Shadow raised an eyebrow. His times at the Inn were to forever be different. He had a growing theory that there were an infinite number of World Serpent Inns, and each would have different elements than the last.
The Duskling gave a nod to the bartender and took a seat far from the main door, reaching into his knap sack to grab a few scrolls, which he laid out in front of him. His business was forever paying well, and forever unknown to the populace. Which was probably for the best; the stroke of genius to install spirits into the walls of a dungeon to stop people from phasing through them had probably made more than a few people mad. Or dead. Which would leave their friends and family mad.
Best to find a Lich before he started bragging about building the Tomb of Horrors outloud in powerful adventurer central.
The common room of the inn was, well, disappointing to say the least. Dalnen had expected something far more grandiose from an inn that was said to extend into the vastness of the multiverse. It was in fact not unlike any other tavern he'd ever encountered in his significantly long life. I suppose it could appear to look different for everyone. Perhaps it looked like a familiar place to each patron. If that's the case then this place truly is powerful. The clientele in here is certainly more, unique, than I've seen before.
After sweeping his eyes throughout the place and a swish of his tail, the tiefling made his way to a corner booth. Something that not only offered a view of the door, but also of the entire common room.
Certainly the most comfortable of chairs I've sat in.
Wouldn't know how comfortable it is, since I'm stuck in a scabbard.
How many times have we gone through this song and dance? You don't even have a body anymore to enjoy it.
Still, it'd be nice.
With a shake of his head and a small chuckle escapes Dalnen's lips, followed by a small puff of smoke. Even after countless centuries Malcastus was still sore about being in a sword. You'd think he'd have gotten over it before now. A small gesture to one of the serving ladies notified her of his ready to order.
A pale, beautiful woman wearing heavy veils and a hooded cloak in crimson, pink, and purple enters the room.
She takes into account the people who are present, but remains silent. Her beautiful dark blue eyes seem to smile beguilingly at those who acknowledge her presence.
Hmm, the woman who just entered is carrying some sort of bow. And despite the veils appears to be quite beautiful. With a slight nod of acknowledgement, a slight smile graces the corners of Dalnen's striking features.
The bow is not at all well hidden, but neither is it in an easy to reach location. The woman does not seem hostile in any way.
The bow is not at all well hidden, but neither is it in an easy to reach location. The woman does not seem hostile in any way.
...
Where is that serving wench? Dalnen wondered. As his eyes wandered the tavern a strange noise. With a twitch of his pointed ears he focused on the sound. He couldn't discern it's location but it sounded like it was something thumping against wood, and he got the distinct impression he was being watched. Whatever it is it's trying to stay hidden. Time to break out the wand.
Casually placing his left arm below the table, Dalnen activated the catch release on his wand gauntlet. The slight piece of willow sprang into his hand and he activated the wand.
Now that the magic is working. Time to locate my observer.
With the aid of the magic from his wand Dalnen was able to spot a curious looking house cat. It was perched up in the rafters and was looking directly at him, it's tail thumping against the wood. Odd. There is a house cat looking directly at me and seems to be trying to draw my attention. Reaching into a pouch on his belt, the tiefling produced a piece of dried meat and shook it slightly back and forth so as to entice the cat.
Master Beschi rises from his rest and casts the rituals as part of his nightly routine starting with Deflection of Wooden Doom and moving on to Extinguish.
Beschi pauses momentarily Odd where has Tribulat gotten to? normally his ghoul was ready to attend him upon awakening, after all Beschi rises at precisely the same time each evening and has for 250 years. Come to think of it, this room appears different than it did last night. The room appears to be the same but certain things are just slightly different. The doorknob is no longer made of crystal but brass. The towels hanging on the rack are simple cloth and not egyptian cotton. In the corner is a chamber pot of all things. How did I not notice that last night? The chandelier on the ceiling is simply gone. Even the light switches are not there.
Beschi shrugs and sits down to use the device he still retains from Sturbridge. Unfortunately Celestyn does not respond.
After 30 minutes with no response Beschi heads out of the room. For a moment he closes his eyes and focuses his will to ensure he is not sleeping still. The hall is completely different. Gorgeous persian runners have been replaced by hardwood floors. Overhead lighting has been replaced by wall sconces for large candles.
