"Greeting Planewalkers and welcome to the World Serpent! Come in and take a load off yer feet. I be Mitchifer your humble hoslter. What can I get for ya? I have a selection of viands and victuals for every taste from Arborean apple pies, Heartwine from Curst, Bytopian barley toast, or even roast Fhorge... that's a crazy wild boar what lives on the 'Land. And drinks from around the multiverse to quench the mightiest thirsts! If ya need a room there's plenty to be had round the back corridors. Careful though even I don't know everything that goes on back there."

"Ah, here's the place Eir! Now, what were you drinking?"

Honeymead naturally.

How gracious of you...please excuse my compatriots, they know not how badly they smell.

Honeymead naturally.

How gracious of you...please excuse my compatriots, they know not how badly they smell.

Good innkeeper, a bath if you please!

*Walks by, unshowered in decades. Nose stuffed full of finger.

Oh my dear... in the name of Odin, was that a halfling?

“Perhaps a gnome … I hear they face extinction on some worlds – this specimen seems ample evidence of that.

Barkeep! Ah, my good dwarf … a bottle of honeymead if you please.”

"Actually I'm Human, sort of... Here you are Sir Bariaur your Honeymead."

As you look closely you see Mitchifer's beard and hair are actually tiny pale serpents and his eyes are slit like a snake.

"Actually I'm Human, sort of... Here you are Sir Bariaur your Honeymead."

As you look closely you see Mitchifer's beard and hair are actually tiny pale serpents and his eyes are slit like a snake.

"You must have been bending over..." mutters the bariaur, and then gives a sly look to his female companion. "At any rate, my thanks! The god's blessings upon you."

Calgaich watches the halfling meander past, carefully holinghis breath. He gives the little fellow a nod, having seen him in action against a rowdy githyanki a few hours ago.
"Mitchifer," He calls, " I'll hae another of these... Guinness, ye call it? Och, but it's a fine wee porter, and tha's a surety."
He stretches, enjoying the feel of his spine and shoulders popping, and grins at the looks from some of the less physical patrons.

A four-armed mantis-like creature with a sand colored exoskeleton walks uncertainly into the bar, his antennae waving to and fro. To the bar as a whole he states in a monotone voice:

"Query: Has drink hole thin-shells see dirty little one, lots little skin creatures eat eat? Athas need dirty little one. Other clutch ones need dirty little one get they look good."

A rather confused looking teenage girl in an outlandish outfit looks up from her chilled pearl tea.

"Um, mister bug man? There was this really dirty - like gross - little guy who walked through here like two minutes ago. I think he went that way. Um ... have you seen like a ten metre tall mech with a plasma cannon? I'm sure I parked it just outside..."

"Oh, was that yours?"

Claps hands together in glee. “Oh, she’s soooo cute!”

Bends down to take a closer look at the little girl. “Oh …. Well, um. Are you lost, little girl? Do you need help to find your mommy?”

"I'm in the space marines"

Pulls out a serious-ass handgun.

"I took your plasma cannon apart cuz I want to put it on my wagon."

“Perhaps a gnome … I hear they face extinction on some worlds – this specimen seems ample evidence of that.

He pulls out a bar of soap proudly. "I get this for smellss that girls like."

The soap slips out of his little fingers and slides across the table and onto the floor. "Oopss." He shrugs. "I gos more."

"Waas in sat bossle." He finishes pointing at the honeymead, interested.

Turko scans the present clientele of the inn, gauging their relative strengths and weaknesses. Satisfied that they posed no immediate threat, Turko moves to the bar.

"Aye, a bottle of your finest whiskey," he tells the bartender laying down a handful of gold on the bar. Taking the bottle, Turko then moves to the sandpit to see if there are anyone duelling there.

A slighly comical square being with small vestigal wings seemingly made of metal stands uncertainly at the threshold of the inn, then advances to the bar.

"Query. Does this place of liquid and solid imbibement have a supply of Clockwork Medium-Grade Oil? I am in need of lubrication."

"Ooooooh. It talks"

Pulls out her toolkit.

The Bariaur stares at the kobold for a moment, then turns to his companion.

"This place is getting crowded hon. Want to take our honeymead back to one of those rooms the barkeep mentioned...?"

"I'm in the space marines"

Pulls out a serious-ass handgun.

"I took your plasma cannon apart cuz I want to put it on my wagon."

"Grunts!" she exclaims.

The Bariaur stares at the kobold for a moment, then turns to his companion.

"This place is getting crowded hon. Want to take our honeymead back to one of those rooms the barkeep mentioned...?"

Finding no sport in the sandpit, Turko sits himself in a darkened corner of the common room and pulls out his greataxe and whetstone. He then starts sharpening the blade, whistling all the while.

"Yess, letsss."

Serpico goes with the bariaur.

"By Thor, it's following us."

ROFL

Turko observes the woman, the bariaur and the kobold file pass him. Now, where do you suppose they're going?

Prime, is alcohol considered a poison for purposes of my immunity?

"Ooooooh. It talks"

Pulls out her toolkit.

"Attention small humanoid. According to Sigilian Governing Code 2333-4455-56x revision 3a, alteration of a living construct without prior written consent of said living construct is a felony crime punishable by Maze exile or death. Any actions taken by a living construct to preserve its current configuration will be legally considered as self-defense."

