“” The billowing voice comes from a man leaning against a side of the tavern. The sound hangs in the tavern, deep in its tone and haunting in its timbres. The voice matches the man, who even leaning against a wall is towering. His ornate black full-plate is lined with yellow trim. Horns adorn the helmet that covered his face, with only a slit for the man to see through. As ornate as the armor was, it was also equally used. A matching shield, with a dragon in yellow relief, hung from the back of a chair next to the man. The lady next to Payk giggles again at a not-so-hushed comment*.
Alden diligently scribbles down Dante - Private on the sheet. Glifdore is more curious, “And what do you do Dante?” In response the man clicks open the latch on a longsword sheath resting on his hip. Glifdore swallows. “Right. Er, good, now then, who else. Quickly now.”
It looks like the dragon on his shield at him up and spit him out.
Ezra notices names being called and smiles, quickly casting enhanced diplomacy on himself while the 'Dante' fellow was speaking with Glifdore. Once Glifdore calls for someone else, he quickly stands up, lifting himself with his walking stick, and hobbles over. "It is a pleasure to be here," Ezra says with a smile. "My name is Ezra Thorne, and I am here not as a potential mercenary, but as an emissary on behalf of an organization known as the Aspis Consortium." Ezra quickly flashes his bronze badge, and continues. "I have been sent to help your guild grow to greatness and stay strong and stable; an alliance of sorts. I have also been sent to convince the mayor of this fine town of the importance of having your guild here, and perhaps even having the mayor publicly support your organization. Ezra offers out a hand to shake. "Perhaps you would be so kind in to allow me to make the offer of this alliance... or at the very least, think about my proposal. I would be happy to stay here in town while you consider it." He switches to Infernal, and bows flamboyantly, hiding a grimace as the pain in his leg started up again.
ALSO, once K'leck is finished speaking, he gives a quick thumbs up to the highlander. He sincerely wished the man well.
SM on Gil
Percep on paper
percep on whisper
Yorrick rises and speaks softly, but confidently.
Yorrick. I am a Bard of some skill. I can entertain the men, and I have the ability to improve the efficiency of other magic users in my unit, not to mention a bit of a knack for counter spells and a knack for getting myself out of trouble. Of course he does not mention that to have a knack for getting out of trouble he has to also have a knack for getting into it...
My friends here in the bar have already heard several of my tales and I hope to compose our own adventures and glories to spread the glory of the guild.
Diplo
He bows and retakes his seat.
At Glifdore's call, K'leck arm eagerly goes up. Unfortunately, it happens to be the arm attached to the hand holding his mug of ale. Some of it splashes out, missing him but earning a glare from the barkeep. A glare that completely escapes his attention as he focuses on the man talking.
When it's his turn to introduce himself, he stands up, towering above most others (who are admittedly mostly sitting, but still) at somewhere around 6'6". His coppery hair hangs loosely to his shoulders, and he's isn't often seen without at least a slight smile on his lips. Despite his large size, the muscles straining against his tan skin, and the obviously well used weapons on his back, there's no trace of malice or aggression in any of his behavior. Just confidence.
"I am K'leckemaki Mauna'kiola'ho'okuku'meakua of Shriikirri-Quah." He pauses a moment, waiting long enough for the scribe to give him a wide-eyed, 'how in tarnation do you spell that?' look before continuing with a broad grin. "But is too difficult to say for airsick lowlanders. K'leck is simple enough, I think." He finishes off his now mostly empty mug before placing it down on the counter.
"I pick up angry men to make them harmless until they cool down. If they don't cool down, I throw them in water. If this no work, I poke them with sharp end of konoki until they behave." He indicates a couple of spears and shortspears strapped on his back. "Also have some skill in wilderness."
Finished speaking, he sits down once again, beaming brightly at both Ezra and Yorrick.
Gotin slips to the back of the room before discreetly circumnavigating the the tavern until he's standing just behind Glifedore and in a voice which is perfectly casual, but at volume just below shouting he says,
Gotin is my name, but you may call me Banana for any who didn't notice before he pronounces this BAH-nuh-NAH and I'm happy to do whatever you like, especially if it involves drink, dice, or surreptitiously observing someone before bleeding them out! Or if you prefer I'm an adroit scout and adequate tracker! he smiles pleasantly
A young man with shoulder length black hair, clad in wilderness gear and leathers stands up raising his hand slightly. He speaks clearly if not enthusiastically. I am Flynn Miller from Galt. I and my companion panther Shadow can offer services of tracking, a sturdy bow and claw, or if need be, my sword arm.
He quickly sits down and pulls his ale closer clearly uncomfortable in such a large crowds.
An over-sized dwarf with well-kept, jet black hair and beard hops off one of the tavern's bar stools, landing surely on his feet. Though the stink of alcohol pours off him, he doesn't appear inebriated at all, his amber eyes still razor sharp as they look to Glifdore. Wearing a simple(but strangely baggy on his large frame) outfit of orange, red and black, with weapons and a holy symbol of Torag tucked into his belt, the dwarf taps a booted foot on the ground.