"I must be still dreaming. It is as if I have stepped back in time. Perhaps this dream will lead to further insight".
Beschi heads down the hallway chuckling at the strangeness of the dream hoping he remembers it to tell Tribulat when he wakes up.
As he heads down the stairs to the lobby he sucks in his breath, despite the fact that he has not needed to breathe in quite some time. The lobby has been replaced by a common room from an Inn and bizarre creatures occupy the place, including a demon!
Beschi uses his Auspex to examine the aura of the creature.
Perception + Empathy Difficulty 8
Jun stirs slowly, his body relaxing back in to his chair as he pulls himself out of his trance like meditation. Stretching slowly, he pops each muscle in his shoulder, one by one, till he felt a serene wave of peace flow through his whole body. Sitting back, he flicked his eyes over the room, making note of anything of interest.
He passed over the House Cat in the rafters, before his eyes dart back, as the cat evaporates and appears near another patron.
"So... Not what you seem hey? Then again, who is?" He sighed, his eyes flicking toward the sallow character who had just entered. "Well now... What is this?" Marking him out for later investigation, Jun raised his hand, signalling to the Bartender for a bottle of strong rice wine, before he sat back once again, pulling a harp from the chair beside him.
Sitting back, he began to strum softly on the harp.
His fingers danced lightly across the strings, spinning a soft sad melody. Jun focused, giving himself over to the music completly.
Denaria turns towards the sound of the harp playing, her eyes lit up, sparkling with adoration.
She hesitantly pulls away from the bar and approaches the player.
"Lillidiren? Shanathadris?"
Dalnen's eyebrow raised slightly as the cat suddenly appeared beside him and the dried meat turned to fish. Both were spells he'd seen a number of times before, but certainly not from a cat. And to top it all of it began speaking. It was a language he'd heard a number of times before in his dealings. Mostly spoken by older monsters and entities. Dalnen had tried to learn it but couldn't master it. The language itself was a little to rough and difficult for his own tongue, but he knew a few phrases.
Understanding the basics of the cats comment, the corner of his mouth tugged into a smile. "I admit that I've not dined on dragon often. I find the flavor that gets into the meat to be too fearful. And to be honest, such a taste does not compliment such a...proud delicacy." Dalnen replied in his original tongue of Thassilonian. The language was older than him, dating back centuries to the time when the Runelords roamed Golarion. Perhaps if the creature was as knowledgeable as she seemed she'd understand him.
He smiled up at the woman as she approached. When she began to speak, he frowned softly in thought, before setting his fingers to the harp once more. He began to play.
The chords he struck seemed to dance. His fingers twirled across the strings. He played a soft, sorrowful tune, one that seemed to echo about the room. There was no magic in the notes, none but the pure, unadulturated magic that music could weave.
The tale he told with each note, each rise and fall of beat and tempo, was one of sorrow and loss, one of love and hope. It reached a heart wrenching crecendo, before cutting off violently.
He looked up and smiled at the woman, before frowning softly and attempting to speak.
"I am afraid I did not understand what you asked m'Lady. Do we share this language?" He tried Celestial first, just out of interest.
Suspicion? A strange feeling to be predominant in a demon. In any case Beschi would watch it carefully.
Perhaps it did not matter what he did after this was a dream. Deciding to fully embrace the experience Beschi descends the stairs and takes a seat at a table where he can sit with his back to the wall and observe the other odd patrons. It was rather odd in a dream that he understood none of the languages being spoken after all Beschi did speak eight languages fluently.
Aura Perception on everyone.
Shadow Kinkade
Perception + Empathy Difficulty 8
Jen the Housecat
Perception + Empathy Difficulty 8
Jun Fah
Perception + Empathy Difficulty 8
Denaria
Perception + Empathy Difficulty 8
the Bartender
Perception + Empathy Difficulty 8
the Minotaur
Perception + Empathy Difficulty 8
Once Beschi is done with his initial observations he will speak with the table to see if perhaps it has any insight.
