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As you head north to the town of Beacon you feel the persistent chill air around you. The weather is cold and the wind is blowing hard up from the sea down by the docks.
You look down at it from a small ridge of hills about a hundred yards south of the town. From here you are able to examine the town a bit at your leisure before advancing.
General description of the town
The town itself is made up of various buildings that seem to be divided into two types of categories; the buildings on the north side of the main street and those on the south side.
It is clear that the buildings on the south side have older stonework, which looks rebuilt and redone. The newer stone work looks better put together and is on the north side of the town.
The majority of the town is surrounded by a wooden wall made of heavy logs. The wall is roughly ten feet in height and rough stonework around its base for added stability. The dimensions are almost a perfect “square” – except the western side, which is literally the bay.
The wall goes from the edge of the bay to the north directly east to a large keep. There is a small gate in the wall near the keep facing north.
Next, the wall heads straight south. A gate is made in the wall to accommodate a road coming from the east. The wall turns back to the west and travels back to the bay with a small gate in the southern entrance near the docks.
There is a guard tower on all corners of the wall – but they are merely raised wooden platforms about fifteen feet off the ground with a wooden covering for weather. It looks like these towers can hold about four men. You count one on each corner of the wall as well as two more staggered in between the corners for a total of ten altogether on the wooden walls (four across the north wall – two across the east wall – and four across the south wall).
The streets are all made of dirt – except for the main road which runs from the east gate to the bay. This road is covered in gravel. All of major houses and buildings have slightly raised wooden sidewalks in front of them. You suspect when the rains turn the streets to mud, or if there is flooding from the bay – than this will prevent issues like minor flooding or the usual muck from dirt roads.
Outside the wall to the east of the town flanking the road are small huts and one-building homes. You get the impression that the town was planned for a certain number and the population has been growing in the past year.
Almost every home or business has a fireplace and given the time of year, there are many fingers of smoke rising from chimneys all over town.
Essentially it is a rather large frontier town.
By the Bay
To the west are the docks. It looks like there is a large pier which could allow only four heavy Ships o’ the Line to be anchored for the purposes of offloading, but enough room for perhaps a score of longboats and small skiffs to be moored as well.
There are several two-story warehouses the size of small barns by the docks (you think there are six, but are not sure from here). Each of the warehouses has a small flag in front of it; you’d guess it belongs to a private company or privately owned. There is what looks like a building for a quartermaster as well, with a few guards milling about the gates.
Two four story watchtowers flank the docks themselves at the north and south of the beachhead. They are both stone, and you can see in the top of the watchtower two guards under a covered awning. The awning protects the two cannons on each watchtower and the cannons face the sea.
At this time you notice the flag that flies over the watchtowers (and the room you suspect to be the quartermaster’s office) is a navy blue flag with what looks like a bright silver star on a blue field to the left (Image Here).
There are currently three ships moored in the sheltered bay. Two of them fly the town flag; you believe they are privateer class ships with roughly 20 cannon a piece. The third ship flies another flag – you cannot make it out from here, but it is not blue. This ship is smaller than the others. On this ship you think you see only four gun ports and possibly a small swivel gun on the foredeck, and one on the aft deck. But it’s very hard to tell from your current position.
You believe the men on the towers are the town’s Watch; or possibly or formal guard for the town. Although these men are not formally uniformed, nor do they seem to have uniformed weapons (at least, none that you can see), they do all have a dark blue tabard on. You cannot be sure, but you suspect the tabard has the star symbol on the center of the chest and back. This must be a way to mark the “formal” military or militia.
East of the Docks: North Side
To the east of the warehouses on the north side of the town you see what looks like several small shops. They seem to be almost like “townhouses”. While this may not be safe from fire hazards, you have heard tales that in many frontier towns a “townhouse” style of design provides a small amount of security simply in their design as it acts as a natural barrier to an invading enemy as it forces enemies into tight bottlenecks in the streets; the homes themselves acting almost as a second set of "walls" in the town.
You also notice that the streets seem to have a very formal “design” to them. They run very straight, and the intersections also seem to be at a 90° angle to each other. Again, this seems to suggest a formal design meant for protection and suggests a very structured set of city planning; unusual for a town this small as you’d guess there aren’t more than about 5,000 people all told.
On closer inspection you believe that each “townhouse” is a split level establishment. The first floor seems to be dedicated to a small business – a butcher; a few tailors; a cheese shop and so on; the upper floor seems to be the living space of each respective proprietor.
East the of Houses: North Side
To the east of the houses you see what looks like a rather defensible keep. The stone work is fairly recent; you’d gauge not more than two or three years. The town’s heraldry flies above it. It looks like it is three stories in height and it seems to be roughly one-hundred feet square.
Not very fancy or decorative, the building seems solid and has various arrow slits in the walls. There is a large gate to the keep inside the wooden wall which faces the buildings in the town itself.
East of the Keep: North Side
To the east is the keep are smaller houses. Nothing too fancy, one story cabins and some small huts. Outside the eastern wall the homes look smaller and poorer and more recently made.
The main road
The main road bisects the town. It stretches from the east gate and heads to the bay itself. The majority of the buildings on the north side seem to be made more recently. You suspect the buildings on the south side may have been remnants from the Old Town before it was sacked by pirates while the northern side is more modern and better contrived in general.
East of the Docks: South Side
South of the docks there seems to be what looks like a rather massive building so close to the wharf. The building itself is a two storey affair with several chimneys and an attached stables. At first glance it seems as if the structure may have been a barracks at one time, or perhaps a rather secure manor house.
However, given the variety of folk that are near the stables and the amount of unusual people milling about the door that have no type of uniform, as well as the fact that they clearly seem to be unrelated, your suspicion is that whatever the building may have been; as of now you believe it to be a rather comfortable inn.
