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Fireday, 2nd of Arodus, 4713, Age of Lost Omens
Welcome to the City of Kenabres! As the summer months begin to reach their end the now cooling weather gives welcomed relief to the warriors of the 4th Crusade. For the next several weeks, excitement is building, Armasse is coming! Traditionally an opportunity for scholars and priests to come together to study the lessons of history from wars past, since Aroden's death, this holy day has become more about training commoners in weaponry, choosing squires, and ordaining new priests. Over time, Armasse has grown to encompass jousting competitions, mock duels, battle reenactments, and other festival events. In Kenabres, the festival (which takes place on the 16th Arodus) is eagerly anticipated, for it provides distractions from the horrors of being on the front line of the war.
Smiles on faces normally marred by downcast eyes and furrowed brows do wonders for city morale in the weeks leading up to the event. Armasse is a citywide celebration, but the majority of the event, including its jousting matches and other entertainments, takes place at Clydwell Plaza, just west of the cathedral, and while the opening ceremonies are still weeks off, the streets are beginning to fill with travelers and celebrants who plan to enjoy the festivities. Decorations fill the streets as people begin to embrace the holiday cheer.
You have been fortunate enough to get a room at the Defender's Heart. The largest inn in Kenabres, this business caters mostly to mercenary companies and crusaders coming to the city. Inside this squat stone structure are dozens of rooms for rent, hearty food, and a wide selection of refreshments shipped in from across the Inner Sea. It's owner, Kimroth Otai was a mercenary fighting against the World wound until he lost his right arm in a clash with demons. Now he spends his time overseeing his staff and talking wistfully with other, more able bodied soldiers who spend time in his establishment when back from the front.
A lithe woman walks into the common room, she glances around a moment and upon seeing no one she recognizes walks over to an empty table near a window, cracking it open slightly so she can feel the autumn breeze. She plants her chair with its back to the wall next to the window and leans back calling out to the staff, "A glass of wine and a hunk of cheese, if you please!" Her voice is melodious and even the mere act of calling for service nearly sounds like a song.
At the far end of the bar, well away from the entrance an indeterminate figure sits hunched over a mug of hot cider. His heavy cloak conceals most of his body, but his ruddy features, dark hair and patrician nose are in plain view.
A raven, large, black and glossy, quorks as it hops from his shoulder down to the rail. The man flicks a crumb of bread at the bird, who catches it nimbly on the wing before alighting in the rafters of the bar.
He blinks at the woman's entrance and his hand raises for a moment, fingers crooked in a half formed gesture before he hastily clenches it to a fist and returns it to the smooth surface of the bar top.
I wonder... the thought is plain on his face as he studies the newcomer, puzzling something over in his mind.
A greying paladin sits upon one of the stools near a back corner. A silver sword of Iomedae hangs about his neck, while her signs and symbols dot his unblemished armor. Hot tea or coffee in his hands, and a wistful expression upon his face. His eyes roam around the room of people, almost like he's trying to soak up the sight of so many crusaders in one place. With a soft sigh he once again drops his head to his beverage and sips, off in different world.
A somewhat slim dwarf bursts through the door, his red hair and beard dripping with sweat and a large hammer strapped to his back.
Looking around and finding his target, he shouts over the din of the common room.
"Kimroth! Can ye get me a drink? I'm mighty parched!" The dwarf laughs and strides over to the owner, patting him on the back.
A younger man enters and pauses at the door overlooking the establishment. The pull he felt felt...sated and his hand, sunkissed and bronzed reached up to clasp the brightly silvered holy Symbol of Sarenrae hanging from his neck. He made his way to an empty seat licking his lips and removed his helm, enrapt within cloth and silks like a turban. He was of obvious Kelleshite decent, His jet black a bit wild from being underneath his helm for so long.
He glanced around for a serving person to come to him for an order. Where he made eye contact he smiled politely. It was obvious he felt just a little out of place this far north. The gear her wore said little about him, a scimitar on a Keleshite said little, no did the scale mail he wore. He certainly was quieter and more humble than many of his brethren Keleshites that much was obvious even at a glance.
The front door swings shut behind a leaving patron, but is stopped suddenly by a small foot. A pale, lightly-built girl shoulders the heavy wooden door open awkwardly, her hands too busy carrying an overly large open tome to grab the handle. The girl pauses briefly to adjust her grip in order to slide her glasses back up her nose, but doesn't look up; the tavern is familiar to her, and she walks towards her usual chair at the end of the bar. She nearly crashes into the person already occupying said chair.