"The base core said that before I hacked it. But as you are kinda cute I shall spare you my curiosity."

"This unit recognizes that juvenile humanoids are driven to understand things by disassembly. If you wish to study this unit's schemata, there is a less painful method."

Olli opens a small panel on his left side and hands a battered tome to Ha 442.

"this tome is the official Manual of Basic Modron Configuration as set forth by Primus Iteration XLII. "

Prime, is alcohol considered a poison for purposes of my immunity?

"Query. Does this place of liquid and solid imbibement have a supply of Clockwork Medium-Grade Oil? I am in need of lubrication."

"This unit thanks you. Performance is often impaired when oil levels drop."

Olli places several small siver coins curiously shaped like gears on the bar's scarred countertop and begins to delicately sip the golden liquid served to him.

"By Thor, it's following us."

ROFL

Turko wrote:

Prime, is alcohol considered a poison for purposes of my immunity?

Probably... but who's to say that Earth elementals and Dao don't have something similar, like resonant crystals that you place under your tongue that provide a gradual disorientation.

"This unit recognizes that juvenile humanoids are driven to understand things by disassembly. If you wish to study this unit's schemata, there is a less painful method."

Olli opens a small panel on his left side and hands a battered tome to Ha 442.

"this tome is the official Manual of Basic Modron Configuration as set forth by Primus Iteration XLII. "

Serpico looks behind to see who she is talking about. Puzzled he shrugs and runs to keep up with the polite man and pretty girl.

Well, I guess for the purpose of future role-playing, we can assume the kobold watched. If he tries to stick his finger into anything she'll kick himn in the head.

Thorn shrugs, puts his arm around Eir's shoulders, and continues down the passage.

fade to black...

"Um, Hello? Anyone in here? Who turned out all the lights?"

"Oh, I am not that ssorts of newtss." Serpico will not watch or touch, he waits outside briefly before returning to the bar.

He does let Karrin go by and then answers her, "they isss been frienss, closs frienss.

“Be careful lil’ robo,” calls Ashura, somewhat grumpily. “She likes taking things apart.”

O.L.L.I fingers a large hammer chased with raised silvery clockwork gear symbols that hangs from a strange bandoleer arraingement strapped to his middle section

Ha pulls our her sidearm, removes all ammo and slides it over to OLLI.

"Look, a lot of you guys in here are packing stuff that's just... medieval. What you need is one of these. Winchester, planet Earth, buddy. It shoots 12.7 mm chucks of depleted uranium that rip soft fleshies to pieces and all you gotta do is push the button."

"Even better, go down the hall and out the last door on the right and you'll find some serious badness. You guys probably shoot magic arrows and fireballs, right? Yah? You know what I'm talkin'. Well girl here (points at Ashura) has a frickin' mecha. Mechanical like you but way, way bigger and shootin' stuff that burns armies to cinders."

*Walks back the other way, hand stuffed into his loincloth scratching and trailing a horrid stink.

Ha pulls our her sidearm, removes all ammo and slides it over to OLLI.

"Look, a lot of you guys in here are packing stuff that's just... medieval. What you need is one of these. Winchester, planet Earth, buddy. It shoots 12.7 mm chucks of depleted uranium that rip soft fleshies to pieces and all you gotta do is push the button."

"Even better, go down the hall and out the last door on the right and you'll find some serious badness. You guys probably shoot magic arrows and fireballs, right? Yah? You know what I'm talkin'. Well girl here (points at Ashura) has a frickin' mecha. Mechanical like you but way, way bigger and shootin' stuff that burns armies to cinders."

She flounces out.

"they isss been frienss, closs frienss.

Serpico Fork-tongue III wrote:

"they isss been frienss, closs frienss.

"Er, ok, but why turn out the lights? Not everyone can see in the dark like you and me."

"Oh, I can see in the dark too hon'"

<Karrin hasn't looked into the room to see what her perceived new friends are up to but is getting an inkling that her companions aren't building pillow forts in the darkened bedroom>

If Karrin gets no reply she quickly makes her way back to the bar.

"uuuuuUUUUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!"

"ooOOOooo."

Are you! with a Bariaur! girl you nasty!

Ha pulls our her sidearm, removes all ammo and slides it over to OLLI.

"Look, a lot of you guys in here are packing stuff that's just... medieval. What you need is one of these. Winchester, planet Earth, buddy. It shoots 12.7 mm chucks of depleted uranium that rip soft fleshies to pieces and all you gotta do is push the button."

"Even better, go down the hall and out the last door on the right and you'll find some serious badness. You guys probably shoot magic arrows and fireballs, right? Yah? You know what I'm talkin'. Well girl here (points at Ashura) has a frickin' mecha. Mechanical like you but way, way bigger and shootin' stuff that burns armies to cinders."

"I have read several treasties on these types of weapons in the Lady's Library. Chemical-propulsive using either a charcoal/saltpeter/sulphur chemical compound, jewler's rouge or concentrated super-heated matter in a plasma form. Unfortuantely these weapons do not function in approximately 85% of the Prime Material Plane. While this is an impressive example, it is too specific and esoteric for this unit's needs. I am intrigued by the existence of another living construct in this zone. I must investigate further."

O.L.L.I wanders off towards the back hall