Discussion for this game.
Ah. The Corner Inn. A famed tavern noted for its food, beer, and its many dark corners for meeting places. It is known throughout Generica as a meeting place for adventurers and their various employers.
Of course, with its varied and powerful clientele, it is also known to see its fair share of action.
As you walk in, you see many people milling about, drinking and laughing. In the corner of the rooms (at least a dozen that you can see), adventurers meet with employers. A group of halflings meeting a ranger and wizard, A powerful looking mage whispering a prophecy to a knight, etc.
A busty barmaid greets you as you walk in.
"Hallo, I am Greta. May I take your order?"
A dashing man clad head to toe in chainmail under an immaculate bright red tabard strides through the door, taking no notice of the barmaid as he confidently surveys the patrons of the tavern.
Eventually he notices the barmaid standing nearby, "Ah, you there! A cold mug of your finest milk. From a horse mind, not one of those lesser beasts!"
He gestures around the common room, putting his hand on the hilt of his sword, "Tell me fair maiden, which of these gathered ruffians makes you fear most for your chastity? I shall gladly unman him for you!"
A strapping young man enters not long after. He is dressed in a knit cap with floppy ear covers and has a flannel shirt and sturdy pants and boots. He smiles a grin that shines through his bushy beard and nods to Greata.
Why howdy there Ma'am. I reckon I'd like a nice mug of ale and whatever stew you have over the fire.
Hello All, Quick question would you all prefer the absent minded blaster mage ala Fizban the Fabulous, the mysterious druid dude from the woods(Enchanter) or maybe something else?
A busty barmaid greets you as you walk in. "Hallo, I am Greta. May I take your order?"
A small, whipcord-thin, Tian man enters the tavern. If he tops 5'4" and weighs 130 pounds soaking wet, well, the joke would be on you. Because while you have his height right, he weighs in at a hefty 13 pounds (including negligible water weight). He wears a conical bamboo hat slung rakishly low over his eyes with a single lotus blossom tied to the brim. It is, sadly, the most fashionable part of his outfit. His clothes are a simple white cotton gi and grey hakama tied with a leather thong. His feet are shod in common leather flip-flops that strike the floor with a rhythmic fwip-fwip sound.
His dark, inscrutable eyes sketch the barmaid briefly, particularly her curves. He gives her a tight smile then nods politely as his hands come together in a lightning snap salute, stiff right hand meeting the bunched fist of his left, forming a pyramid before his eyes.
His voice is intense and somewhat staccato, "Your bosom impresses even the Gods, Greta. Greetings! I am Heiwa - the Iron Fist of Harmony. I would like some tea please... and to know what you are doing after work this evening."
"No man makes me fear my chastity any more, but a mug of horse milk and a mug of ale it is! Just sit anywhere you'd like and I'll bring it out to you"
She goes off behind the bar to get the drinks.
There seems to be plenty of things going on in the tavern. All sorts of adventurers are gathered here playing bar room games, drinking, and telling stories of their exploits. Being quite crowded, there is only a few tables open to sit at.
Glory gives the woman a slightly stupid looking half-smile, "Are you sure? I would be no trouble at all."
His smile turns to a look of total disappointment as she turns to leave, "Very well then, some other time I suppose..."
Regaining his humor quickly, he looks around the room once more before deciding on a table, inviting Clyde to join him, "Come, we shall have to share a table good sir. It is rather crowded in here isn't it? Must be having a sale on horse milk or some such."
"But of course, where are my manners. I am Glorian Honor, from the Realm of Poncy Knights. You've no doubt heard of me. And you would be?"
Clyde pumps Glorian's hand. Name's Clyde McClod! I'm a lumberjack and I hope thats ok. I'm just in for some fine vittles after a hard day's work. Don't think we got any horse milk around here but I'm sure we can find something else.
Clyde sits down and waits for his food.
Heiwa casually surveys the room from beneath the brim of his hat. A twinge of skepticism rolls through him regarding the prowess of some patrons. What can a few halflings accomplish with the aid of a bearded old man in a pointy hat?
