Swaggering up to the bar, Khalaban slammed down a coin with a clink! and grunted, "Ale! And keep it coming until the gold runs out." An obvious brag - at four copper pieces a mug the gold would produce more booze than even the massive Khalaban could consume - but it felt like something 'Khal' would do.
Meanwhile, as Khal swaggers in, the diminuitive Mynaem-- foxy ears hidden under the padded helmet, tail tucked (slightly uncomfortably) up along her spine-- wanders in behind him. She seems preoccupied, but not by anything in particular, and keeps trying to catch dust in the air.
Adriana eyes flashes momentarily over the gold piece and than to this strange spiky fellow assessing value...
The bartender doesn't take any notice of Maxilla, his attention entirely focused on 'Arveene'.
"No...I don't know what you mean."
"Well, darling, it's like this." The barkeep smirks. "Most folk who come here, come here because they know this place is where the real men--and women--about town come to drink. They're quite an exclusive club--and anyone who's anyone would love to be seen in their company."
"Ale! And keep it coming until the gold runs out."
The bartender promptly turns his attention to the large man at the bar. "Oh? Why, certainly, sir." He takes out a pair of tankards and walks over to a large cask behind the bar. He puts one tankard under the cask's spigot and opens it, then does it again with the other before bringing them both back to the bar.
"Two to start ya."
Khalaban looked at the ale for a moment. He'd seen enough blaggarts in inns to know what he should do, but it wasn't his idea of a good time. Still...it would help to show he was big, mindless and tough.
Reaching out one huge hand, he encircled the tankard and poured it down his throat in one long, amber stream without stopping for breath or spilling a drop. Once the tankard was empty he put it down - remembering at the last moment to add some force for that stupid bang they seemed to insist on - and picked up the next.
Once again the alcohol flowed down into his massive gullet. Khalaban was an experienced drinker and eater of fine foods, but doing two pints in such short order was rather brash, even for him. He felt his stomach rebel slightly as he lowered the second tankard and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "A start." he announced with bemusement, dangling the mug off on one finger for a moment before putting it next to the other.
"Hey big man...want to buy a girl a drink?" Adriana says with a bunch false confidence and a hint of desperation.
Khalaban looked over, at her, head still swimming a little from the trick he'd pulled, and starts to open his mouth to remind Adriana that she was always welcome to drink with him before his brain caught up with the fact he was meant to be playing a role, not simply having fun with his friends.
Instead, Khalaban gave her a smirk and looked her up and down. A little too quickly, and maybe the smirt wasn't as...lustful as it should be for someone of Adriana's appearance. "Yeah, why not. Barkeep! Serve the lady too."
Vixie practically dangles from the bar by Khal’s elbow. ”M-milk p-please”
Khalaban looked down at Vixie for a moment. "That too," he added, snorting a laugh.
Okay, totally just fitting in here. Just someone waiting for a server to take a drink order and then order whatever the house special is and and... I'm so not ready for any of this.
Max sits quietly and looks down at cloth-wrapped hands while waiting for someone to come over and take their order, or holler over at them.
Those two tall folk are probably going to do something mating related at this rate, and the shorter one would have made a drink come out of my snout if I HAD one. they consider as they watch the bar intently.
Adriana give Khal a smile and leans forward,"Thank you kindly sir. Is that your daughter?"
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Khalaban looked down. He was deeply uncertain of Vixie's genetics - he had assumed her Kitsune parents were adoptive, but given her recent...tail...he was no longer nearly so sure. He was fairly certain, however, the passing her off as a sibling wouldn't work if someone noticed she was, in fact, a Halfling.
"No, a travelling companion. She is occasionally entertaining." Khalaban considered snickering. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Even the worst blaggart usually had a core of decency somewhere, after all.
After a couple of minutes, a man in grey comes by your table.
"What'll you be having, then?"
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The barkeep arches an eyebrow at the fox-halfling hanging from Khal's elbow and snickers. "Sure, sweetie."