Elemental Mastery - Wooden Tongues
Expend 1 Blood Point - Willpower Difficulty 5
A slight chuckle followed by a wisp of smoke escapes Dalnen's mouth. Continuing in Thassilonian, "I've got nothing but fight left in me my dear. I find that one either fights and lives or dies. Settling down is an option, but at it's core being sedentary is just like dying, only on a much slower time frame. No, I prefer a life of conflict, adventure, intrigue, and danger. I live my life to the fullest I can and seek new experiences. It is why I came here. I find that if you live long enough you see much. And I my dear," Dalnen pauses and leans forward, placing his arms on the table, a predatory grin creasing his face, "have lived for a very very long time."
"I am the terror of and bringer of death to those pompous and arrogant wielders of all arts aracne! I am the bane to any caster of magic. I have spilled the blood of countless evokers, diviners, and summoners! I, am the mighty sword, Malcastus, Slayer of Wizards!" Roars a voice from Dalnen's hip.
Grimacing and pinching the bride of his nose, Dalnen sighs, "Must you be so loud when introducing yourself? It gets annoying. I'm sorry for Mal's yelling and rude introduction. He get's a little over zealous sometimes."
Shadow, once seated, concocts a language spell.
Shadow mutters to himself for a while moving his hands, and in general, seems to be casting a spell. When he stops, anybody who speaks a language he doesn't know is completely able to speak, read, write and generally understand any language.
Soaring through the skies of the realm the demon observes the inn as it approaches. Passing by once to take in the building as it passes, the creature wings over and dives in a at a measured pace to set down just outside of the inn. The demon's cold black eyes scan the surrounding area...
Beschi will check the man playing with fire and the storyteller next.
Man Playing with Fire - Auspex Difficulty 8 -
Storyteller - Auspex Difficulty 8 -
Did Beschi get a response from the table using Wooden Tongues?
"I will admit that my companion has some skill in the areas of combat but it is due to my wealth of experience, knowledge of things arcane, and unique properties that give him the exact edge he needs to defeat such arrogant beings." The speaking ceases for a moment and continues in a slightly haughty tone that seemed to pain it, "As for his use of wands and other magical devices it is....tolerable. He's convinced me that the usages of such items can be...useful."
With a rolling chuckle Dalnen leans back. "You're lucky. I've only gotten him to admit that on a few occasions, and only ever telepathically. Certainly never out loud. As for the reason he isn't trying to command me to kill the other spellcasters in here, well, over the years Malcastus has learned temperance. And despite his bluster has found that working with wizards can be beneficial."
As a serving wench walks by he orders a drink and turns back to Jen. "Where are my manners? I apologize. I have yet to introduce myself. I'm Dalnen Vasir. Entrepreneur and businessman. And you are?"
"A pleasure Ms. Jen. I do not use magic no. My abilities are more, physical in nature. I thought of studying magic at one point in time but found I was better with swords. I do use various tools of magical inclination. The wands are just a few. As for Malcastus, he has a few magical abilities and tricks." Dalnen replied.
"A few tricks? My tricks as you put it have saved your bacon a number of times if I recall."
"I've found that magic, although useful, can't always be relied on. I've been around long enough that magic can be incredibly unreliable. But the same goes for many other things. I've found that one can truly only ever rely on one's self and wits."
Sighing softly, Jun sets the harp down on the table before him, before standing. Stretching slowly, Jun sighs before walking to the bar.
"Can I get a bottle of Elven Wine and two goblets please?" Pulling some gold from his pocket, he lays the coins on the counter.
The woman fails to understand Celestial, and simply shakes her head.
When the monk speaks in common, she seems surprised.
"No, they are names. I thought you might know them, based on your beautiful playing."
Her voice has a pleasant ringing tone, but with an otherworldly echo.
Jun frowns for a moment before smiling. "I am afraid I do not. I apologize for that. But perhaps if you could hum some of their works I could see if I have heard any of it before. I am afraid I have been out of the world for a spell!" He smiles and pours two goblets of the Elven wine, offering the mysterious woman one.
Shadow frowned. He was sure one of the serving wenches would have come to his table by now.
"Excuse me!" He waved to one.
"I'd like a little service please!"
Even though the words sounded rude, he was trying to be as diplomatic as possible.