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It's your typical Port Peril evening at the Formidably Maid: loud, crude, and full of booze and song. In one corner is a jauntily decorated gnome woman, whose hair many of the drunk sailors keep suggesting looks like it was washed in red wine and grape must, is attempting to lead the drunken patrons in a rousing rendition of the obliviously appropriate song Drunken Sailor.
There is a lone dwarf working the bar, most likely the keep, from the way he has tossed out one especially rowdy patron. He nods to each patron as they enter but mostly focuses on cleaning the bar or sending a serving wench to comply with orders.
And the characters can enter at any point and off we go.
A newcomer walks into the tavern, a cloak pulled tight around his body. The parts of him that you can see, though, are certainly likely to draw attention. His body isn't visible beneath his cloak, and he wears a dark brown, wide-brimmed hat pulled down over his brown eyes. Every visible part of his body, though minimal, is covered in a fine layer of red-brown fur and The end of a tail protrudes from beneath the hem of his cloak, twitching back and forth slowly. His feet are bare, revealing long, well-articulated digits more akin to hands than they are to feet. His face has a decidedly simian quality to it.
His immediate demeanor is mixed, his body language seeming to indicate hesitance and unsurety, while the way his head moves here and there, the way his eyes dart to and fro, seem to be indicative of a deep curiosity.
At the dwarf's nod, he nods in return, though rather than approach the bar he looks for whichever group seems to be having the most interesting conversation, filtering slowly from patron to patron.
The blond mopped Elven lass skips into the tavern, gives a jaunty wave to the fellow in the cloak, before standing on her tippy-toes and craning her neck obviously looking for some one.
Thunk...thunk...thunk...thunk...
The rhythmic sound of wood hitting wood resonates clearly as someone new enters the tavern. Dressed in a rugged coat that hangs to the knees, the opened nature of it currently flaunts a tightly belted linen shirt and a comely figure underneath, the dark haired woman adjusting her backpack before heading for the bar.
Thunk...thunk...thunk... goes the peg leg on her left, the woman walking as naturally on it as if it was her own flesh and blood foot, sliding onto a stool at the bar counter. She leans forward, a silver spiral hanging off from her neck and drawing attention below it. "Rum, and leave the bottle," She demands before sitting back, glancing around the place. The peg leg is crossed over one knee, her elbows leaning against the bar.
The deeply tanned woman reaches under her coat and draws a plain dagger to work at her nails, digging carefully underneath them to get rid of unwanted dirt, flicking the refuse to the floor. Once she gets her bottle and cup, she turns around, pouring herself a decent portion, before lifting it up and slamming it back all at once, blowing hard as it burned down her throat.
"That is just terrible rum. Did they distill it out of a sahaugin's ass?"
A rather short fellow of obviously Halfling decent glides into the bar. Dressed in clashing colors that jar the eye, he seems unconcerned of the eyes the follow his entrance, probably because he has very little to steal besides the crossbow at his hip, but they didn't know that. His feet ached after having walked the last few miles into Port Peril today, and he was still picking seaweed out of places from being tossed a few days ago.
Returning the nod from the barkeep, his eyes scan the bar for anyone of note, and they definitely note the Gnomish lass showing off her skills for the crowd. Finding a seat as close as he can to the show, he barely notices the wench poking a bony finger in his ribcage asking him what he wants to drink. "Uhh, something that'll put hair on my... uhh" he mutters, looking at his arms and feet, "Chest, yeah, some hair on my chest!" I think I have some room there, otherwise it might start showing up on my back, and that won't go over well with the ladies. Once the slip of a girl has scurried off to fetch his drink, he sits back and enjoys the show, feet rocking back and forth to her song.
Growing bored of the show, the Halfling looks around the room for someone interesting to chat with. Giving a nod to Suny, having seen her around these parts before, his eyes settle on the undine. A wide grin forms upon his face. Sauntering up to the lovely lady, he gives her a once over, pausing momentarily at her holy symbol and then again at her leg. "Since I'm sure someone endowed with Pharasma's gifts wasn't born with such a limb, would you care to share what is surely to be a riveting tale with a humble traveler of the seas?" he asks with a slight bow, his bushy eyebrows waggling. That's it Bram, lay it on thick, make her melt.
After a bit, a short red woman with stubby horns on her head and a tail that ends in a barb of soft fur enters.
She surveys the occupants. Barkeep, a man of great importance, a smart monkey? Ooooh, he has a tail, I like him already, a cheerful looking elf, a rather attractive woman with a peg leg and a short man to finish it off. Now for the important question, who do I sit near. The short guy was obviously hitting on the woman with the peg leg, but she looked capable enough. I have to know.