The monk shrugs to himself and looks for an empty seat. There are few choices. He decides to sit next to the lumberman for the excellent reason that the man has a hat appropriately sized for his head. The flappy ears may display a flair for the unnecessary but the sturdy knit cap isn't ostentatious like all the high-n-pointy and large-brimmed affairs sported by the wizards in the tavern. A proportioned hat suggests a man with a proportioned mind.
Happy with his choice, Heiwa pulls a chair out for himself then springs over the back of it and lands in a sitting position. "Hello, strangers. I am a traveler from afar. I have come to share wisdom, learning... and your table."
A sudden gust of wind blows and into the door steps a tall elderly human wearing a matching blue robe and tall pointy hat with moons and stars all over, He is smoking a rather large pipe and carries an ornate staff with the head of a gold dragon on the top
He makes his way to a corner table by the fire that mysteriously keeps his face in the shadows until he takes a deep draw on his pipe which lights his face briefly in an orangish/reddish glow.
He smokes and looks around the tavern.
Glory returns the handshake with a firm grip, "Ah, the working man. Effort is it's on reward. Well met Clyde!"
He offers the newcomer to their table a smug smile, gesturing to his sword, "Ah but what more wisdom could a man need than that found in cold steel, friend?"
Clyde nods. A fine piece of metal is very usefil, I have a good axe with me every time I head off to work. Course I've heard some people put to much into it, like there is some Riddle of Steel, but pishtosh! Just good construction.
I say Greta my dear you are looking well this evening, be a dear and fetch me a glass of wine
*He will head over to the table with the 3 new arrivals*
Well met fair travelors, would you mind if I joined you?
Heiwa pushes out a chair ceremoniously for the newest visitor even as he responds to Glory with a smile, "Steel has logic but little wisdom. The wisdom is in whether to use steel and that rests in the heart of the man with the blade. Fortunately the heart can learn and apply many types of wisdoms."
*I will sit down*
Ah a philosopher from the east no, I have traveled through your region. I once had the honor of meeting the Emperor Hinzaku. A most gracious and wise leader
The monk nods and smiles non-commitally, "I am just a traveler... and I once had the honor of being ignored by Hinzaku's great-great-great-great-granddaughter." He belts out a short laugh, amused at the memory.
Grandaughter you say....The emperor seemed quite a young man to have grandchildren. Pardon an old man for prying but what brings you 3 to the corner inn?
Glory nods knowingly at Heiwa's comment, "Ah yes, 'tis the wise man who understands it is always better to lead with steel in hand, I see your meaning."
He simply shrugs at Getoff, "I've never had the pleasure to meet this emperor but I'll take your word on his character."
He brightens at the mention of his purpose, "I simply seek a place to rest my weary head in my quest to cast down the unrighteous and attain even greater honor! And you?"
@Glory:Ah yes adventure and honor, a noble and just pursuit, as for me...I seemed to have misplaced my reason
He begins frantically digging through his bag, sprawling scrolls and such across the table
Now where did I put that blasted purpose at...Well I guess it was not important. Cast down the unrighteous and attain great honor you say, sounds worthy to me. What is your name sir knight?
He strikes as noble a pose as one is able while sitting, "I am famed knight Glorian Honor, scourge of the wicked and paragon of masculinity! And you old one? I must say you have the look of a scholar about you. No matter, I'll not hold that against you. If you fight for honor that's well enough."
My name yes well, I am known by many names in different parts in the world In the elvish tongue it is Hanalei Celanil, in the dwarven lands I am known as The Iron Mage...Currently however my name escapes me, The last person who seemed to know my name called me Get off my lawn. a strange name no
A name is like a spell ...
Emerging from a shadowed corner struts a buxom sand-skinned half-orc with the best figure one has ever seen on a woman, or a half-orc, shuffling a deck of cards.
... Careful what they call you ...
As she reaches the table she takes some gold pieces out of her leather bikini top and gentley places them on the table, eyes locked on the monk.
... You might find its permanent.
@Greta Greta my dear, bring these good looking gentlemen a round, on me ...
"Pardon an old man for prying but what brings you 3 to the corner inn?"
It takes the monk a moment to catch up with the conversation. Translating from the local patois which sounded like gobble-gobbling into the divine language of his birth, formulating an appropriate response, and translating it back into gobble-gobble was hard work.
