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=========NEW TAVERN RP FOR MINI-AP APPLICANTS=========
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You all in the Sitting Duck.
The Tavern has 8ft high ceilings and a warm fire running in the middle of the Tavern.
Carth sits at the bar, sword leaning up against his stool. Carth makes a surprisingly striking figure for a man of his stature. Notably he has a pair of small horns holding back long white hair, currently tied up into a loose bun. He holds a tankard of some sort of grog-esque brew, and is talking to a small group around him, maybe a bit too loud.
"-The thing is a dragon ain't afraid of nobody, and of course everything is afraid of a dragon, even them say they don't! I'm telling you the wyrms have it figured out!."
He drains his cup, "barkeep! Another round for me and my friends here"
Duke:
Duke replies
"I assume that is another round of Dragon Ale for your table?"
Mahonrai, leaning against the wall observing the bar patrons, speaks up in a voice that doesn't seem loud, but which pierces through all other conversation when it is directed at you, and which seems to imbue everything he says with some kind of power or authority
Looking over, you see what could only be an angel. He is about seven and a half feet tall, and though he looks like a human in many ways, no human could be that perfect, or have that inner radiance, as though the very sun had its source within his being. He is difficult to look at for that reason.
It seems that he is trying to make small-talk, and he smiles encouragingly, but his very imposing presence tends to make it difficult to realize that he isn't delivering a pronouncement or an order.
He says again, as softly as is possible, trying to modulate his presence to be less overpowering,
What do the wyrms have figured out?
At the loud pronouncement of the angelic being, a smaller figure sitting at the bar freezes in place. Is that-- is that an ANGEL?!?
The young woman is wearing a hooded cloak, hiding herself as best she could in the company of strangers. The Lady Cirthana had insisted she go out and mingle with the population of Falcon's Hollow. It was something she had greatly enjoyed doing in her old home of Piren's Bluff. But that had ended disastrously. But after weeks of secluding herself in the small shrine to Sarenrae the Lady had allowed her to fashion outside the Temple to Iomedae, she had finally insisted she go outside.
Ashlyn had finally relented, but opted to wrap herself in a dark cloak and sit sullenly at the bar, nursing a drink that she no longer needs to sustain herself, full of an alcohol that she is now immune to. More things reminding her of what she now was. But she was out among people, and she was content to watch and listen to the various conversations. The man chatting about dragons had piqued her interest, and she had turned her head to listen to him.
And then the angel made himself known.
She trembled involuntarily, and slowly turned her head back away from him, heart pounding in her chest. Could he tell what she is? What will he do if he knows? Or finds out?
Her shaking hands clutch her mug and bring it to her lips. She finishes her drink and then eyes the exit.
Brunhild quietly sipped her ale. She was dead broke, and Carth was paying. As per their deal Laurel was providing room and board...but she wasn’t paying. The Barbarian cursed herself and Laurel for the thousandth time for the arrangement. No pay meant no alcohol. It was almost enough to drive her to make her own moonshine, which she knew from experience usually wasn’t worth the trouble. Which was why she sat in the tavern, nodding along.
She was also quiet due to her drinking companions. Carth always had a presence which naturally commanded the spotlight. The monk had that easy going way of making everyone want to listen to him. But the stranger? The one who towered over even her? He was...disconcerting. Beautiful to the point where she was embarrassed to look. Not due to attraction though. He was far too perfect for that. Rather being near him made her feel...mortal, somehow. If it wasn’t for the free drink she would have likely left already.
”They have nothing figured out. If they did they wouldn’t live in caves.”
Mahonrai sees that his presence has caused concern, and walks over and lays his hand on the shoulder of the young woman in the hooded cloak who trembled at his presence.
I am sorry. I am trying to become reaccustomed to the mortal realm. My name is Mahonrai. Can I do you any service to make up for frightening you?
He looks up at the next comment and says to Brunhild (though he doesn't know her name yet):
Ah, so... where would you live if you had it figured out?
Joanne walks into the sitting Duck though she bends down some to get under the Doorframe with her 7 foot tall stature and beauty.