Deciding, the red woman walks to the bar and sits next to the fellow with the tail.
"I'd like an ale, please."
She sips from it, then takes another sip, then drains her glass.
"That was lovely. What else do you have?" she asks the barkeep cordially.
Turning to the nice fellow with the hidden tail, she asks "Hello, my name is Eloise, are you new in port?"
When the red woman enters, Bramzit tries his best to prevent his eyes from boggling. A blue woman and a red one, my my, Just need a green one and we'll have a really interesting night! He then tries to turn his attention back to the Pharasman, awaiting a response.
The woman glanced down at the halfling with one brow cocked up, before she poured herself another serving of the rum from the bottle. "So, your very first line to a woman is 'tell me how you lost your leg'? You're a rather insensitive man, aren't you?" She asked him before taking a sip, wincing at the burn a bit.
"I'll give you some free advice, seeing as you probably need it. If you're going to hit on a woman, don't start off by asking them about what might be a traumatic experience for them. I'll let you take a moment to get the boot out of your mouth." She grins a bit, taking another sip.
Sunny, having not found/seen the person she's looking for, has ambled over to the bar where she's ordered her usual tankard of rum. Listening in to Brazmit's comments to the lass who's seated she can't but over hear their conversation. She blinks. (O_o)
"Wait? Y'mean some feller be doin' that t'ye after ye went an' kicked 'im in'a head?" The blond Elf can't but help but ask the question, though given her 'accent' it's a wonder just how well she understood everything that was said.
"Geez...I knew that 'Chumly' feller from t'other night looked nasty..." She mutters.
As you all enjoy your drinks and share stories of past, or not share, the door to the tavern crashes open loudly with a kick.. A large shaggy man with multiple tattoos and an eye patch enters.. The frown on his face does nothing to improve the mood in the air.. "Bartender! Baijiu! Now!" As he approaches you all get a waft of unbathed ass and sea salt.. Obviously he's been at sea for quite some time.. Grabbing the bottle he bites the cork off and takes a large pull before slamming it down and belching loudly.. Looking around the room he quickly notices odd races in the room.. "Krul not seen you all here before.. Must be looking for a fight coming down to the Formidably Maid on drinking night! Or maybe yalls looking for work eh? Looking to try out yer sea legs?"
The smile never leaves Bramzit's lips as the woman berates him for his manners, "Funny thing is, you come to a known pirate tavern and preach about manners. My boot's not in my mouth, because I said what I meant. I'm a straight shooter, probably one of the few you'll find in these parts. I was curious how you got your leg, so I asked. If your past is too terrible to talk about, yet you live with that reminder daily, you're a special kind of mental then. Good night." he replies, turning away.
As the brash man enters, Bramzit barely contains a laugh. The first rowdy appears. I wonder how many more there will be tonight? "Krul, do you often speak in the 3rd person? Not to be rude, but it makes you seem kind of dumb."
Sunny blinks...and thence slooowly edges away from any sort of direct path between Brazmit and 'Mr Musk'...(>_>)
Pari watches the rude little halfling as he leaves and goes up to the tough looking pirate. "...for someone who says he doesn't like the taste of leather he keeps putting that boot in his mouth. Either that, or he's looking to expedite his journey to my lady's embrace," She comments mostly to herself, pouring herself another cup of rum and sipping from it.
She glances over at the blonde elf, waggling the bottle of rum she has in one hand at her. "If you want to share, I'm getting a table...a bit away from the bar..." She tells her, the rhythmic thump of her wooden leg following her towards some empty seating.
Eloise looks like she has made a quick decision.
"Barkeep, lager, if you have any, otherwise, porter."
She moves to the other side of the man with the tail, away from the short guy and the loud guy. If a fight breaks out, she's as far away from it as possible and still be at the bar.
With the shaggy man apparently having become tongue-tied over the Halflings comments, Bramzit shrugs a bit and goes over to one of the seemingly infinite number of empty corners and pulls out his juggling balls, practicing a few tricks with them, all the while keeping an eye on the rager incase he take offense to his earlier comments.
Krul listens to the small man's jibe before taking a drink.. "Iz tells yea whats makes a man look stupid around here.. Running his tiny mouth on matters he knows not.. I see you've done that twice already.. Speak to me like that again and you'll be the first one broken here tonight.." Turning his back to the puny man "Now, who wants to arm wrestle?"