The southern gate opens to flank the eastern side of this inn. Anyone entering from the south would pass it first. Anyone coming from the bay and heading down the main street past the warehouses would pass it first.
East of the Inn: South Side
On the other side of the Inn are smaller stables and what looks like a blacksmith; a few modest alehouses; and more utilitarian places of business than a normal “shop” – baker; candlemaker; sailmaker; carpenter – that sort of thing.
These buildings are two large to be “town house” style affairs. The streets look far more casual in their design and layout. You’d gamble that this was certainly made by folk who had no experience with city planning and suspected these buildings were a remnant of the past.
East of the Business: South Side
You see what looks like a rather large fort. There is a clear stable there and what looks like room for about perhaps 20 horses. You think there are also a few wagons and barracks for about forty troops to stay at. You see a muster field in the center of these barracks. The wall for them is stone, but it is the same type of stone found at the Inn itself. The wall is twelve feet in height and has a gate on the north side, and no other gate you can see. There is a twenty foot tall tower on the northeast side of the small fortification. It is also stone and the summit is wide enough to accommodate about eight men. But it is nothing too remarkable.
East of the Barracks: South Side
You see what looks like a few buildings that may have at one time been comfortable houses for wealthier people. Now they seem like they are converted to more utilitarian purposes. You believe that one of the homes may be a hospice by the flag above it. You think another building may be a chapel; though you're not certain as to what god or goddess it is dedicated.
As for the other buildings in that area – while they certainly look like they may have been comfortable homes at one point, based on what you suspect you’d think they are now converted places of business.
These buildings stretch almost to the wall itself and make up the last of what you can observe from the hills above as you look down to the town in front of you.
Warming your hands a bit you reflect that you do not know where to go, or who to speak to about business. But as it is fairly cold and nearing noon, you decide to get warm and get yourself some lunch.
An inn catches your eye right away.
On the south side of the town, close to the docks, you see it nestled rather comfortably against what seems to be the main street of the town; the warehouses by the water and adjacent to the gate in the southern wall.
It’s clear that is no common tavern with a few meager chairs to huddle around a bar; this building seems to be fairly large and looks almost homey. You’d calculate that there may be roughly twenty rooms in it; as well as an attached stable. In addition, there is a single massive chimney which you calculate connects to the middle of the inn and there are several smaller chimneys that creep up the back of the inn to give heat to the building throughout.
As you wander down the hills toward the town you notice that there are no guards in the wooden towers which run along the southern wall. However, at the southern gate – which is currently open – you notice two guards standing an awkward sentry duty outside.
Both are wearing a blue tabard over their regular clothes and the symbol which flies on the flags above the keep is on the tabard. Both are human and both are armed; but you see nothing remarkable. They each have long spears and one of them has what looks like a rather broad-bladed shortsword hanging from his hip.
They watch you approach with a fairly bored expression and don’t attempt to hinder your entrance. It seems as if a lone traveler coming from the wild is not really worth much of a fuss to either of them.
As you enter you see the road from the gate passes the stables to the inn on your left. A low wall – perhaps no more than three feet in height – stretches around the small stableyard and a young man is patiently prying a rock which worked into the groove of the left front horseshoe of the mare he’s holding.
Seeing your presence he looks up from his task and nods pleasantly, asking if you are new to town and need a place to stay. He directs you to the entrance to the Inn – called ”The Floating Log”. Then he bids you a good afternoon and goes back to work on the mare (or stables your mount – if you have one).
Entering the common area you see a large and spacious room filled with multiple tables scattered about the place as well as some quiet nooks in the various corners of the room for more private conversations. A massive bar sits in the middle of the room and behind it is a huge fireplace and a good fire is burning.
However, the place seems fairly empty at this time.
You notice a man drinking alone at the bar and three men in a corner having a beer and smoking. A barmaid is cleaning a table and looks up at you, nodding pleasantly. Before she can speak a rather jovial man comes from behind the bar and waves his hand in the air at your presence.
”Welcome, traveler! It’s a cold one outside, eh? Well, have yourself a seat here by the bar and I’ll see what I can do to get you fixed up with a room or a meal and at least a drink on this ruffianly day.”
”Name’s Victor Longinius – but my mates call me ‘Vick’ – welcome! Now – what can I do for you?”
Dot
Dot
Vick quirks an eyebrow at you.
"Well, take your time, food's hot enough. I got plenty to eat, of course. I can fetch you a few loaves of bread; a good haunch of venison fresh off the spit and we just cooked up a pretty fair stew this monring with some clam, shrimp, potatoes, leeks, and a little spiced pepper for kick."
"Of course, if that don't tempt your fancy I got another few tidbits in the larder instead. Or maybe you'd prefer just something to drink? I got a keg of cold beer, ale, whisky - that sort of thing. Or if you'd like something else I can fetch you a nip of hot rum or some mulled wine to take the edge of the chill?"
"Anyhow, take your time," he says cheerfully, then pours himself a small cup of hot, rich coffee and sweetens it with a bit of honey.
Taissa quirked an eyebrow at the name, The Floating Log. She nodded her head in thanks to the groom. Her long copper-coloured hair was tucked under the woollen hood of her cape. Winter had spoken strongly this day. "Come, inside, Daya", she uttered in low, husky voice to her Roc. Daya gave one peal in response and followed Taissa into the inn.
Her deep blue eyes scanned the interior. She was already bristling beneath the layered clothing and hood. She was always wary of strangers, especially people in new towns. "Stay close, Daya", she instructed quietly.