He fetches a pitcher from under the bar and a halfling-sized tankard and fills it up before refilling Arveene's drink. "You've got a knack for pounding down drinks, sir. How're you finding your stay in Tamran so far?"
Khalaban gave the barman A Look. "Dull." He glanced over at Adriana. "Not without some charms, though."
Keep it cool like a snow Dragon, Max.
"..Ale, please?" they whisper, as if terrified of saying too much and revealing their 'condition'.
Max keeps their cloth-wrapped hands hidden as much as they pull out some weathered silver coins to pay.
The server plucks the coins from your table and briskly walks away, coming back a scant few seconds later with two tankards of ale. "As requested."
"Dull, you say?" The barman smirks. "That's one way of looking at it, I suppose."
"I prefer to see it as an... opportunity to make your own enjoyment." He leans over the bar at Khal and Arveene. "I happen to know of a few people who'd very much agree with you."
Max sips at the ale from the leftmost tankard slowly, trying to minimize drunkeness given the body mass issues involved.
They will give the server a nod in thanks, too.
The kitling walks her elbows forward, still dangling by them, until she gets the tankard of milk in reach. She brings it toward her in a slow motion, arching her head upwards until she can sip from the lip of the cup.
She listens to the conversation with some interest, but doesn't seem to be keeping up.
Watching Vixie drink was always exciting, so Khalaban looked over at the barkeep. "A few people, huh? And who would these few people who might have something interesting to do be?" Tilting his head, he smiled slightly. "I am always looking for...oppurtunities for my enjoyment."
"Oh, they're a collection of discerning individuals who... well, let's just say they have an interest in seeing Tamran's wealthy being taken down a peg or two." The barman looks over to a door on the north wall of the common room. "They always think their money and connections are enough to let them do whatever they want to the smallfolk. What they have yet to learn is that their wealth isn't power... it's a grand, old target on their backs."
"If you've got an interest in something like that, give that door a knock and tell them Gillisam sent ya." The barman points at the north door.
Adriana who has finished her 2nd drink says slightly slured...."The smallfolkWait...are you saying there is a confederation of halfling...dwarves...and gnomes behind that door seeking revenge againstbtall people?...Sounds kinky."
Thinking to herself...Okay one more than I will be drunk...but not too drunk...
She than punches Khal on the arm...probably a little too hard..."You want buy a girl another drink?" She looks like around notices the other small figure sitting at the table and says,"Hey you.l.small guy want to join in...we are going to join the Short People Allaince!"
The barman laughs. "I mean the common folk, lass. It's an old Chelish term."
"Good," the towering Khalaban said as he gestured for more drinks to be served. He made a vague gesture to his own, massive height. "I don't imagine they'd let me join the other." He glanced over at Max, and looked away after sizing him up. Khalaban knew enough to put no measure on size - he was personally unsure if he could defeat Vixie, for example - but Khal seemed the sort to put stock in such things.
He eyed up the door. "Might as well knock. Little else to do...right now." Smirking at Adriana for a moment, he moved over to the door and banged on it.
Max hops down from their stool and carefully takes their two drinks with them -- no sense in letting them go to waste -- and joins the oddball combination of people while trying to keep their hands covered by their sleeves for the most part and the hood pulled up.
"Okay."
Her milk half-drunk, she slips off the counter and lands on the ground with a padded thud. Getting back onto her feet, she follows Khal, as she "always" does.
Adriana picks up her third drink and follows after 'Khal'.
A grumbling voice comes from behind the door as 'Khal' knocks on it.
"This room's for discerning ladies and gentlemen only. Piss off."
"Apparently we fit your bill. Gillisam sent us." Khalaban weighed up the option of insulting them - it was fitting - but decided to restrain himself and simply do the task as he had been given it.
There's a silence from behind the door.
Then there's a *click* and the door opens. Standing behind it is a man dressed in grey robes. His features are oddly smooth, with barely a hint of stubble on his chin and a drastically receding hairline. He looks the gathered party over before standing aside.
