hungry females. Right now I've just been looking for a quiet bar to get a decent drink at."
The barkeep nods,"Yeap, it has been one of those nights... The tavern two doors down had a big fight lot of sailors getting dragged of to who knows were. I stayed clear best not to get in the way of that lot. You always have been a good girl for your mom. She must be proud. Old man Joe best be careful one of these days I'm going to snatch you away from him... He teases knowing full well were your loyalties are. "Seriously though any luck finding a ship to join? I haven't heard anything as of late been keeping my ear to the ground for yea I have."
Servi enters the bar following the armor-clad half-orc, though, quite conspicuously, trying to keep her distance.
Walking in, Servi is highly aware that her garments fail to blend in with the regalia of the other patrons, a soft, silk blouse and dress made of many shades of blue and turquoise, detailed with patterns of the sea. She glances about at the other patrons nervously before inelegantly waltzing over to a booth away from some of the other more nefarious looking patrons [ooc](namely Embrianna, Doreen, Bellamy and Sharice.)[ooc], muttering all the time.
My captain, my captain, oh how you shower me with your graces.
She files into a seat next to the wall and sits quietly, trying her hardest to not attract the other's attention.
As much as I would be loath to disobey my sweet captain, she mutters spitefully under her breath, the very least I can do is call into question his thinking. Why would he tell me to wait here, amongst pirates and thieves, dangerous, dangerous men... and women. A strange number of women here, and I wouldn't dare cross any of them for a second.
The seas have bared stranger things. Curious still. I don't trust this and I miss Perro.
"Who knows? Goddess willing, maybe we'll both luck out. What kind of work were looking for, exactly?"
"Actually, was hoping to sign on with a ship. I can climb and work rigging, if I have to. Or start working my way up from other jobs." Lucia says guardedly.
"Nah, no luck yet. Hard to find a berth on a decent ship."
Sharice is less than impressed by Doreen's glare and glowers right back. "If you're that sensitive about having your conversation overheard you might want to reconsider having it at the top of your voice in the middle of a tavern," she points out, then snorts. "Not as if you were talking about anything interesting in the first place; I was trying to listen to those two discussing shipboard work," she finishes, waving her half-full mug in Lucia and Renzuran's general direction.
"Actually, was hoping to sign on with a ship. I can climb and work rigging, if I have to. Or start working my way up from other jobs." Lucia says guardedly.
"Nothing wrong with being a rigger. Not the most lucrative of jobs, though, unless you board the right variety of ship,--"
And here he casually brandishes the wooden Jolly Roger pendant at his neck.
"--in which case you can hope to make a windfall. Or die trying, as it may be. Either way, you won't be bored."
"I was trying to listen to those two discussing shipboard work,"
Doreen seems a little taken aback, as if she didn't expect the other girl to stand up for herself. She sizes Sharice up and replies sarcastically "Yeah, well, good luck with that." She turns away and goes back to her chat with Bellamy, looking over her shoulders to check out Lucia and Renzuran's conversation. She pokes the old man and, watching the volume of her voice, says discretly "Hey Bellamy, cranky missus over there said those two are talking employment. Care to check it out?"
"Nah, no luck yet. Hard to find a berth on a decent ship."
The man nods and gestures around,"Well perhaps today will be the day." He smiles and slips off to help some of the other guests.
"Yeah, yeah, in a minute."
Bellamy fends off Doreen's elbow as he turns his head about with a frown.
"Hey girlie, anyone lookin' at us? I kinda feel 'em; eyes on the back o' me head..."
Alivia gets up from the table she's at and moves her stuff over to the table with the sightless old man, "I think I picked the wrong table, nothing interesting there." She chuckles, "I should know better, the world revolves around food, and consequently, the cooks."
Lucia smirks. "I do believe that's the idea. I'm pretty good with the spear, at any rate. And there's always a chance to move up or earn an extra share," Well, it's not like most of the people in the room probably aren't looking for or have illigitimate work.
There's that grin again.
"That's what I like to see; an entrepreneurial spirit. You'll go far with that attitude, miss."
He accepts his next cup from the bartender and waves an arm expansively at the room in general.
"Too many people are afraid to go out and take what they want from life, and that's a damn shame. 'Fortune favors the bold' after all. Anything worth having requires going out taking it for yourself, and I intend to get what's mine. If they're smart, everyone else in here will be looking to do the same."
I'm ready to be Shanghaied :)