Her book slams shut, startled, and she nearly drops it as looks up at the large, imposing man in a cloak who is already occupying her normal seat. "S-sorry, sir," she stammers, her green eyes wide behind her glasses. Unsure what to do, she places the book gingerly on the counter one seat over, and climbs up into the chair.
As she begins to rifle through her bag to get her bookmark, the nose and face of a fox push out from under her capelet. He sniffs, having caught the scent of the raven, and yips at the rafters where it has perched. "Shhhh!" the girl admonishes quickly, giving a pained smile to the gentleman with the raven. An embarrassed blush rises on her face, only accentuating the purple spirals that mar the right half, and she adjusts her glasses again self-consciously, all too aware.
Outside, Haizi and Little Brother discuss their options.
"In there. Shelter. More two-legs."
"Flight!"
Haizi laughs. "No, little brother. Food. Shelter."
Little Brother's head tilts. "Food? Eat? RABBIT??"
"I don't know what they have. This is were two-legs meet. Like pack, but not."
Little Brother looks at the couple making out in the window. "Reproduction?"
Haizi turns red. "I ...don't know. Come. Food."
"Flight ..." Little Brother tries to protest, but he already knows he's lost this argument.
Haizi summons his courage and walks into the tavern. His eyes dart about taking in the sights, and Little Brother sniffs the air. "Food!" he barks.
"I told you," Haizi replies. For a moment he watches the patrons, taking in what they do. He sees a few walk to the bar and order food. Must be how it's done. Haizi walks to the bar himself. "Hello, fellow two--fellow humans. I would like to eat some human food now, please."
Haroon cranes his neck at the book, then favors the girl with a none-too-reassuring smile. Tavern's crowded today, eh miss? he ventures in a low raspy voice.
The raven quorks down at the fox, then dives, teasing the beast before returning to the rafters. Hsst! None of that now, Txamsem! he admonishes the bird.
Turning back to the young girl, he studiously avoids looking at the spiral on her face. My apologies, miss. Txamsem, he can be a prankster and a thief, despite my best efforts to train him. I am Haroon. What's that you're reading there?
An unusual looking young man sits at the bar, watching the growing crowd. While he's hardly the only half-elf in the city, he may be the only Tien-La nomad. He's wearing odd clothing over armour that appears to be made of wood, and has a bullwhip wrapped around his waist.
When the young lady sits down at the bar after bumping into the fellow in the next seat, he smiles reassuringly. "Hello miss. My name is Unegen. Are you here for the festival?" Without waiting for her to respond, Unegen turns to the innkeeper "Kimroth! A round for the house, yes? Perhaps some fruit juice or mare's milk would be best for the young lady though." and quickly turning once more to Tesseract, he continues "And how about your friend there? What would he like to drink?"
When the unusually-dressed man orders a round for the bar, Farak perks up.
"Ah, a man after my own heart, I see! The blessings of the Lucky Drunk be on you then—and bottoms up!"
Farak drains his mug in one swift motion and immediately reaches for another, which appears in his hand almost immediately, supplied by the barkeep.
Haizi, after some struggles, gets a pot of stew. He smells it and tries to look appetized in front of Little Brother.
"Food," Little Brother says.
"Yes, of course, It's called 'stu' and apparently they love it."
"No. Food." The wolf guides Haizi to the table with both a raven and a fox along with their pet humans.
"I don't think so, Little Brother. They have humans like you have me. No eating possible new pack."
"Flight?" the wolf whines once more.
Haizi ignores him and approaches the table. "Greetings! Look at all of us humans eating human food while sitting on things we build!"
"Very much so." Tess fidgets in her chair. She normally came to the tavern at odd hours precisely to avoid the dinner rush, but it seemed like the tavern was busier than ever. Unless...
She turned to her other side, where a very tall, slender young man with an accent she couldn't quite place had introduced himself. The festival of Armasse! That must be it! "Uh, no, um..." The girl ducked her head in embarrassment and tried again. "I'm not here for the festival; I live here in town."