Taissa made her way to the bar in quick strides, watching Daya's white feathered head bob by her legs. There was already someone there -- a male, very tall and human. The barkeep had introduced himself to him as Vick. He seems friendly enough, Taissa mused silently. She pushed back her hood and shook out her hair.
"Good day. I'll take the same as you - black coffee with honey, and also your stew." She gave a cordial smile as it was the polite thing to do in town, as Kostin and Gianya had taught her. Daya preferred her meat raw, but Taissa would share some of her stew with the young Roc. She handed over the appropriate coin for drink and meal.
Daya's golden eyes scanned upward and she hopped up on a stool so she could see better. She fluttered her feathers and then settled.
Taissa took the stool beside her and next to the tall male. She didn't speak for a minute or two as she mentally settled herself inside the inn. She then turned to the man, asking, "You here because of the Lord Regent's proclamation?"
"Good day. I'll take the same as you - black coffee with honey, and also your stew." She gave a cordial smile as it was the polite thing to do in town, as Kostin and Gianya had taught her. Daya preferred her meat raw, but Taissa would share some of her stew with the young Roc. She handed over the appropriate coin for drink and meal.
Vick eye's the half-elf quizzically a moment, as if he was going to say something. The presence of the coin seems to defray that concern however and he nods with a friendly grin.
"Bess; get our guest a bowl of the fishermen's stew - and while I'm thinking on it, ask Priam if we got any mutton left over - No, not the cooked stuff; something fresh... What? No, just ask, girl... yes; tell him it's just something for the... the guests," he adds, glancing at the roc with cocked head as if trying to figure out if the bird was safe, or friendly, or any number of things.
Watching her hop up onto the bar stool his mouth opens in surprise; then he chuckles a bit as he watches her perch there and peer around the smokey room.
In a few moments a bowl of rich stew is brought out and ceramic mug filled with hot coffee.
A quick examination reveals that the ceramic is not fancy, but certainly clean and well made. The stew is also in a ceramic bowl, but even without being asked a slice of black bread is also brought out with a small lump of butter on the plate by it.
Butter is dairy, yet you saw little grazing land for cattle. Either there is a dairy farm far enough from town limits that you missed it, or this Vick is well off enough to be able to import dairy from a long distance to be giving it freely to his guests.
A wooden board is also brought out after a moment by the young miss "Bess".
A small haunch of mutton is offered on it; still blood fresh - and it is placed in front of Daya by the barmaid who bobs a quick curtsy but eyes the bird nervously, especially the curve of her beak.
"There now - I hope you both enjoy," Vick says lingering a moment.
"I got a good memory for faces and I don't recall seeing you before. I reckon you're new in town - you got a place to stay while you get your business settled?" he asks.
"We got fine rooms; cheap, as not many folk or on the road this time of year. You let me know if you'd like one and I'll get your things settled right up," he says with a friendly nod.
Eyeing the fresh mutton, Taissa glanced back at the barkeep. "How much do I owe you for the haunch of mutton?"
Daya's golden gaze fell on the fresh meat and the young human who brought it to her. She gave a low screech, not to scare but in response to the offer of food. While her mistress' attention was on the man, Daya dipped her head and tore into the mutton with her sharp beak and talons. Within seconds the mutton was devoured. Daya gave another peal at the end of her meal.
"You have Daya's gratitude for the mutton", Taissa conveyed to the barkeep.
Taissa noted the butter on the dark bread and wondered at its source. The man behind the bar must be of wealth to afford such imported luxury. She had not seen any grazing land entering Beacon.
She dipped the buttered bread into her hot, thick stew and used it as spoon. "It is good", she said finishing a mouthful of food and taking a long sip of the coffee.
To the side of her, the tall male hadn't replied to her question, so she left him alone until he was ready to speak.
"I came in this morning." Taissa spooned some more of the stew into her mouth. Daya and she rarely spent much time indoors, preferring to sleep under the stars. Yet the weather had turned and Winter was biting bone. Perhaps a room for the night would not be a bad idea, especially in an unfamiliar town. She wondered about the stable and sleeping out there, with the groom's permission of course. But horses did not seem to like Daya's presence and often became skittish and vocal. The groom would be unhappy.
"We will take a room for the night." Taissa looked to Daya to ensure the barkeep knew she would be in the room also.
He had been travelling for too long – in spite of his massive frame, it seemed as even the hammer at his back was starting to weigh him down – he had it custom made, the crude metal of the huge weapon’s head ending in multiple blunt spikes built to last longer, and swing easier, but still it was not light enough apparently.
Another fool’s errand for sure – he thought to himself as he walked into Roderic’s Cove, now named “Beacon” – Now there is a name sure to draw in every one that wants to make a difference on this side of the gulf….
The words had been “Any who wish to make their fortune and become something great; with little to aid them but their wits and steel” – what the heck “becoming something great” could mean was well beyond him, but making a fortune was something that sunk in easily for Polux, so he had set himself on the way – truth be told, he had really nothing better to do, and he could use some distance from the outskirts of Sandpoint, after his crushing “run-in” with the carnival conman.
He knew some bits and pieces about the place – it had been tossed back and forth between pirates and Magnimar, and now everyone was expecting a move in from Riddleport it seemed – there wasn’t really much doubt in his mind that this “call” was meant to draw in cheap manpower, and some hired guns to populate the town, and make sure it is not simply ran over by the city to the north – why the hell would they be offering lands and position in town, if it wasn’t for that reason? It mattered not, titles and land can also be sold, and a profit can be made so… Whatever.