The balls stop their rotations as the big man speaks. "I doubt it, but I'll tell you what, you beat me in this arm wrestling, and I will apologize to both of you for my bluntness. Now I must warning you, I am one of the weakest Halflings I know, so hopefully Miss Pharasma would consent to reattach my arm after you tear it off." Turning to Pari he calls out to her. "What do you say? If he tears off my arm, will you try and help me out afterwards? The pain would certainly serve as my comeuppance for such rudeness."
Regardless of the answer, Bramzit does a bit of stretching and loosening of his arm while he approaches the man known as Breaker.
Turning back to the small one.. "I like your spirit wee one.. Ill accept your challenge and ill buy yea a drink after your thrown across the room.. Hows that sound?" Before you answer he has yanked a table over and assumes the position.. He cranks his knuckles before gripping your hand with his meaty paw.. "Feels like a childs hand.. You sure you wanna go on with this? I'll let you apologize and save face.."
Regardless, my first round..
Walking the streets in this town is almost as dangerous as the taverns! Alina looks at some of the signs on the avenue, More alley, than boulevard, but this whole town is not a polite place The elf girl grins broadly as she picks one of the more outrageous pubs: The sign of a excessively busty wench leaning over a feather duster, defying gravity. Ensuring her purse is well secured under her deep blue velvet coat, she pushes her long blonde braids back of over her shoulder and opens the ill fitting doors.
Assaulted by the riot of sound and smells, she thinks about how much this is not like home. Humanity, look with disdain if you must, but revel in their vitality! Alina takes only a bare moment to scan the room, and seeing a stunning array of people, some arguing, most drinking, and a Wine-haired gnome girl singing an appropriate tune. The elf-girl speaks with a lilting voice, "Good eve, fine folk!" Without waiting for a reply she sidles up to the bar, brushing past a skunk of a man shouting at a halfling. At the bar, she orders a pint of lager, and sets a single gold on the bar. Winking at the dwarf, "I trust that is enough to start a tab?"
Ajani turns his attention to Eloise, quirking a curious eyebrow. First he is entirely ignored by earlier patrons, certainly not something he is accustomed to, giving the uniqueness of his race, and then a lovely young red woman (with a tail!) approached him directly for conversation! When he was in Senghor, though the sailors always regaled him with the tales he so desired to hear, he'd never been treated as quite the same as they.
Perhaps here would be different.
Snapping out of his deep-in-thought trance, Ajani addresses Eloise. "Er...yes! Forgive me...I was..what's the expression?...spaced out for a moment." The conversation about arm wrestling escaped his notice for the moment.
Out of habit, he reaches up to adjust his hat, tilting it backward a bit to give him a better look at this newcomer. She was definitely not a Vanara...but still, she had a tail, so she couldn't be all bad..right?
"I am called Ajani. And...yes, I am new in port. I come from a village a day's journey from Senghor. It is pleasant to meet you, Eloise."
Bramzit assumes the position opposite the man, "Naa, This should be interesting at least." he says just before they begin. As the contest continues, Bramzit puts up a surprising amount of resistance, his face turning a variety of shades. Eventually it is clear he will lose and he relents, his hand being slammed to the table by the mighty man.
Shaking his hand out to try and return circulation, he is out of breath and begs a moment before he fulfills his side of the agreement.
Surprised by the wee man's strength Krul will not take it to the "Breaking Stage", as is normal.. Instead he slaps him on the back with a toothy smile.. "Well now this one is surprising! A bit of training and you could make some coin with that arm.. Come and let Krul buy you a drink.. Bartender! Give this mighty mouse whatever drink he requires.. What's your name Sampson?"
Taking a swig of whatever the barkeep puts down in front of him, the Halfling smiles, "Names Bramzit Brightonspinner, but most call me Bram, or Bzzt. he says with a bow and flourish, "And as promised, I apologize for insulting your intelligence. Clearly you are a man of learning and simply debase yourself to the level you feel others expect you at as a ruse. Well played. Now, If you'll excuse me, I'll be right back."
Sauntering over to the Undine, Bramzit again bows before continuing, "I apologize for my rude remarks upon your leg, and my defensive rebuttal of your comments. Your business is yours and you should not have to explain yourself to a random man in a tavern, however amazing he may be."
Heading back to the bar, the Halfling notices the Vanaran talking and nearly spews his drink, "Gods above, it speaks! I thought it was just a monkey!" Then, realizing what he just exclaimed, he face palms and mutters "Sorry about that, I really am bad at not speaking what comes into my head."
Watching the halfling hop down and speak to some others in the tavern..