Joanne mumbles to herself some as she approaches the bar
"Stupid satyr and his enchanted fruit...."
at the Bar she asks
"Duke can I have an Ager's 11 please....
That stupid Satyr pulled another prank and I ain't laughing from it.."
Duke:
Duke replies to Joanne
"Sure, just tell me what the prank was..."
”What?” Brunhild put her mug down and stared at the stranger. ”Reaccustomed? Her mind raced at the information. Did this stranger find the secret to eternal youth? No. He had already died before. Maybe...a reincarnation spell? A wish? It would explain why he looked so blindingly perfect. She thought about asking him, but quickly decided against it. Her fight against age and death was her fight. Whatever path the stranger had taken was his own. She would earn her victory.
Quickly recovering, she offered a nervous smile. ”I wouldn’t live anywhere. I’d see everything the world has to offer. And when I was done I would see it all again just to see what changed. But then again, I don’t have it figured out. Yet. The name is Brunhild, by the way.”
Joanne replies with an angry face to Duke
"I will not say what the prank was, except that it used enchanted fruit..."
Ashlyn starts as the angel places his hand on her shoulder. It suddenly itched terribly and she thought she could feel something under her skin twitch. She turns and looks at him, wide-eyed.
But he didn't appear hostile, or even really aware that she cannot call herself mortal. She swallows, not sure how to answer his question.
"Ah, nothing. It was my mistake to react as such by your presence. I am (Soot blown across the fire-scorched earth) A-Ashlyn Farwynd. Devotee of Sarenrae."
Duke:
Duke replies to Joanne
"Fair enough..."
gets the drink for Joanne and gives it to her
"Enjoy it on the house, since I know your hard to get angry and some of his pranks do go to far."
To Ashlyn:
Nice to make your acquaintance, Ashlyn. And Sarenrae is well chosen.
I have taken messages to her before. She is very gracious. What do you do in town?
____
To Brunhild:
Ah, yes, Brunhild. To see the world. I have been enjoying it greatly. I have visited many parts of the world as a messenger for the Gods, and there seems to be glorious beauty in so many different places and within so many different people. It is a good dream.
____
Mahonrai is surprised to see a woman that comes even close to his stature enter. He nods to Joanne (over the heads of everyone else)
Greetings.
Joanne notices the Tall new comer
Joanne replies
"Greetings, Your not from around here I take it."
You can sense she's not like everyone else, a bit like Ashlyn but more chaotic.
You can sense joanne is a bit like you in some way, but it is also different and chaotic.
When the tall stranger speaks up in the corner Carth seems to forget completely about hi previous conversation. He whistles and hops off his stool, careful not to spill his drink. Running up to Mahonrai he extends a hand a speaks excitedly in celestial.
Carth smiles broadly, looking up at the angel, who towers over him. Seemingly remembering the previous conversation he turns back to the room, speaking to no one in particular.
"they've been around forever, if they're still living caves it's cause they want to. You can bet your ass if they wanted to live in a bi fancy castle they would."
Joanne adds
"Please no swearing in the bar, especially with this tongue."
And starts drinking her Ager's 11.
"Nice to meet you as well. I'm unused to meeting angels in bars." Ashlyn gasps, the reality of this angel standing before her sinking in. "I tend a small shrine to the Dawnflower here. If you've truly been in her presence, then I'm ashamed for it's modesty."
When she sees the other woman, Joanne, she suddenly looks bewildered as if not trusting what her senses are telling her. What is something like her doing here? Wait. What am I doing here?
"What is this place?" she whispers to the angel.
To Joanne:
Well, originally I was a mortal, but... no, I've been living on the Astral Plane ever since becoming an Angel. It is interesting to be back. I sense that you are not altogether human yourself. Forgive me if it is rude... it has been so long, I don't remember the formalities... but may I ask what your nature is?
To Carth:
Yes, I am a real angel. Nice to meet you.
Mahonrai doesn't say anything himself about the foul language (he just ignores it entirely), but nods approvingly when Joanne speaks up.
(Still to Carth):
So, would you live in a castle or a cave, given the choice?