As he stepped in through the door from the dirt of the road outside, eyes taking in the surroundings, and his nose filled with the succulent smell of freshly roasted venison, he relaxed momentarily, satisfied that the silver he gave to the stable boy that offered him the directions to the place was not ill spent. The common area seemed fairly empty – a man drinking by himself at the bar, and another three in a corner drinking and smoking – nothing particularly relevant, though he did take notice of the egress possibilities, and decided for a table close enough to the door, so that he could bolt out if needed – There is always crap in frontier towns – he thought to himself.
He looked somewhat dishevelled, dust gathered in his clothes, boots, cloak and hair – the tanned skin bore the testimony of many hours on the road and outdoors. Standing easily over 6’ tall, in spite of the weapon at his back, and other travelling implements all about him, he moved effortlessly, seemingly carrying the load with ease. The dark brown hair falling over his face is not enough to disguise the observant glint in his black eyes, surveying the room as he moves to his chosen table.
There really was no way around the striking woman sitting at the counter though – her long reddish hair with an almost metallic tint immediately caught his attention, and he was sure he had spotted a hint of sapphire blue in her eyes. But even if she was not striking, the fact that a REALLY BIG and predatory bird was casually nestled on a stool next to her, taking down huge chunks of meat, would probably have caught his attention anyway.
A smile on his lips, shaking his head at the weirdness of it all, he took a seat, removing the hammer from his back, and leaning it against the wall in easy reach. Sitting down slowly but heavily, a glint of well-polished armour shows momentarily under his traveling clothes – reclining on the chair, he waits patiently for the innkeeper to come his way, casually listening to the conversations going on around him.
Hack was not self-conscious about ducking into the large Inn. He had long since disregarded any misconceptions about civilized southerners. There were good and bad people everywhere, the north included. He confidently strode into the establishment.
As his eyes adjusted to the light, he quickly noticed a well-armored man in a seat by the door. His lips curled into a smile that appeared more of a smirk when he saw the large hammer leaning against the wall. He curtly nods in his direction.
There is a prepared man. Could fit in well in the north with that hammock.
He stops short when he sees the beauty at the bar.
Well now, nothing like a drink with a pretty lass after shaking the dust off the road.
hack ties his long dark brown hair back with a leather thong as he strides to the bar. he is large and well-muscled, and obviously from the north. He carries a finely crafted great axe that is clearly an instrument of death sheathed upon his back within easy reach. He would be moderately attractive if it were not for his many tribal tattoos and scarred face. This was a battle-hardened man.
Aye, innkeep, mornin'. A mead and what she's havin'.
He sits next to the woman at the bar.
Mornin', lassie. Hack's the name. Can a buy ya' a drink?
The tavern door opens and a trio of people enter. The first is a figure almost completely covered by some great, voluminous cape while a pair of sailors, carrying a smallish trunk...or chest between them.
The robed figure stops, pulling back the hood from their head to reveal a blond Elven lass. She turns and says something quietly to the pair thence they move towards the bar set the chest down and wait while the Elf draws a small key to open said item.
Withdrawing some coins from some where within the chest the Elf pays the pair of sailors, who nods and proceed to take up a table near the fire place i the large room, while the Elf lass closes the chest/trunk and hops up on one of the stools. Extending a hand she smiles, waves and attempts to catch the attention of the fellow behind the counter.
"Hey-YA there!" (^_^)
"Might I be able ta' have some vittles? Perhaps some rum on'a side?" She asks, a definite 'burr' in her manner of speaking. Glancing sideways her large blue eye seem to open even wider.
"Ooooooo..." She exclaims catching sight of Daya. "Tha's a biiiig parrot....." (O_O)
The door opened and a heavily robed man of average height entered the cozy inn. Under the cloak he wore a scarf about his face to keep out the cold from long travel, and as he drew back the hood of his cloak, anyone taking notice would see that his hair was completely covered by a tight turban, although a few strands of wavy black hair had escaped. Both his eyes and skin were dark, a youngish man wearing clothing like that found in Katapesh, loose sleeves and breeches, although his had been bound at the ends around his wrists and ankles, again to keep out the cold. A bit of stubble was growing at his chin sparsely, and he had a number of small thin scars about his lips and mouth. He carried a small pack on his shoulder, a thick blanket rolled and tied to the end.
Asan peered around the room, taking note of the inhabitants. He breathed deeply, talking in the warm air. He had been too long and alone on the road, and it was good to be among other thinking folk.
Walking to the bar, the hilt of the scimitar at his hip made a few slight chimes as it brushed against the small bell bound to a sash around his waist. He nodded to the man with the large hammer as he sat at the edge of the bar closest to the door. Although he welcomed the warmth of the place, it was cool to feel the cool as well. Balance in all things he thought to himself and made the slightest of chuckles.
Looking to the Jovial man behind the counter, he smiled then brushed his chapped lips with the back of his hand.
"You have food and drink, and a warm place to sleep, and I would take advantage of all three, my friend."
Looking down the bar at the large tattooed man, the striking half elf and the rather large predatory bird, he knew this must be some kind of providence. He had come here seeking a varied group, both to learn from and to teach, but he could not have been more pleased with the different folk assembled. He was sure they all had their stories. All had their own wisdoms to share.
He took a handful of coins from under his robe and placed them on the bar.
"A drink for everyone, I think!" Asan said, raising his voice a bit. "Spirits to warm the spirit on this cold day, no?"
"And why not?" - came the answer from Polux, as he offered a nod and a wry smile to the man making the offer - "As long as you allow me to pay for the next one"
And so they come, Taissa considered silently. She glanced at Daya, on her right, and smiled. The youngling had been fed and now sat, perched, regally, on the stool, her pristine white feathers ruffled as she preened.
In a series of low peals, she communicated with the Roc, away from the ears of the others nearby.
The dusky-skinned one with the hidden armor and the large hammer sat on his own. She noted his private smile and his general observation.