Summoning a bit of boldness, she extended her hand first to Unegen, and then to Haroon. "My name is Tess Squires, and... um...welcome to Kenabres?" She smiled sheepishly, but pressed on. "The festival is something that really gets the town in a fervor, so you ought to have a splendid time. Did you have to travel very far to get here?"
The fox nestled under her capelet growled and yipped again at the diving raven, but the girl shushed him, pulling the kit into her lap and holding him there firmly. "Your Txamsem is fine, it's little Sorua here who thinks he's the bravest of the brave." At this she rolled her eyes, and the kit yawned. She thanks Unagen for the offer of a drink for her kit, but declines. "I've spoiled him too much already; soon he'll think he's a person too." At this the fox yipped again in protest. Tess shushed him, knowing she'd end up giving him some out of her saucer as soon as it arrived anyway.
"My book? Oh. Well, it's a few decades out of date, but it's about some creatures and monsters an adventuring party documented seeing on their trip to Mwangi. I'm particularly interested in these 'dinosaurs' they claim to have seen." She leafed through her book to place her bookmark where she'd stopped.
"Oh! A book! THAT's a book! I've seen those before." Haizi seems pretty proud of that fact.
"Ahh.... yes. Yes it is, you're right!" Tess has never seen such a wild-looking young man before, but attempts tactfulness, putting on her cheeriest smile, as the fox in her lap sniffs out the new beast in the bar. "The stew here is really good, isn't it? Are you here in town for the festival too?"
"I don't know what that is. I am here to meet other humans! This is Little Brother! We left the pack together. I am the alpha." Little Brother barks a protest. "I am looking forward to 'stu.' I see you use a tool to eat it, like a human." Haizi gives a know-it-all look to Little Brother, and you could swear the wolf rolls its eyes.
It had been a long journey to Kenabres. Tiberius had checked into the inn during the early afternoon and collapsed immediately on the bed in the room provided. A several hour nap helped wipe the road weariness from his limbs, and now he was awoken by noises from the common room. He had been too tired to dream, so it was the best sleep he'd had in ages.
He dresses himself in his sensible clothing, leaving his armor and weaponry behind. It takes time to put on armor, after all. What's more important now is food! Tiberius finishes dressing and heads to the main hall, settling his cloak about his broad shoulders with the clasp his late father had given him many years ago.
Tiberius is rather tunelessly humming to himself as he enters the tavern part of the inn and walks up to the bar. He briefly gets the bartender's attention and retrieves a few coins to pay for what he hopes will be a hearty meal and a good ale. He's heard good things about the local brews. He glances around and down to see who his neighbors are. A motley company, to be sure. He extends a large hand at the nearest one in greetings. "My name's Tiberius. I caught your wolf's name, but what's yours?"
"Call me Haizi, Tiberius. I am a human, like you!"
The older man smiles at the offer, but shakes his head. "I must politely refuse, young man. I'm a few years past the point where spirits and mead are wise thirst-quenching choices." He once again sips tea and continues watching the scene before him, almost as if reminiscing on another time.
Tiberius glances down at his hand, which Haizi seems to be making no move to shake. 'Something's strange about this one.' He turns his hand-outstretching gesture into a reach-up-and-scratch-his-own-head gesture. "Yes you are." After a moment of deliberating he continues, "So what brings you to town?"
"Oh, to be around my fellow humans. I aim to do many human things, like sleep in a bed, eat 'stu', and stare at books. Oh, and mate! Human women are very appropriate for me to mate with!"
As the young lady by the window sits back sipping her glass of wine she watches the weary and wary as they make their way in. She takes interest as the bronze skinned young man walks in. He clearly looked out of place and uncomfortable. Then she notes his holy symbol and perks up. With a "THUMP" she pushes the legs of her chair shes balanced on back to the ground and gets up. He looks like he could use a friend she thinks to herself and walks over.
"Greetings stranger, no need to sit alone, any follower of Sarenrae is welcome at my table, come sit by the window and enjoy sun, song and drink with me!" she states lightly, before waving back to her table and heading there, not even waiting for a response.
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The wagon creaked slowly down the road, pushing its way through the crowds on the streets. In its front, a man with a straw hat guided his oxen forward, coming to a halt only as they passed the door of the Defender’s heart. ”That'll be it then.” he says to the young man riding in the back.”I do appreciate ya helpin’ out with my wall. This old man just can’t do thems kinds things by himself no more. Ya sure you just wanted a round about the city?”