To Ashlyn:
Mahonrai grins.
I suppose that it would be unusual. Most angels probably do not come into bars. A shrine to Sarenrae. I would love to see it. Do not be ashamed. Modesty is to be favored over garish excess, and a sincere heart over false protestations of dramatic love, do you not agree?
When Ashlyn asks "What is this place?" Mahonrai responds, trying to whisper back to her, but his piercing voice just doesn't whisper very well:
This is the place where we are meant to be at this time. Sinashakti assures me of it, and I am sure if you asked Sarenrae, she would also agree.
Joanne replies
"It is rude to ask that, especially before an introduction of ones self."
"It is rude to ask that, especially before an introduction of ones self."
I apologize sincerely. I realize now that you walked in after I had introduced myself. My name is Mahonrai, lately of the Astral Plane and messenger of the gods. I serve Sinashakti, god of joy, who has sent me on a mission to this place. Please forgive my rudeness, and I thank you for instructing me.
Joanne then introduces herself
"I'm Joanne Anna Noya Aiba, farmer and lumberjack.
And worshiper of Kurgress.
And as Far as I'm concerned I'm Ulfen, though I could be aasimar."
"Well I dunno if either really suits me. Although a nice cave if you throw some furs in there, maybe add a door. I think that could be pretty cozy."
Carth returns to his seat and looks up at Joanne.
"Soooo, enchanted fruit huh? Back where I trained we had these enchanted grapes that could Fu-, uh, could really mess with your head. What kind of magical fruit was it?
And is no one else wigged out that everyone here is like seven feet tall, whats in this ale? Am I going to grow?"
Brunhild turned back to her ale. Am I the only normal person here? She almost laughed at the thought. She had come here to learn alchemy, and had expected a sleepy town full of lumberjacks and farmers. And here she was, in a bar filled with angels and aasimar and who knew what else. She took another sip. She half expected to wake up any second, so she might as well enjoy the ale before then.
Joanne replies to Carth blushing as she recalls the effects of the fruit
"Let's just say it changes things and can wreck things.
What your calling enchanted are just drugs or poison.
Most folks here are normal sized, there are just a few exceptions."
Nice to meet you, Joanne.
Kurgess. I've always liked him. I have a thing for archery, and he's popular among archers. A nice choice.
A small, hooded figure enters the tavern and looks around. She notices the obvious angel in the room, and instinctively pulls her hood lower in an attempt to hide her horns. However, seeing nobody being obviously in need of being removed from the tavern, she walks up to the end of the bar and leans against the wall. She mutters to herself in a voice that is just loud enough to be heard by those at the bar
Дамн, тэд өндөр. Би өнөөдөр шөнөжингөө салах ёсгүй гэж найдаж байна.
Speaking to Duke, in Common she asks
Anyone needin' to be kicked out yet, Duke?
Duke:
Duke replies to Zegenva
"Nope not yet."
Ashlyn gives the towering angel a small smile and pushes a lock of hair behind her ear when he sets her at ease regarding the modesty of her shrine to Sarenrae. "I do agree, especially for simple folk who would not appreciate such excess. And truthfully, the shrine is just for my sake at this point. I'm not aware of anyone else in this town who openly worships the Dawnflower."
Ashlyn looks chagrined. "I'm afraid I'm not familiar with Sinashakti. I'm sorry."
When the angel turns his attention to the other patrons in the bar, she tilts her empty cup to her mouth, looks at it mournfully, then sets it back down.
As other patrons begin to trickle in, Ashlyn begins debating about whether she should have another or slip out. She could report back to Cirthana that she had a couple drinks and spoke with an angel. Surely, that would satisfy her.
Someone muttering in Infernal caught her attention. Wait. I understood that. How can understand that? I've never learned it! A river of ice runs along her spine as she glances in the speaker's direction, but quickly turns away. She whispers to herself quietly.
"Testing, testing. I'm really speaking in the language of devils."