The large northerner, with the scarred and inked skin had sat down beside her. His tribal markings intrigued her and the scars did not repulse. He was battle-honed and worn. To his question, she responded, "Good day, Hack. I have my sweet coffee. I am Taissa." She lifted her head from her bowl of stew and looked deeply at him with probing, sapphire eyes.
When the tall Elven woman had entered, Taissa rallied her mental and emotional defences. She waited for the familiar, verbal strike from the full-blooded female. Taissa's half-blood often incurred slurs from her intolerant, distant relations. "No parrot. Roc", was her low, brisk response to the female.
The final man, a heavily robed, dark-skinned man walked in with an air of harmony. He offered drinks to all present in the inn. Taissa gave him a sidelong glance. Lord Regent's proclamation reached far and wide from the looks of these people.
"The coffee is hot and good" was her reply.
Hack lifts his Mead slightly towards the half-elf, and smiles broadly.
Well met, Taissa, and what would be the name o' the Roc?
When the dark-skinned man with the Scimitar and the elf join them, Hack nods in each of their directions. When he is offered a round by the dark-skinned man, he stands from his seat.
Aye, I'll be takin' ya up on that drink, friend. I am Hack, and you would be?
Taissa mimicked the smile, unaccustomed to such regular, human displays, but not uneasy beside the Northern warrior. She bowed her head, lifting her ceramic mug in mirror gesture.
"Her name is Daya. She will not kill you unless you attempt to kill me or her."
Taissa lovingly scratched Daya's feathered head.
Hack was easy and cordial in his manner for such a hardened warrior.
She was unused to large groups, having spent the majority of her life with only Daya as companion. Kostin and Gianya told you to mingle, to not keep yourself apart from people.
She did not trust any of these folk, especially the Elf, but Taissa would make the effort, as she promised Kostin.
Levelling her gaze on Hack once more, she asked, "You here because of the proclamation?"
As Taissa eats her meal, she looks up at Vick.
"How much do I owe you for the haunch of mutton?"
Vick grins at her.
"Oh, not a worry, ma'am - on the house. Don't fret on rates; you're the first business we've had for a few days, what with it being winter and all - I'm happy to oblige," he says cheerfully.
"You have Daya's gratitude for the mutton."
He turns a warm smile to the young roc.
"Thank'ee indeed! "Daya" is it? That's a good name; what does it mean?," he says peering at the bird with a friendly gaze. His question seems sincere - he is not being cloying or condescending. He is honestly curious it seems.
"It is good".
Vick seems pleased that his company is enjoying the meal.
"Well! My thanks; I'll let my lad Priam know; he's a good cook - came with me from back home - all the way from Cheliax."
"Anyhow, I'm happy to see it's well received! I'll let him know what you said."
The door opens again and a heavyset man enters the bar with a large weapon. Before Vick can take his order, the door bangs open again and another man follows quickly behind.
Aye, innkeep, mornin'. A mead and what she's havin',
the man says with a nod at the redhead.
Vick seemed a bit surprised at the presence of so many people entering all at once, but he didn’t look off-put in any way.
As his eyes roam over everyone he makes a quick aside to the barmaid.
”Bess; put another log on the fire and put another kettle on and brew some more coffee. Meantime, tell Priam we’ll need some more of the stew; a few more loaves, a good cheese, too. Also check the larder and see if we have any more apples; and while you’re at it get a bowl of those string beans and carrots in case they want something light. Oh! That reminds me, see if we have any more of the potato dumplings – if so, tell Priam to fry ‘em up with some diced garlic and onions. If not, tell him to dice some potatoes and fry it up with some salt pork and a little pepper – come on now, there’s a good girl,”
Bess nods quickly and hurries back to the kitchen even as they all settle in.
Bustling up to the newcomer, Vick he nods his head politely.
”Ah! Name’s Vick, sir – and as for the lady; don’t know her name as she hadn’t told me. But she’s drinking coffee; hot - with a fisherman’s stew to munch on. That said, who might you be?” he says signaling to Bess to fetch out a cup of ale and a bowl of the stew.
He looks at the man a bit sheepishly, then shrugs.
”Begging your pardon, but as you’re in my place, I try to get to know the folk who come here well enough so I know how to help them best,” he says with quick nod of his head.
As he waits for an answer, he suddenly glances up at the others entering.
The sudden trio of people with the elf between them draws some surprise from him; he knows most of the sailors here, but he does not seem to recognize these men.
The elf moves to him and indicates to the other two with her to get her things quickly.
"Might I be able ta' have some vittles? Perhaps some rum on'a side?"
Sizing up the size of the chest and the appearance of two servants, he seems to think a moment before answering.
”Of course, of course,” he says with a quick and friendly nod and turns back to the kitchen.
”Priam – see to it we got more greens coming, and this lass wants a bottle of rum,” he pauses to quickly examine the chest and the two probable servants with her, or at least hirelings.
”That said, fetch me a bottle of the Rinaldo vintage, eh?” he adds.
It’s not easy to be sure, but there are many wineries in eastern Cheliax. The Rinaldo Family name is famous for its production of fines spirits. If the bottle comes from the Rinaldo family (as is likely – Vick is certainly a Chelaixian native) than it is likely going to cost roughly 20 GP for a single bottle of their rum.
It seems likely that – given her wealth and status and the obvious wealth and affluence most elves possess that Vick is assuming that the elf will want only the finest. It should be worth noting that most taverns are generally not so well equipped with such finery.
”Of course! I’ll put it on your tab,” he says to her with a nod.
”And anything for you two… companions?” he says, adding the last uncertainly.
But before the elf could answer, the half-elf asks him a question and he turns to her quickly.