"Bahahhaha! You truly are an a@~#%@+.. We should get along nicely.." Moving over to the ladies table.. "Misses, what are yea drinking? I'll buy you a round.. Names Krul ifin you missed it.."
Those near the door the thump of boots on the stoop just before the doors swing open. A tallish Taldan man, by the look of his gear , appears in the doorway. Ahhh a sailor tavern, well a pirate tavern, poorer drink more honest company well honest in their duplicity it’s the one that hide behind societies civilities that are trying to hide there duplicity. He takes a couple of steps in and survey's the room casually in manner warily if you see his brown eyes. Elves huh, lots of sailors most seem to be well into their enjoyments, gnome musician, halfling circus act, some furry person, oh and a sucubis . . . Talk about built for sin. He removes his hat, as if manners require it. Old habbits die hard. His hat stowed under his arm he pulls his gloves free and stashes them in his broad sash.
He makes his way to the bar as he closes into an open space he chuckles and makes eye contact with the bar tender, "No no no this can't be right." he begins playfully. "Unsavory sailors, elves, no maids at all, that pungent mix of brine, vomit . . . " He pauses cheekishly smelling the air. "And that last odor . . . Yep that is it . . Ass. This is clearly not the 'House Keepers Guild.' I thought for sure with the name." He sees the dwarf's unbemused look and figures not the first time someone made that joke. "No worries master dwarf I gots shinies if you have drink, something stiff but will last a few sips." He settles the matter of coin with the dwarf and regards the room again.
Alina listens to the Taldan's commentary before leaning close to whisper, "Didn't you know all Elves were maids?" She smiles before adding, "Not that you seem to mind." Before he can reply, she leans back and takes another sip of her lager, her deep blue eyes staying on the gentleman next to her.
The coated woman sets herself down in her seat at the empty table, putting her bottle and cup down on it as she watches the bar. The darkly tanned woman pours another drink as the halfling first loses his little wrestling match, before pattering over to her. She sips quietly as the little man apologizes, before replying to him.
"Your path may wind towards vastly different places, but you'd do right to remember that everyone all ends up at the same crossroads. Try to make sure your deeds outweigh your misdeeds, and perhaps you'll be fine when that time comes. Thank you for the apology," Pari tells him as he sets off, before taking a look at some of the newcomers.
The elven woman with her braided hair, and the stuffy Taldan caught her eye the most, the dark haired woman raising her bottle of rum at them, inviting them from across the room to share a drink with her. "Come now, don't be afraid of a fellow sailor..."
Eloise smiles at the well mannered person.
"I do not believe I am familiar with that area. What can you tell me of your people?"
She sips her lager appreciatively.
Alina nudges her ad hoc companion's arm and nods to the peg-legged Pharasman, "Now there is a story waiting to be told! Let's go meet her."
Alina saunters over to the woman's table tankard in hand. She easily sidesteps rowdy patrons, deftly moving away from one's careless waving mutton leg. She grins, appreciating the temperamental and capricious nature of the tavern. Once at the table she takes a chair and sits down, turns and kicks her feet up onto the table. "I am Alina, archer and erstwhile marine. Assuming I can find work." Her face is aglow with the crowded warmth of the room, her eyes flitting from point to point as she talks. She pauses, waiting for the other woman to speak.
"Delighted to make you acquaintance," The woman tells her, pouring her a drink of rum and sliding it over the table. She glances over at her feet up on the surface, before imitating her, one boot and one wooden peg put up.
"Parivesa Alohawahu. Devotee to my lady Pharasma. You say that you're a marine?" She asks her, playing with the silver spiral hanging from her neck. "Dangerous profession. But no more than any sailor," Pari comments, taking a swig from the rum bottle directly, wincing and shaking her head, her face starting to get flushed.
The cleric's eyes drift down to the woman's hands, wondering why she's wearing gloves. "So you're a bowman as well? I trust that you're a decent shot," She tells her, smiling easily.
Being turned away by the silence of the women Krul will stomp off back to the bar.. Looking to the Bram.. "Hmm.. Them womenz must be lesbos or somethin.. Not to many turn me away.. Definitely not 4 of em at the same time.. Do i stink or somethin?"
Skipping past Sunny simply replies,
"Yes...". :P
Krul smells his armpit and makes a face.. "Dammit I guess I should done took a bath before coming here.. Oh well.. Bartender! Another bottle please.." He throws another few gold onto the counter..
Seeing Krul strike out as well soothes Bramzit's ego a bit. "Well, if the Monkey man is a male, at least we're about even, now that that Taldan guy showed up. What should we do now? Drink ourselves into a stupor? Watch that Gnome stretch her pipes? Throw each other around the bar?"