She shudders involuntarily.
|
Anatoli moves into the tavern with a quiet air of confidence neither pronouncing his arrival nor denying it either, simply one moment not there and the next moment he was. He eyes the inhabitants of the tavern with their chit chat and ambles up to the barkeep saying:
something to warm the body and embolden the soul, friend?
Mahonrai turns his attention back to Ashlyn. No worries. Sinashakti isn't one of the major gods. Not all have heard of him. He is the god of joy, and of journeys, and of messengers. He sometimes trains the angelic messengers, such as myself. He raised me from a human to an Angel. I am sure that my mission here is another training exercise. I just need to figure out what I am to learn.
Were you... did you understand what the hooded girl said? I ask only to be sure there isn't some misunderstanding I need to clear up. I know that some might hate me just for being what I am.
To Duke, Zevenga says in Common
Fine, just tell me when someone does. And if ye don't mind, I'd like a bite o' food to eat.
Not hearing Ashlyn whispering to herself, and ignoring the questions of the angel, Zevenga will unlimber her greatword from her back, taking care that her cloak continues to conceal her horns and tail. Leaning the still sheathed sword against the bar, she will sit on a stool at the end of the bar, against the wall.
Duke:
Duke replies
"Sure go ahead, you've not had a break for a good while now."
Ashlyn stares, fascinated, at the angel. "Wow. What did you do to earn that honor? You must have been a very good soul indeed."
She pauses and thinks on what Mahonrai said about his mysterious training exercise. "You don't know what your lesson is? How will you know if you've learned it? I've heard that angelic hosts are often cryptic with their messages. If this is how they train, then I can see why," she observes.
When the angel asks about the Infernal muttering she overheard, she shakes her head. "No, I don't think so." Listening to the interplay between the bartender and the hooded woman further, Ashlyn concludes, "I think she's the bar's bouncer. So I suppose she isn't used to seeing angels in bars either."
As the food is brought out to the bouncer, Ashlyn's own stomach growls but only out of the memory of food, not out of a need for nourishment. She pulls a pair of silver pieces out, rubbing them together absently as she debates using them to order her own. Should I? It's not like I need to eat anymore, so why bother? Why should I pretend?
She softly clears her throat to get the attention of the bouncer a few bites into her meal. "Um, how is it?"
The small woman stiffens slightly, seemingly unused to being addressed directly. She gently puts down the simple wooden spoon she had been using to eat the soup in front of her. Turning to look Ashlyn in the eyes, she says (in Common)
The food is good. If you are wonderin' whether you should get any, I would recommend it.
Her pupils contract to be thin slits, and she asks
I haven't seen you here in the Sittin' Duck before, are you new in town? Or just shy?
"Eh, drugs, enchantments, it can be hard to tell the difference once under the influence."
Carth heads over to the bar.
"So Duke, what's the gossip right now? Any exciting drama I've missed?"
Duke:
Duke replies to Carth
"You'll find out when I do..."
"Wow. What did you do to earn that honor? You must have been a very good soul indeed."
I wasn't evil or anything, of course, but I think if Angelic messengers were chosen for pure goodness, then there were probably people better than I was. I think it must be more complicated than that. I was chosen because I would be good at this particular job... being a messenger. And whatever else I am meant to do now... which might be different. This brings me joy. It might not bring joy to everyone, and if it isn't something you would love to do, then you would never be asked. Does that make sense? There is plenty of work to be done... might as well choose people who *want* to do it. :)
"You don't know what your lesson is? How will you know if you've learned it? I've heard that angelic hosts are often cryptic with their messages. If this is how they train, then I can see why,"
Mahonrai laughs. Cryptic indeed... sometimes. I think it depends on what message people need. Some people need a clear message, and some need something to chew on for a long time. The gods know which, and we are so instructed. As to how I will know... the same way people get answers to prayers, right? Do you not feel the presence of your god from time to time, giving you nudges or hints, pushing you in a certain direction? The more you listen to and follow those promptings, the more connected you become, until... you know because you feel it.
Mahonrai nods at the information about the hooded woman, and sits down beside Ashlyn to listen and learn more about this place.