"We will take a room for the night."
Vick seems eager to oblige, but is somewhat confused for a moment. Pausing, he seeks clarification.
"Sure enough miss… Miss? Wait, didn’t get your name, yet I think – but no matter for now. Now; by "we" you mean you and a mate? Or just the good miss Daya? Either way is fine, but I need to know so I can plan a room. Meantime, I'll get the sheets dressed down and send my lad Rufus to take your gear to it once it’s ready, just need to know how much space you're looking for."
Before Taissa can answer him another man enters the inn.
Moving to the bar the outlander takes a seat and greats the innkeeper politely.
"You have food and drink, and a warm place to sleep, and I would take advantage of all three, my friend."
Vick seems to take it all in stride, however.
”Very good – and salaam to you and your house, my friend,” he says politely, touching his fingertips to his forehead, then lips, his tone a bit more serious.
Glancing over the gear, he frowns, thinking a moment. Then he nods to himself as he makes his decision.
”Coffee perhaps? I got some local stuff; but if you’re in the mood I can brew you some from Mwangi – or tea, if you prefer?” he says politely.
His mind tacks back suddenly as he remembers the question about the room.
Deciding to make things a bit clear, he calls out to the others in a loud voice.
”Oye! Begging your pardon all – but as for rooms, I’ll be happy to share with you all; but let me tell you what I got.”
"First things is we got a few rooms with just a bed in it; now they're the cheapest. You could likely fit in good miss Daya somewhere in there, and if you aren't choosy you could share the bed with another - it's not too big, but it ain't too small. You may fit two folk to the bed; though it can be pretty cramped during the busy season, I'll allow!"
"Now those are the cheapest; they run you five silver a day - that includes supper and breakfast - but beer and strong drink is by the bottle or the glass," he says.
"The next up has a bigger bed, it'll hold two or three comfortable; and it has a smallish fireplace - so it'll be warmer - a good sized chest is in it for valuables and such; that'd run you one gold a day."
"Last room's got two medium beds and a larger fireplace; it even's got a small table with a mirror on it," he adds the last proudly "but we only got two of those rooms. They'd hold four comfortable - two in each bed. Of course, in the busy season we fit in more on the floor - but we ain't got that problem now. Anyhow, that room'll be 3 gold pieces - but you can split it with any mates you got."
"Anyhow, you let me know what you think and I'll get your gear stored post-haste!" he adds, seeming to be in a bit of a hurry now that there's so many folk in the room with him and sees to it that the food is brought out for all.
Taissa nods her head at the courtesy of the free mutton for Daya.
She had not introduced herself to the barkeep, Vick.
"I am Taissa. Daya means 'compassion' and 'bird of prey', although the two seem polar in nature. Still, both suit her fine." Taissa was happy that the barkeep was extending cordiality to her animal companion.
When Vick asked her about the room occupants, a slight blush lit her cheeks at the inference of her sharing a room with someone other than Daya. "The room will be for me and Daya. I require a room with a simple bed in it. If you have a spare woollen blanket, I will take it in case Daya prefers to nest on the floor." Taissa had no use for expensive rooms and bedding, having slept in a bedroll under the stars more often than not.
When Vick suggested one of his lads take her belongings up to the room, Taissa shook her head. "Nay. I will keep my belongings with me. I'll bring them up when I retire for the night. Thank you."
Hack looks to the barkeeper.
The name's Hack.
He turns back to Raises.
Aye...here t'make even more of a name fer myself. I need yo settle on one place eventually.
Deep blue eyes regard Hack upon his answer. "Settling down is hard." Taissa's voice was huskier than usual, possibly due to the cold weather that had settled upon the land. The seasons could expressly affect her.
She then asked, "How old are you, Hack?"
"I am Taissa. Daya means 'compassion' and 'bird of prey', although the two seem polar in nature. Still, both suit her fine."
Vick nods pleasantly at the introductions.
"The room will be for me and Daya. I require a room with a simple bed in it. If you have a spare woollen blanket, I will take it in case Daya prefers to nest on the floor."
Vick nods again, then looks a bit confused.
"Oh, begging your pardon - the mattresses aren't the best, but they can be tricky to clean after folk have been sleeping in them. Sheets are easier," he says bit awkwardly, hoping it doesn't offend you.
His eyes flick to the large man talking to the half-elf.
Hack looks to the barkeeper.
The name's Hack.
He nods with a friendly smile.
"Ah, sounds good, then. Sorry to pry - just figured it'd be easier if we all know each other; especially as you're all guests in my place and I want you all to feel welcome," he says politely.
He suddenly snaps his fingers.
"That reminds me - if any of you all need a bath, we got a place for that, too. Nothing fancy; large copper tub - but we'll heat the water for you with some kettles to get it warm enough, if you'd prefer it."
"That said, I got one room for the night - smallest size," he says as if making a mental inventory.
Then he looks at the others as they enjoy their meals and relax.
She understood the use of sheets on a rented cot and mattress and wondered if the barkeep believed otherwise or he was simply being helpful. Taissa tilted her head at Vick before politely responding, "Sheets are acceptable. The woollen or fur blanket is for added warmth since there is no fireplace in the small room. If there are none to spare, we shall use our own."
Taissa had taken a warm bath days ago in Nybor. Gianya had insisted on it before she left with Daya. Did she require another hot bath? Taissa discreetly sniffed her skin to discern any offensive odour. She would have wiped herself down with a rag and some water, removing dust and dirt from her face and other exposed parts of her body when she had retired to her room. If the others took up the offer of a bath, then she would too. Being around people and in company seemed more work than necessary.