His first response to the wizard's question is literal. "Thirst and karma brought me here. I am on the path of enlightenment... or possibly vengeance. They are close cousins sometimes."
As she reaches the table she takes some gold pieces out of her leather bikini top and gentley places them on the table, eyes locked on the monk.
Some communication doesn't require pesky translation. The monk hops up and pulls out a chair for the sorceress.
"Please grace this seat with your assets." He says guilelessly.
Spying the attractive half orc sorceress, he seemingly snaps out of his dementia
My what a gracious offer, please have a seat my lady
well well, one at a time boys ... I had a sense this table was good company
She slips into the monks seat, and gestures the kind wizard to sit down.
thank you gentlemen. No need for introductions, I've been eavesdropping. <wink> My name is Sayyesss, I come from the desserts .... The hot, hot desserts ... And I've got a burning itch for a good adventure. It's been a while. Any ... big tips?
She sips a drink, doesn't care whos it was, and licks her lips.
*Takes heart medication*
Adventure...oh my why yes I have an adventure right here
*He starts digging through his pockets*
Now where did I put that pesky adventure..
careful wizard, you might live up to your name if you dig in those pockets too deep ... Tell me Heiwa, are enlightenment and vengeance kissing cousins? Cause I could def. get into that ...
Greta comes back with the drinks, passing them out to the group.
She leans on one of the chairs as she asks
"So what brings you all here to the Corner Inn?
I've been riding the lizard all night and needed some pillow talk ...
Picks up her drink
... I find my best stories always begin with me and a corner, one way or another ...
Sips, smacks lips
@greta If you want I can read your fortune later babe ... I'll give you a two for one, love AND destiny .... <winks>
... And you boys?
Why the fine food and company. Best ale and stew anywhere.
Outside the Corner Inn stood a tall elf who was leafing through a journal. Yes, yes, this is most certainly the place I was told about in Cobbleton. Lets hope there are some good jobs left for a fledgling adventurer as myself.... he thought after finding the name he had written in his journal a few days ago.
Uncertain of who or what he'll find inside this humble inn, he cautiously entered, journal still in hand.
He was pleased to see that the place wasn't brimming with adventurers, vying for a few measly jobs, so he relaxed a little.
His attention was drawn to the group who was talking with the barmaid, at which point he also sees Sayyesss, the Sorceress. He stood there a bit baffled while thoughts started rolling through his mind, What business does an orc have in this inn... Oh wait no, she is a half-breed. I had heard humans slept with anything that remotely resembles a female, but to sleep with an orc, the thought alone is horrifying. I must say she looks very different from what one would expect of such a pairing ... No, stop thinking that, she's still part orc, keep your wits about.
After this internal monologue, the elf had worked up the courage to walk up to the group.
"Greetings and well met, I am Variel Undovir of Illumnor, may I take a seat at this table in exchange for a round ..." he paused mid sentence, seeing the drinks standing in front of those seated at the table. Hmm, they already have drinks, what else could one offer as a way of appeasing ... ah, yes that will work "... bowl of stew for everyone?" That'll do, that'll do...
Standing behind the seat he had chosen he waits if the group accepts his offer.
The elf in front of you all stands 6 feet 5 inches tall. He has long dark hair, dark blue eyes and his face is covered in green elven tattoos.
He wears a pristine breastplate inscribed with elven lettering and upon his chest rests a golden necklace with a golden emblem in the middle, which resembles a sun.
A sturdy and well crafted longbow hangs affixed to his backpack, while at his side a beautiful elven curve blade rests in its scabbard.
One thing you also know about the elves of Illumnor is that most of them have at the very least a spark of arcane might. This allows them to create light at will. (like the cantrip)
@Variel in perfect elven Now what. I have already told Thanopsis that I will help him with his problem
A small, handsome halfling leaps 20 feet far and 4 feet up from the shadows of the room, backwards-while doing aerial cartwheels-and lands atop the table where everyone else is sitting, doing a handstand.
He asks barmaid for the finest wine available, then jumps six feet in the air, spins in midair , and lands perfectly.
"My name is Trakon Dwalin. I'm a... traveling acrobat. Nice to meet all of you!"