"He did, eh? Remind me to thank him later." He gestures to the room beyond. This room is more expensively furnished than the common room outside--a plush violet rug stretches from one side of the room to another. A large, octagonal table is in the centre of the rug, with several chairs around it. The table's surface is covered in a layer of green felt with gold sigils woven into the fabric. A couple of couches are near the room's far wall, and a large glass cabinet stands against the lounge's eastern wall, its shelves filled with bottles of various liqueurs.
Several people are already in this room--a shabby-looking human couple on one of the couches, two garishly-dressed gnomes sitting at the table playing cards, and a well-dressed half-elven man standing by the liqueur cabinet, looking rather sullen with a bottle in his hand.
"My employers will arrive shortly. Please, make yourselves comfortable in the meantime." The grey-robed man bows and returns to his post.
Grunting slightly, Khalaban moved over to the drinks cabinet to see if the Elf had already depleted it, or if there was anything left. He wasn't entirely sure what was going on now, but assumed there would be some kind of sales pitch on the cult. Until it was time to 'reform' under the cult he should keep up appearances.
Vixie totters past the doorway, not entirely certain she's supposed to be here at all. She looks around the room; like many rooms, this one's not designed with halflings in mind, but as always, she'll make due. She walks around the table a couple of times, before leaning toward one of the gnomes.
"A-are you winning, M-Miss?" she asks.
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Adriana enters the room with and says,"Hello Y'all, my name is Arveene." She than walks over to a unoccupied couch and lays on it seductively propped up on a arm rest. Drinking her drink...she seems confident as no one in the room matches her looks.
The liqueur cabinet hasn't been depleted yet--there are still several bottles of whiskey, wine, ale, mead and some other types of alcohol that you didn't know existed.
The half-elven man takes a look at 'Arveene' as she enters the room, takes a bottle of wine out of the cabinet and moves to approach her, his tailored coat flapping a bit behind him.
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"A-are you winning, M-Miss?"
"Oh, I'm not certain, really." The pink-haired gnome woman glances between you and the stack of small, multicoloured disks next to her cards. "I just know that whenever I show my hand, he turns the most adorable shade of red." She points at the white-haired and bearded gnome sitting across from her. He also has a stack of multicoloured chips--a much smaller one, to be exact. A vein is bulging in the gnome's temple and he's staring at her with an unmistakeable expression of impotent anger.
"Because she cheats! I swear!" He replies, his little hands balling up into fists.
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As you settle in to the couch, drink in hand, the well-dressed half-elf by the liqueur cabinet approaches you with a bottle of wine. "Pleased to meet you, Arveene--name's Draven." There's a cocky grin on his face, perhaps brought on by too much to drink. His stride is steady, however.
"Always nice to see someone with some class in here."
Picking up a bottle that looked expensive, Khalaban oppened it a grunt and took a swig. He glanced over at the Elf approaching Adriana, but didn't move. At least they knew the man had decent taste and eyes. Taking a swig, he moved over to the gambling. He was curious if the woman was simply good at bluffing or cheating well.
Max tries to find an area far enough away from everyone else so their 'deformities' can't be seen as they drink their first ale, eyeing the exit, the corners of the room, and the underside of the table.
They will, however, attempt to identify any overt religious symbolism in the room as they drink.
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Vixie looks between the two, then at the cards in the gnome woman’s hand. ”I-is it cheating w-when you only h-have a p-pair of t-twos, a four, and a s-seven?” she asks.
The temperature around the gaming table seems to drop by a couple of degrees as the gnome woman turns her head towards you, her expression stony. She doesn't say a word, but the chuckle of glee from the gnome across from her says all anyone would need to hear.
"All in!" He pushes his stack of chips to the centre of the table.
"...Fold." The lady grumbles, pushing her set of cards to the centre of the table, her eyes not leaving yours.