Well, Taissa, not settling down, but some land and a title may not be bad. If there's killin' to be done to secure it, then I'd be happy to send the baduns to the mud. I'he seen twenty-eight winters, but I have not logged or worked the land since long before my raidin' days. It's in my blood...just like my other axework.
Hack looks back to the innkeeper as he awaits his meal.
Well met, Vick. You have any other rooms like Taissa here rented?
Hack did not have the heart to tell them all that he would rather be sleeping under the stars.
Suny appears about to be saying something to Taissa when the Bar-tender's words of 'Bottle' snaps her attention back to him.
"Oh AYE! A bottle be right naffy!" She exclaims gleefully. (^_^)
Folding her legs up under the large blanket she's wearing as a makeshift 'cape' Suny slowly turns about and regards the large room and the goodly number of people that are starting to fill it up.
Taissa mops up the last of her stew with the last of her buttered black bread and then pushes the bowl away from her.
"Titles hold no appeal. I would laugh being called Lady." She wipes her mouth with her kerchief.
So, the Northerner was not much older than herself. She noted his well-defined muscle and the great axe still stowed on Hack's back. She approved of both.
"Owning land could be useful at some point. For now protecting and upholding justice are motivation enough."
Daya stands on her stool and stretches out her wings, barely managing not to knock anything off the bar. She gives a brief, low peal before settling down again and shaking her head as if agreeing with Taissa.
Suny tilts her head and frowns a little at something she appears to hear Taissa say. Then Daya grabs people's attention and Suny giggles.
"Is'a pretty birdy..." (^_^)
Taissa caught the frown on the Elven female's face and chose to ignore it. She was familiar with similar looks from other Elves she had encountered trekking through Golarion.
She hears the Elf's soft laughter at Daya's antics at the bar.
Daya preens happily under the tone of the lady's words/compliment and fluffs her feathers, making them appear fuller and whiter.
Taissa laughs at Daya's prideful display. She coos to her young Roc.
Addressing the 'caped' Elf, "Aye, lady, she's pretty and knows it."
Well met, Vick. You have any other rooms like Taissa here rented?
Vick is dashing back and forth between the place getting things taken care of.
He calls out as he moves –
”Yes indeed, we got eight of the small one's all told; right now no one’s renting them, though we had a few folks in last week; but they all took one of the big rooms. But they left four… no, five days ago.”
”But it’s been an ugly few months,” he says with a sigh.
”Normally we’re more busy – but you’ve been on the road, you know how it is.”
”Most taverns I been to only got about two or three rooms all told, and maybe with one bed a room. Hell, you’re crammed in a room like that with maybe ten or eleven lads coupled together in a room – four or five lads in the damn bed, and if you don’t get a spot in the bed it’s on the floor. If you’re lucky you’re by the fire, if not, you’re maybe pressed over by where they got the chamber pot,” he says with an amused grunt.
”Last summer the place was packed and I had to hire on lads just to keep the food going. But now? Well… it’s rough, but only a few months ‘till spring, then we’ll be back to tip-top,” he says with a confident grin.
"Oh AYE! A bottle be right naffy!"
Vick turns to the elf and makes a quick nod.
”Of course, m’lady,” he says a bit formally.
”Then nothing for your men, I take it?” he says letting the sentence hang there for a moment.
As he waits for a comment he makes a quick nod to Bess and says something briefly to her.
1. The men in the corner who have been gambling have had their eye on Sunny the entire time she's entered the room, as well as the gear she's brought in and is wearing.
To figure out why, you’d need a Sense Motive Check, though.
2. Vick has informed Bess to make sure Sunny is getting the best accommodations and gear for her money. It seems he’s come to some conclusions – to find out what, another Sense Motive check needs to be made.
Vick continues to go about his business, then.
Out of the corner of her eye, Taissa spied the men who had been gambling but whose eyes kept straying to the wealthy Elf. Suny, with her visible wealth, could be an easy target but Taissa was not sure of the men's motives at this time. She remained vigilant in case there was trouble.
She signaled Daya with a series of low, discreet peals, so the Roc would be on the ready also.
Vick turns to the elf and makes a quick nod.
”Of course, m’lady,” he says a bit formally.
”Then nothing for your men, I take it?” he says letting the sentence hang there for a moment.
Suny blinks in surprise at Vick's words, even spinning her head to look at the two she came in with.
"Huh? They in't mine." She shakes her blond mop as she turns back to regards Vick, "I jus' payed 'em shine ta' help move me things from tha' boat up ta' here." She informs him with a bright smile. (^_^)
Suny looks at the people currently seated at the bar. Then, taking her offered bottle of rum and mug in hand, walks upon bare, brown feet to get closer to the pretty birdy. Indicating with a nod and a wave of a hand that the rest of her meal should be moved to suit as well.
Once again folded up atop her new stool, Suny slowly and gently reaches out with a bare, brown arm revealed from within the folds of her 'cape' (Which, upon this closer inspection, is naught but a large winter blanket wrapped about the Elf.) to very gently stroke and pat Daya.
"Soooo pretty..." Suny whispers.
Daya's head swivels at the proximity of the female. She blinks once and then stares with her golden gaze.
When a tentative hand reaches toward her, Daya stands and screeches low and long, in mild warning. It was one thing to be complimented but another to be touched without invitation.
The Roc is not attacking, just protecting her space from the stranger. The golden eyes continue to stare at the female, even as she hears the female speak soft words again.
Taissa turned her focus on the newly moved Elf and her now agitated Roc companion.
"Lady, she does not know you. You should ask before touching."
Taissa gave a series of low peals and Daya responded in kind, a strange conversation ensued until Daya calmed and sat back down on the stool.
"Now, you may ask. She is calm."