"'ey call me Khron Stonearm," he begins, his rough voice easily heard over the din of other hopefuls to the guild. He crosses his arms and continues, "I'm a soldier-priest o' lord Torag, hammer o' th' Fa'er o' Creation 'imself. W'at me fist cannae fix, me magics can." As almost an afterthought, relaxes his posture and begins to gesture with one hand, an orb of water materializing before his open palm. With a flick, it splashes on the ground in front of him. "Ya need muscle, I'm yer man," he finishes, nodding.
Glifdore looks carefully at Ezra, carefully and blankly. “Asspiss Conshorshum? Well, er, that’s good I guess.” To alden, “Put ‘em down as a specialist. We can talk ‘bout the poilitcal later.”
-
Glifdore nods to Yorrick, relief plain on his face. “Private fer him.”
As K’leck is talking, Glifdore nudges Alden. “No boi, don’t write the whol’ thin’ down, didn’ ya hear him, koleck is fine.” On the paper, Alden writes K’Leckamaki – Private”
-
“Buhnuna can be a scout then, gud to have diff’rent ranks in this here guild.”
-
Gilfdore shakes his head at Alden writing Flynn Miller – Private and Shadow – Panther but deigns to speak.
-
Glifdore smiles at Khron, “Gud haven’ anuter dwarf her’, well met. He can be a private ”
At Khron’s introduction, Payk jumps up. “Arr ya kiddn’ me?” His dwarf impression isn’t that great. “This guy’s allowed in the guild? He can’t even speak taldan ”. Glifdore nods and Payk fumes, then looks around. “[b]Is there no other wonderful adventurer that wants to join this guild, no noble hero to save the town?” When no one responds he smiles. “Well then, sinc this lot can’t do it, I’ll be the hero.” He starts striding for the door. “Let me know when we have some work to do, I have places to be.”
Payk opens the door violently, only to close it just as quickly, and scramble down to a sitting position with his back against the door *. You may not have been able to catch the , but you certainly heard the scream, and Payk did too. His demeanor changed, but it didn’t seem like any new emotion entered his face. Instead, it seemed like what was previously there had been washed away.
It looks like quite a few people are out shuffling through the streets.
K'leck laughs. "Many drunk people in streets. Who knew this was such a part-" He's cut off by a scream. Frowning, the large man rises and heads outside. "What is screaming? Is drunk people getting into fight?" Unaware of any real danger , his weapons remain sheathed. After all, what kind of a brute would go armed to a bar fight? Everyone knew real gentlemen stuck to their fists.
perception
Noticing the people on the street, Ezra moves to the door and strained his eyes to see what they looked like.
Ezra recognizes these thing from the holy texts he has read as undead and he will fumble backwards, almost tripping ove his bum leg and stutter out. "Those things aren't drunk. They are... undead monsters." At this point in time, he will stand still, frozen and fear, and feel a slight tingling sensation in his arms, where burns covered his skin. "Damn it, Asmodeus was giving me a sign." He looks around and then speaks up. "I've never encountered them outside of stories... I think the warriors are best to handle this, not a cripple like myself."
sauntering over to Payk and the door
@Payk so, are you always so ineffectually dramatic or do you actually serve some purpose here?... and what's wrong with you?! and what's wrong with them?!! indicating the people outside and what the
Free of the tavern, but trapped by the horde, Payk hesitates, his short sword darting forward continuously but his legs failing to follow. Instead he takes a small step back, and quietly soothes the trembling woman.
"Do not worry, miss, the Tadloton Merc Guild was formed just this very evening for events such as this. We will protect you, or my name isn't Captain Payk/"
Dante has no such reservations, though the zombies probably wish he would. He surges by the elf and lady, his long sword gripped in two hands.
Dante's sword rips through the zombies gut, spilling gore onto the cobblestones and his armor. The zombie gives a futile swipe back and collapses to the ground.
Khron starts at the mention of undead, but he doesn't look afraid. Rather, a nervous grin spreads on his face. "'ell, 'is ain't quite 'at I 'ad in moind when I came 'ere," he says, cracking his knuckles, "but I s'pose i's a start!" He lumbers over to stand near the door of the inn, before dropping into a fighting stance. "Let 'em come!" he shouts, though there is a very obvious twinge of worry in his rough voice. "Sure 'ope 'ose lessons 'bout fightin' the livin' dead pay off..." the dwarf thinks to himself, but he tries not to let his worry show. Not after all that bragging he did.
Flynn moves to have a clearer view of the door and draws his bow, knocking an arrow. I have no experience fighting these vile creatures. Hopefully, they will fall to my arrows.
The smile leaves K'leck's face as his expression darkens. "Undead? That is sign of bad wailua. We must put them to rest and discover was has angered the spirits."
Noticing the lady in the street, he calls out to her, waving to indicate she should seek out the relative safety of the tavern.
Glifdore reacts before Alden can, running through the players crowding at the door and then pulling the earth breaker off his back. The distance is too great though, and he has to pull up as a zombie prepares to attack.