Yurian enters the small inn quietly, with little fanfare. He carries his armour bound together in a tight pack, his shield accessible and tied on outside the other straps that it might be removed.
The youth before you is tall, with blond hair that falls about his face unnoticed in perfect disarray. He has the face of a Prince, piercing blue eyes and a strong chin, though there does not appear to be any arrogance in his stride or posture. His face is young, very young, to be moving about alone with such arms and armour as he carries, but perhaps he is older than he looks?
The young man sets his bundle down to the side, leaving him with only his sword belted to his waist, and the medallion around his neck. It depicts the Lady of Light. He moves to the table with the others, and seeing an open space, gestures towards it.
"Might I join you? It has been a long trip, and I wouldn't mind the chance to speak with the brave souls who travel the roads, or to break break with the honest folk who work these lands. I am Yurian."
The youth's eyes are open and honest, and there is no sense of guile about the man. There is just something about him that seems to put the mind at ease.
The tavern door swings wide open and with it stirs a magnificent breeze. In silhouette stands a majestic, hulking figure. Long, blonde hair tosses about his broad shoulders in the wind. The outline of large, rippling muscles is elegantly back-lit by the beaming sunshine. The metallic glint of his weapons strapped to his back and waist enhance the beauty of his form. The breeze dies down and with this, his voice nearly booms:
"Greetings and salutations all. The rumors you've heard are true. Bohunk the Barbarian walks these lands. And here he stands. I am him. I am Bohunk. Bohunk, the Barbarian."
He strikes a mighty pose and flexes, veins in his biceps buldging.
"Do not feel obligated to contain your excitement. Bohunk is well used to praise."
Yurian: "Bohunk?"
Bohunk: "Bohunk!"Yurian: "Bohunk."
Bohunk: "That's right, Bohunk!"Yurian: "The Bohunk?"
Bohunk: "Yes!"Yurian: "Bohunk the Barbarian?"
Bohunk: "Yes!"Yurian: "The Bohunk the Barbarian?"
Bohunk: "Yes!"Yurian: "Never heard of you."
I've never heard of him either, but I don't need to hear him ... I can just watch!
She stands and slinks past yurian brushing very close to him.
@yurian ... Take my seat if you like young man ...
She slinks even slinkier up to Bohunk delicately placing one hand on a pectoral and the other on the tip of his swords handle.
@bohunk You got a good bonus on that thing?
@bohunk You got a good bonus on that thing?
Yurian watches the strange green skinned woman slink past, mumbling something about thanks, while realizing that his own navel desperately needs intensive visual study, at right this moment. A red flush begins to creep up his skin, passing up his neck and face until it has him beet red, right to the hairline.
He thumps down into the vacant chair, hurriedly shifting his sword, belt and tunic, before scooting his chair and the recently adjusted clothing in under the table and out of sight as quickly as possible.
Variel is a bit startled and also happy to hear someone speak his native tongue, he sits down in front of Getoff Mylawn. He replies in Elven, "You must be a great arcanist to speak of headmaster Thanopsis in such a familiar manner. I am not on an errant on his behalf, but now I wish I was, for it would mean he would still be amongst the living. It has already been sevaral decades since he passed away. But it is good to meet a colleague of his in these strange lands. What is your name good sir?"
While saying all of this, some of the new people arrive. It's good that I may at least have one friend here. The place is getting more crowded than i had expected it to be.
*He looks around at all the new arrivals with a look of mild confusion*
Is there to be a tournament today that I am not aware of, Greta why didn't you tell me of this
@Variel again in perfect Elven What's this! Thanopsis has passed on, Impossible I just spoke with him last week...or was it last month, either way... He seems to drift off My name..well that is a bit of a mystery last I heard it was get off my lawn by some angry fellow and what is your name, what brings you so far from illuminor
Last week, last month, I think this man's mind is living in the past... Variel thought after hearing Getoff speak of his last meeting with Thanopsis. He continued the conversation in Elven, "I am here to learn more of the people of these lands and their customs. But currently I am actually looking for adventure, that's why I came to this Inn."
@bohunk You got a good bonus on that thing?