Asan finally takes a seat and a better look at the various people gathered. After his offer of drinks, and the one offered to him, he nods and gives a half smile to all assembled.
To those nearest to him at the bar, he waits for an opening in their own conversations so as to not interrupt.
"I am called Asan, and have come here to this place to seek enlightenment and also to enlighten. May I know your names an your reason for finding yourself in this place at this time?"
His demeanor is genuine and friendly, if a bit stilted, seeming almost practiced, as if he has perhaps not been around this many people before.
Suny's arm/hand freezes in place as Daya reacts. At Taissa's words, her arm not retreating, she leans backwards a little to look around said bird and smile at Taissa.
"Here...why ye call me 'Lady'? I mean, I un'erstand whut it does mean..." And Suny sighs as she shakes her mop of hair,
"But, truly, I dun't rilly un'erstand whut ye be meanin' by usin' tha' word." She grins at Taissa.
"Ye ken?" For the moment Daya seems forgotten...
Taissa's copper brow rose high on her forehead.
"We've had no introduction. I must call you something, so as to not be rude."
She extended her hand (in handshake) to the Elf, wondering if the female would take it in good faith. "I'm called Taissa. And you are?"
It was then the dark-skinned human spoke up.
"Well met, Asan. I'm Taissa. I seek to uphold justice and to protect. That is my purpose, here." She extended a small smile in his direction, not truly comfortable with human social niceties.
With a slight bow, he responds in kind to the half elf.
"And well met to you. Justice is indeed one of the most noble things one can seek to uphold."
He returned her small smile.
"Have you come far? I'm curious to know how great a reach this Beacon's light shines."
Suny reaches forwards, with her other hand, to take Taissa's in her own for a firm and hearty shaking.
"Oh, aye. Well...if'n I wer ta' call t'me self, why I'd use a term 'Lass' or, perhaps 'Hey-YA there!' or somat like same." Then Suny replies brightly then frowns, letting go of Taissa's hand,
"Though, truth told, t'would be odd fer me ta' be talkin' ta' m'self, hey? Whut t'would it be m'self an' I would be talkin' about, then..." She mutters and ponders quietly. Her other arm still held, unmoving, towards Daya.
Suny blinks, shaking her head as her thoughts come back from where ever they careened off to.
"Oh! I be known as 'Suny' in'a speakin' of tha' peoples!" She responds cheerfully to Taissa, again thrusting her hand towards the other woman. "T'is tha' easiest folks seem ta' be with sayin' me name as t'is said when peoples in't speakin' in'a speakin' of tha' kin. Ye ken?" (^_^) She burbles happily, her original arm still held out towards the plumage of the pretty birdy.
Suny's large blue eyes turn to regard the second conversation now also happening between Asan and Taissa.
Being she was conversing first with the Elf female, Taissa nodded and replied, "Suny, it is then", and shook the the Elf's hand with assured measure. Taissa pondered the unusualness of Suny, but she seemed friendly enough.
Taissa noted that Suny kept her other arm out and still near Daya. She chuckled inwardly, knowing how stubborn her Roc could be, when she wasn't approached right.
"Suny, if you want Daya to respond to your gesture, you will have to ask her if it is alright to touch her. Otherwise she will not draw closer. She is a proud creature, even for one so young."
Once more, Taissa cooed to her beloved Daya.
She had never had someone bow in her presence and was slightly taken back by Asan's formal gesture. Perhaps his folk deemed it a respectful token among strangers.
"I have only come by Nybor. Before that, I wandered Golarion with Daya. I am Nirmathi by birth. Where do you hale from?"
Suny nods and grins at Taissa's reply, then proceeds to make similar 'cooing' and soft whispering noises towards Daya.
(^_^)
Daya tilted her head at the soft sounds issued from the female's lips. Taissa appeared agreeable enough with the female, so Daya gave a single, short, low-pitched screech and blinked her golden eyes. She fluffed up her feathers and then approached the upheld hand, allowing the stranger to touch her feathered crown briefly, before pulling away and casually perching on the stool once more.
The young Roc peered around the room, listening to the timbre of each voice issued, determining if they were friend or foe to her mistress-sister, Taissa.
Nodding to Taissa's reply, he responded with his own after a slight pause. He found the woman and her avian companion intriguing, and an even greater sign that he was following the right path.
"I am originally from a smallish village outside Katapesh far to the south, but for the past year or so, I had been travelling with a merchant caravan from Magnimar. I earned coin helping them fend of bandits and the like, but when I saw news of this new community, something called me. It seem the right place to go, as if the stars themselves had pointed me on my path."
He was clearly becoming more comfortable speaking, and that last bit was spoken with a far off gleam in his eye.
Upon touching/stroking the great bird Suny bounces up and down upon her stool, stifling an excited squeal of pleasure. Her hand/fingers linger, feeling the subtle softness of the wondrous raptor's plumage. As the encounter draws to a close Suny leans back and regards Taissa again,
"Um...did I hear rightly a'fore? Whus ye callin' tha' beasty a rock?" She asks, sounding obviously puzzled. "I mean. I un'erstand t'is a 'Bird'...But..is rock tha' type it be, then?" She frowns a little again.
"I mean...there dun't be nuffin' seemin' wrong with said birdy. Sure 'nough t'would seem wrong fer it t'be more'n fit ta' fly...." Suny ponders quietly. She blinks and turns to regard Asan with what seems to be her default setting of 'Bright smile'. (^_^)
"Bandits are plentiful. I crossed Churlwood on my way here and it is rife with them. Thank the Spirits for the good druids who reside in those woods. They led a true path to Beacon."
She turned something over in her mind that Asan had said, before adding, "Stars and Beacons. It seems a path is being laid with such omens."