The young man, who'd been standing proudly, fist at his side and one hand on the cart’s rail for support, shook his head. ”Alas, I have taken all that is needed. Through this tour I have glimpsed everything this town on the edge of the world has betwixt its walls and I do think it was a fair trade, for a few hours easy labor.”
He walked off of the wagon and checked his vestments, adjusting the silver pentagram on his chest, kicking the mud and hay from his boots, and adjusting himself. When he had arrived at the Defender’s heart in the wee hours of the AM, there was hardly anyone there. Now, the place was alive with chatter on the other side of the door. He ran his hand through his hair, which was even more mussed than usual, and entered the tavern.
Once inside, his eyes traced across the room. As he walked toward the bar, he watched everyone: their weapons, their companions, and unbeknownst to him a grin grew wide across his face as he passed each one. He takes note of someone to his left (her right) who, at first glance, looked like an older woman. A double-take revealed her to be younger than her white hair suggested. He approaches the bar. ”Bartender, a slice of cake and a pint of milk, fresh, if you are stocked.” he says. He looks over to the girl, lightly rapping the bar in front of him before heading to her table, only to see her step off and go to greet someone else just as he approached her. He listens to her speak to her new found friend and pipes in as she’s walking back, ”Anyone here to send the rascals of the abyss back through the crack of the world is a friend of mine." he pauses, noticing her prominent scar for the first time. With an involuntary grunt he adds quickly, "Might I join you as well?”
"Did you have to travel very far to get here?"
"Indeed I did! My homeland is on the other side of the world - I travelled over the Crown of the World to see the Cruasade for myself."
"I must politely refuse, young man. I'm a few years past the point where spirits and mead are wise thirst-quenching choices."
"As you wish grandfather. But please do me the honour of buying your tea at some future time; respected elders should not have to pay for their meals when younger, less esteemed men are present."
Turning back to the barkeep, Unegen declaims "I must also try this stew! Perhaps it will taste strange to me, but I am certain that I will grow to enjoy it!"
"Certainly" her laughter sounding almost like the calls of a sparrow. "I make it my business to send the spawn of the abyss home." She waves at one of the chairs opposite the window and resumes her balancing act with her chair. She glances at the pentagram and her brow creases as she tries to recall it's significance Hmm well it doesn't remind me of anything demonic, oh well. "Who might you be, and what brings you out this fine day?" She questions Pollux jauntily.
"Oh, to be around my fellow humans. I aim to do many human things, like sleep in a bed, eat 'stu', and stare at books. Oh, and mate! Human women are very appropriate for me to mate with!"
Tiberius stifles a chuckle somehow. This man obviously doesn't live around other people, but speaks common well enough. "In my experience, Haizi, all of them things require money." He pauses a moment, considering. "Or charm for the women. They're both something both of us could use a bit more of, I would guess. So money it is. You have the look of a warrior about you, I should think. You should register for some of the tourneys they're holding for the festival. Could make quite a bundle if you win, eh?" He gives the smaller man a conspiratorial grin. "I'm hoping a victory in an arena would give me some notice by some bigshot crusader, maybe a nice position on a proper demon huntin' squad, right?" Tiberius gives out a deep throaty laugh.
As the young lady by the window sits back sipping her glass of wine she watches the weary and wary as they make their way in. She takes interest as the bronze skinned young man walks in. He clearly looked out of place and uncomfortable. Then she notes his holy symbol and perks up. With a "THUMP" she pushes the legs of her chair shes balanced on back to the ground and gets up. He looks like he could use a friend she thinks to herself and walks over.
"Greetings stranger, no need to sit alone, any follower of Sarenrae is welcome at my table, come sit by the window and enjoy sun, song and drink with me!" she states lightly, before waving back to her table and heading there, not even waiting for a response.
He blushed slighty not having expected anyone to so nonchelauntly yet directly call out to him. "I appreciate the offer". He began abandoning the table he had taken a seat at to move torwards hers just as another spoke up, Kelden frowned for a brief moment. He was pretty sure he recognized the silver pentagram.
"It is the lady's table, if she will have others join her here I have no qualms." He glanced back to the young woman who had invited him over. He also noted the scar once more frowning briefly for a moment. There was as story there, he was sure bur he would wait to a more sppropriate time to inquire about it. They had just met after all.