"Haha, hahaha!" Bohunk's pectoral jiggles generously in the Sorceress's silky palm."Why yes! Of course, fair maiden. The magnitude of Bohunk's bonus is known far and wide!" With this, he places his hand over Sayyesss's, on his chest. He whispers to her softly "Some say there is no limit to the greatness of my bonus." He locks eyes with the Sorceress, and grants her a moment of silence to take in his majesty. Then he abruptly walks towards the nearest table "Now come! Shall we dine?"
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*mage hand: her glass from the table to her hand where she stands.*
Downs the drink in one swig.
looks like I'm gonna have my pick of the litter here today ... This barbarian is a chump, easy conquest ... The tall sexy elf is interesting, I've always had a weakness for the elven tongue .... This little blonde boy might have some money on him tho .... and the wizard ... I bet he knows a few tricks, I don't care how old he is, he looks like a freak on the low ...
She slinks towards where Bohunk has sat himself and notices Greta leaning over passing out drinks.
... mmmm, Greta ....
The floorboards overhead creak and even the beams let out a groan as some massive weight shifts on the second floor. The sound of someone loudly blowing their nose is followed moments later by someone messily clearing their throat.
A minute passes quietly before the creature responsible emerges from the stairwell. Whatever it is, it is huge. His head brushes the ceiling, even as he stoops to move down the straining steps. The first features to be seen is his dark greenish skin, long black hair, and a glimpse of glowing red eyes. He is only half dressed, in pants and shirtsleeves, though his cuffs are unfastened, and the shirt hangs open revealing his chest. A rough wooden medallion, depicting some sort of tentacled creature, like an octopus (some sort of sea deity?), swings on a leather thong next to his chest. While not armoured, he is somewhat armed, with a huge knife strapped to his hip (you've seen swords with less steel), and what looks like an oversized throwing axe stuffed in his belt.
Coming down the stairs as he does, he fills the entire space. Seeing such a creature in the light of day, you wonder that he doesn't get attacked on sight in most villages; he truly looks like a monster, ripped from your dreams. He stands closer to eight feet tall than he does to seven, and must weigh as much as two or three men. He resembles an orc at first glance, but that doesn't seem quite right; it is a resemblance only. It is more like a sculptor merely started with an Orc and then tried to see how much he could change it, and have it still remain orc-like. His skin is dark green, like the colour of evergreens, and his hair is dead black. The hair is straight and falls around his head all the way to his waist. Across his chest, and visible on his forearms there are shiny black disks, like scales or bone (carapace perhaps?). A long tail, as thick as a man's forearm, trails out from behind him. It is covered in suckers like a squid or octopus. His arms are much too large for his body, hanging to his knees, and looking like they were ripped off a giant and stitched onto his frame. His face has perhaps traversed the most distance from his origins as an orc. His eyes glow red, with a flickering intensity, as if a fire burns behind them. Around the outer edge of each brow there are three solid black shapes, like disks or orbs, and they shine as glossy as polished opals. He doesn't appear to have any ears to speak of, and his tusks and teeth are black instead of white (or yellow) they way most orc's would be. The tusks are thin and needle sharp, and look more like the fangs of a spider than the thick bony tusks sported by most orcs.
He sidles down a little clumsily, or perhaps drunkenly, down the stairs rubbing at his eyes. The wood of the stairs creaks in protest at the weight, but they hold for the time being. He elbows his ways past the half-orc woman and the barbarian, seemingly without seeing them. He barely mumbles, "Scuse me, tiny," edging the comparatively small man, massive as he'd be in any other company, out of his way to enable himself to reach a chair. He sits down at the nearest table, uncaring who might already occupy the space. He holds up a hand to signal the keep, and it hits the roof, even sitting down. He ignores the dust he disturbs there and calls out, "Keep! Meat; cooked or not, I don't care. And another of whatever I was drinking last night...hair of the dog..."
He takes a quick look around the table at the others and then returns to rubbing at his glowing eyes.
Yurian leaps to his feet when the large orc-thing sits down across from him at his table, his own chair skidding back from the table and clattering noisily to the ground. Steel rasps harshly as he pulls his sword free, gripping it in both hands in the absence of his shield.
"Back beast! Whatever hell spawned you, I shall not sit idle while you threaten these fair people. I swear that they shall have my protection, and that all the heavens will bear witness as I lay thee low!"