Reinald smiles in the direction of the well tanned woman (Pari) and takes a step from the bar. He catches the question from the red skinned devilish woman. He regards her still smiling. He catches himself eyeing her unconsciously. He answers her question a bit dazed, "uh . . . ah Taldor . . . my home well." He recovers a bit from his awkwardness. "That is a long and mostly sad story though I could share some facts of the homeland. I am Reinald Malcoms, happy to meet you. Come with me here." He motions to the table with the tan woman and elf with the braided hair. "We are all here to share a drink lets join this growing conversation here, the more the merrier." He regards the Varana, "Tails are welcome friend come on over." He motions for them to make their way to the table and heads there himself. As he rises from the bar stool he straightens himself and tugs on the edge of this sash to make sure the lines of his clothing are smart. Again old habits.
He makes his way to the table. Pausing to pull out a chair for Eloise. He addresses the table. "The mores the merrier I hope. I can call for the next round when the time comes." He smirks playfully, "Besides I once heard a joke begin about a lady sailor, an elf archer, a varana and a succubus," he winks at the teifling, "and a disgraced officer walked into a bar. I am dying to know the punchline."
Now this was unusual! Someone who knew little to nothing of his people and was actually interested in knowing! Certainly not a degree of curiosity he was accustomed to.
He smiled down to the shorter red-skinned woman, flashing pure-white teeth. "The Vanara are a tree-dwelling people, naturally gifted in acrobatics. Many of the other more human-like races tend to think our appearance means we're more ape-like in our intelligence also, but we are as prone to cleverness as any other race. Where we do get in trouble is our love of pranks. Harmless, of course, but it certainly does nothing to win others over."
"Gifted climbers we are, as well...though you could have probably guessed that." he adds.
"I am curious of your people as well, Eloise. I have never encountered someone like you before...though that isn't saying much, as ill-traveled as I am. Still...no better time than the present to learn, is there?"
"Perhaps another time." As he rises from the bar stool he straightens himself and tugs on the edge of this sash to make sure the lines of his clothing are smart. Again old habits.
Smirking friendly he approaches the table with the tan woman and the elven archer, "What do sailors have to fear from one another . . . at least when they are not staring at each other from crossed ships waiting the order to board."
Sunny sidles up to Alina Las'Baelin and smiles (^_^)
(^_^)
Reinald rises politely as another elf lass approaches and motions to any empty seat. "Join us please." He sits back down. "Our rum needs a friend." He flags a barmaid and points to the existing bottle.
Sunny skips a little closer and raises her tankard, "Aye rum!" (^_^)
Though still smiling, Alina seems almost furtive in her reply to Sunny,
Suny smiles brightly at those gathering at the table.
"Aye, thank'e muchly." She responds to Alina sitting down.
"Well...I s'pose 'Suny' be tha' closest that peoples manage with most times." She grins,
"T'would rather them peoples be sayin' that, than mussin' about with whut they's tryin' with th'a speakin'." She winks to Alina, "I mean, rilly, theys no great hope of gettin' it right most of tha' time', a-tall." Suny giggles as she remembers some of the 'attempts'. (^_^)
"Meh I'm just gonna sit here and drink.. Perhaps when I get drunk enough I'll go ask on of them pretties to dance.. Maybe by then the liqour will conceal my natural odor's.. Perhaps by then they'll be drunk enough not to care.. Or perhaps ill just start a fight here soon.. That sounds fun as well.." He looks around the room, sizing up potential opponents of his second thought..
Rolling his eyes, Bramzit responds, "Or you can just ask me to clean you up." With that, there is liberal use of prestidigitation to clean the burly man up and make him more presentable to the ladies. "Now this only temporarily cleans you and masks your smell, in an hour or two everything will come back, but it should be enough for you to work your mojo."
"My people? Oh..." "He knows nothing of tieflings? Desna be praised! Do not blow this, girl... "My parents are both human. The Chelish say that I'm a throwback and someone somewhere in the mists of time 'interacted' with outsiders, probably more than once. My mother lives in Eleder, but she's thinking or relocating to Bloodcove. My Da is a ship's master. We're all involved with ships and shipping in one form or another. I'm a rigger, for example."
"The other nice man has invited us to join his group, shall we?"
I just snubbed the first man who did not hate me on first sight. Good going Eloise...
She walks over to the larger group with the two elves and the two humans.
"May we join you? First round is on me. Barkeep, a round of brown ales for the table!"