"For the record, no. It isn't. Blurting out what cards someone has in their hand, however, is."
The gnome gentleman scoops up the pile of chips in the centre and brings them back to his side. Their stacks of chips look much more equal in size now.
Vixie blinks at the exchange, then tilts her head. ”B-but... honesty is th-the best policy, I th-thought...” Her tail cozies up between her knees. If her padded cap wasn’t hiding her ears, they’d be downturned as well.
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Khalaban shook his head in amusement. Even the best-laid plans failed to survive first contact with Vixie.
"Hello Draven. So what brings you to this private club?" she does not move to room for him on the couch
Draven sits down at the other end of the couch. "Good booze, good atmosphere, and maybe a chance to stick it to some rich, snobby prick. Y'know, the finer things in life." He smirks and takes another swig of wine.
"I can already tell you're a woman of good tastes, seeing as how you came here."
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The gnome woman takes a look at your face and sighs. "Oh, dear, have you never played a game of Poker before?"
"Bluffing is half the point--and I daresay the appeal--of the game."
The kitling blinks in response, then has a look of dawning understanding.
"O-oh... oh! ...I-I'm s-so sorry, M-Miss!" she squeaks. "M... m-maybe I could win it back?"
The gnome woman shakes her head. "That's... kind of you to offer, but you don't have to."
Vixie grins ear to ear; she’s already bringing over another stool! Oh no!
The gnome woman looks at you in confusion as you bring over another stool. Her opponent chuckles.
"Well, fancy that. Let's deal."
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Before the dealing can begin, the door to the lounge swings open, and a large shadow falls upon the room. Standing in the doorway are three men, each dressed in thick grey robes and wearing black iron masks. The leader is wearing a holy symbol in the shape of a white mask similar to the mask he's wearing.
"Welcome, aspirants." The leader steps into the room and turns his head to take in the occupants. "Today, you have taken your first step into a larger world."
The gambling gnomes freeze before beginning to gather up their chips.
"Th-the world of poker?"
Adriana perks up at tne arrival ofthe masked men...she gives them a flirtatious half smile.
Khalaban looks over, tilting his head in consideration as the man entered. Looked like they were in the right place.
Max will work on their second beer while eyeing the masked figures, the exits, and the other folks in the room warily, keeping their hood up and their hands out of sight as much as possible while doing so.
The robed leader doesn’t appear to have heard Vixie’s whisper. Or if he has, he doesn’t respond.
”You have been called here because you understand, in your heart of hearts, that our cause is just. You know that your beloved city—the very capital of your nation—is diseased.” He begins, taking a couple of steps into the room and allowing his robed & masked bodyguards to fan out to either side of him. ”You have born witness to the excesses of the greedy, the arrogant and the faithless—those who see themselves as being beyond such virtues as charity and compassion. The men and women of Tamran who gild themselves in gaudy jewelry and baubles, who clothe themselves in the trappings of aristocracy without understanding of what that means.”
”One is elevated to the ranks of the aristocracy when they understand the meaning of duty: when they understand that they have a responsibility to safeguard their lesser from the evils of the world—bandits, monsters, calamity and treachery.” He practically spits the last four words. ”We have walked the streets of this city, as you all have. We have looked upon those who call themselves ‘nobility’, and we have found them… lacking.”
”What noble would remain within the guarded walls of his estate when foreigners intrude into our beloved Nirmanthas without consequence? What noble would turn a blind eye to the alleys and gutters, where the innocent are trod upon by those with wicked intentions?” He asks.
Draven stands up. ”A coward, that’s who!”
”Indeed.” The leader rests a hand upon his iron mask. ”We, the faithful of Razmir, have come under a banner of peace. As the Living God walks among His people to protect and guide them, so do we walk among you. Today, you have all taken the first step upon the stair of Enlightenment—the path of righteousness, of duty, to power and glory.” He spreads his arms wide. ”Step forward, those of you who have the courage to continue on this path.”