With Carp talking to Duke and Joanne, and Zagenva drawn into a conversation with an angel and a hooded stranger, Brunhild sighed. Her free drinks were over. If nothing else Joanne knew how to talk to people and to be in the spotlight. When she came in the place looked at her. The only way Brunhild could do that is if the place required decent clothes, or if she was killing someone. Fighting for attention was just not a game she could play.
That, and she half expected the bouncer to eventually see how far angels could fly. Then the party would be over and a new one would begin. Brunhild made sure her brass knuckles were still with her as she resisted the urge to smile. There were times where Brunhild wanted to take out her sword and to start insulting Zagenva just to start a fight. She looked so strong and capable. Brunhild just didn’t know if she could win that fight, and that made her feel alive. She looked down at her cup. It was the ale talking. Whenever she drank it made her want to get into a fight. It was probably just as well that she was too broke to afford any more cups.
Deciding to enjoy her last drink, she slid over next to Antoli. It was good to see another normal person here. Even if his leather armor looked weird. But he also had a Greatsword on his back, which to Brunhild meant that he was her kind of person.
”Glad to see a normal person here. It feels like the tavern has been crawling with aasimar, angels and priests tonight. Name’s Brunhild. Alchemist.” She didn’t look like a traditional alchemist. What with the hide shirt, the Greatsword on her back, or the tribal tattoos. ”Who’re you. And do you know how to use that?” She pointed to the sword on his back.
The small woman stiffens slightly, seemingly unused to being addressed directly. She gently puts down the simple wooden spoon she had been using to eat the soup in front of her. Turning to look Ashlyn in the eyes, she says (in Common)
The food is good. If you are wonderin' whether you should get any, I would recommend it.
Her pupils contract to be thin slits, and she asks
I haven't seen you here in the Sittin' Duck before, are you new in town? Or just shy?
"A bit of both, actually," Ashlyn says with a sheepish smile. She passes the coins to the bartender in exchange for her own bowl of soup. She breathes in the hearty aroma of stewed meat and vegetables for a moment before her first spoonful.
She tries hard to not let the disappointment show on her face when the stew turns out to be as tasteless as she's found all food since her transformation. It made a certain amount of sense; she was in a damned vessel. Despite her apparent redemption and continued acceptance by her goddess, this unnatural body she found herself in was still that of a devil. And the pleasures of good food was apparently denied her.
She forces a smile to the bouncer and nods, feigning enjoyment in the meal.
She turns back to the angel on her other side, pleased that her earlier comment had made him laugh.
"I feel Sarenrae whenever the sun shines on my face. I hear her... less frequently. But I can channel her gifts through my hands and her symbol, so I hope to be able to continue her work. Although I truly cannot fathom how, unless it's in the winning of drinking contests," she mutters bitterly, pushing away the half-eaten bowl of stew.
I feel Sarenrae whenever the sun shines on my face. I hear her... less frequently. But I can channel her gifts through my hands and her symbol, so I hope to be able to continue her work. Although I truly cannot fathom how, unless it's in the winning of drinking contests.
You don't like yourself very much, do you? Why is that? What do you feel is in between you and joy?
Her mouth works, shocked as she is at the brutal question. She slowly pulls her hood back, wondering if he could see what she sees every time she looks into a mirror. Her sun-kissed hair, now a raven black. The blue and purplish bruises around her neck from where the ropes had dug into her skin now appearing as a permanent, grisly design.
"It's an unpleasant story," she says, the corners of her mouth turning down into a tight frown.
I like your hair. You should leave your hood down and not hide it.
If you don't want to tell your story, I'm not trying to pressure you. But no matter what happened to you, it is all part of the pattern. Who you are right now is a blessing, and you can choose to be whoever you want to be. Though we have suffered, we may yet choose joy. Is it not so?
Speaking to Ashlyn, Zegenva says
So, ye've got an unpleasant past? Then leave it there. Think about now and stop worryin' about how the mistakes in your past, be they yours or those of another, can affect your future. That is what I have done to get by.
Steeling herself against the reaction that she expects to get, at least from the angel, Zegenva pulls back her hood, revealing her horns and eyes.