"oi, lads, now then we's got some killing ta do. Buck up and tear the undead rot out of ther' guts."
Alden only moves because he sees Glifdore. He shakily makes his way to the street, emboldened by the Glifdore's chant. He approaches a zombies, ornate daggers flashing in the torch light in both hands. The wall that hits him isn't what he was expecting, but if forces him to a knee nonetheless. uughhh, the smell. He stays on his knee, retching though his efforts afford him nothing.
K'leck snarls in frustration as the lady stands there. "Airsick lowlander! Do you have death wish?" He looks back and forth between her and the zombies, trying to decide if he should kill the nearest zombie or make sure none of the zombies can reach the obviously terrified, unarmed woman. Bah, she is probably not a wrestler. I should make sure she is safe.
He dashes to defend the woman from the undead hoard, drawing his spear as he goes.
Payk hesitates in front of the lady but as others come running he mumbles about time and cooly steps up to a zombie, slashing in stride.
Payk might have focused a little too much on the look of the thing, instead of the accuracy of the attack, and even the zombie is able to avoid the attack.
Dante curses at Payk, or at least what seems like a curse in the muffled helmet. No games, just fight.
He follows his own advice, strafing left to stab at a zombie watching Payk, and then pulling stab into a backhanded swing.
The first zombie falls, but the second is able to turn just enough to not catch a slash across the front.
Eyes still focused on the approaching zombies, K'leck tries to make his voice calm and reassuring. "You will be safe in the tavern. I will cover your retreat."
K'leck snarls in frustration as the lady stands there. "Airsick lowlander! Do you have death wish?" He looks back and forth between her and the zombies, trying to decide if he should kill the nearest zombie or make sure none of the zombies can reach the obviously terrified, unarmed woman. Bah, she is probably not a wrestler. I should make sure she is safe.
He dashes to defend the woman from the undead hoard, drawing his spear as he goes.
Seeing the woman on the street, obviously as frozen with fear as he was a second ago, and steps out onto the street, the reeking stench of the undead hitting him, and almost making him vomit. Continuing to limp over, he covered his mouth in his silk robes and waves the woman over to him. "Please m'lady, there is no time, you must come inside!" He just manages to get the words out, almost choking when the putrid air touches his tongue.
Even as he is shouting and looking to the undead, Ezra feels the tingling in his arms turn into a burning sensation and even though his attention is focused elsewhere, he could swear that underneath his clothing, his skin, which should be blackened from the burns, is glowing orange and red. 'Dear Asmodeus... what is this?'
realizing the battle isn't coming to him, he rushes out to meet it, ignoring his blades and unslinging his bow. knowing he'll likely only get off one shot before joining the melee he nocks, draws and fires his arrow at the closest zombie not engaged with his new allies, hoping against hope that he looks as good doing it as he thinks he does.
and is gratified with the knowledge that he almost does
Khron steps out of the door and moves out into the street. Once he gets a look at all of the shambling undead, he seems to go a bit pale. "I ain't loike 'is one bit!" he shouts, before grasping his holy symbol in his left hand. "Выполняется помочь нам ..." he mutters while gripping the silver hammer. A faint sheen glows around the dwarf's body, and his skin seems to regain its normal tan coloring. As he relaxes back into his stance, determination shines in his eyes, even if he still looks rather shaken by the troops of zombies. "I ain't afraid o' ya rottin' monsters! Come!" he challenges, fists balled and ready to strike.
Yorrick double moves outside
Once he gets outside and sees the shambling bodies
Fear not! I will confuse one presently!
Seeing the door closest blocked and crowded with other recruits, Flynn doubles moves towards the far door, bow still in hand.
Yorrick begins to sing and hum and he devolves into a jazzy riff. He casts confusion which doesn't work of course but now he knows
and
Perc/SM must beat spell song roll or spell casting is not noticed.
He draws his sword and whip
magic doesn't work!
Ezra sighs in exasperation and stumbles even further outside, now seeing the horrid mass of zombies attacking his new allies. Turning to the woman (who is now right next to him) he offers out one arm and pleads, "Please come with me. We must get you to safety!"
As the zombies get closer, the searing pain in Ezra's arms continue to grow until it is almost unbearable.
Flynn steps out the door, and fires an arrow at the nearest zombie.
K'leck grunts, eyes focused on the undead. "Listen to Ezra. Go with him. I shall bring death to the zombies!" He pauses, seemingly uncertain of his language. "Again."
He moves and then jabs at the nearest undead.
pffft! I may as well have shot a tree for all that! he exclaims as he drops his bow and, deciding a bit of hack-n'-slash might be more effective than fencing, pulls a short but wicked kukri from his belt as he maneuvers himself to the opposite side of the thing facing Glifdore and gives him a credulous wink before attempting to carve into the loose, decaying flesh.
Payk doesn't take kindly to being attack, and replies whit his short sword. Payk's flourishing attack hits, taking off the zombies hand.
Dante grunts, but doesn't chide Payk a second time, he's too focused on his own defense. Dante's focused attacks bring down two more zombies, creating bulwark of undead bodies around himself.