My name is Kelden Sunblade, Mostly humble servant of The Dawnflower. It is my pleasure and honor to join you here. He said making sure to glance towards the other young man offering a slight nod as a bit of a respectful offering. He wasn't sure why the dreams and visions had sent him here this far north, but it was hard to ignore the crusade as the probable focus.
"Money, eh? You mean these gold things!" Haizi drops a couple of gold pieces on the table. "Hahaha ...I give people this and they give me what I want ...amazong."
But then, at the mention of demons. "Demons. I know them. I wish to kill the demons."
"Indeed I did! My homeland is on the other side of the world - I travelled over the Crown of the World to see the Cruasade for myself."
"Ah, yes. The crusades..." Tess shrank back imperceptibly. "Um... well, it's good that they keep the demons away. I don't think the next battalion leaves for a while, though." She thanks Kimroth as he hands her a steaming cup of cider and sips it thoughtfully.
"You'd have a fair shot in some of the festival games, since you're sticking around," she says, nodding toward the whip. "And thank you for the drink."
Ce-Eshna notes the reactions to her scarring by her tablemates and shrugs it off. The worst part is other people seem to feel the pain I no longer do at a mere glance of it she ponders introspectively, oh well, best to just get on with it. "Now now boys, my face may be a little mussed but you can't be TOO picky in a place like this! Most of the mugs in here are far scarier than I!" she teases in her pluckiest tone. Brushing her white hair back she waves at the barkeep. "KIMROTH! Wave your stump at them some, might frighten the milk drinker and the new boy out of here before they end up like us! She hollers jokingly.
The front door pops open, and a young elf glides into the room with quick strides. Blond hair with a twinge of red flows from under his stout leather skull-cap, but it is drawn neatly back in a pony-tail. The fellow practically bristles with weapons. A shortbow and quiver at his back. Club and short sword at his belt, along with another dagger, next to the club. More dagger hilts protrude from the tops of his tall boots.
The burly, and short (for an elf) fellow grins. "And what's wrong with milk drinking... Barkeep, an ale for me, if you please."
Carilain had gone out earlier to have a look at the town. Now he's back, the bar is full of folks, and he's thirsty.
"I haven't had milk in a long time! Is there a mother around here?!? I bet human milk is amazing!" Little Brother let's out a grunt of meh.
Quite a crowded place. There's bound to be a game of dice or cards around in here somewhere!
The halfling moves through the tavern looking at everything and everyone with a keen eye. Shuffling left, then right, then right again, he moves through the crowd hoping to find something to entertain him for the evening.
Hmmm, maybe I'll just wait for the action to come to me. Anyway, I could use a drink! Xaivan finds his way to the bar and orders himself a small drink and grabs some cheese to go with it. Take it all in, you're in the big city now!
Carilain glances over at Haizi and his wolf. The elf is intrigued. He moves over close enough to have a conversation.
"Human milk is for human babies. 'Milk drinkers', drink cow's milk. Usually."
Carilain tilts his head to one side. "I must admit to curiosity. You certainly seem to be human, but your comments are odd. Seems like you know less about being human than I. And I am most definitely not human."
Kimroth Otai, a gruff scarred man, rushes about the inn and orders his staff about trying to keep up with the holiday crowd that has filled the city.
"Orla! Get us another pot of stew. Oh, is the next batch of bread finished yet? Nems, the bar needs tending get of yer arse and get back to work! The lass will wait till your finished if shes worth your time. Farak, good to see ya old friend. It's been too long since your last visit. You really mush share that ale recipe with me. The better to praise the Drunken Hero with."
He gives you a knowing wink. "I'd stay and chat with ye but its a busy time, and I doubt the fool that work fer me could handle the crowd without me."
Kimroth works quickly moving about the busy tables and barking further orders to his staff. Waving his stump of an arm about when one of the serving wenches drops a platter of food on the floor.
"Damn woman! They can't eat their dinner off the floor!" As angry as he sounds he still moves across the busy main room to help her clean up the broken plates. Despite the crowd the place is still large enough to house another fifty or so patrons, and as evening falls a singer takes to a stage along the north wall. He starts with a song extolling the greatness of Aroden and moves on to more bawdy music about the Taldin's wife.
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Pollux chuckles and drinks from his mug as soon as it arrives, sitting it forcefully on the table before him. "Pollux Chartagnion of Elidir, here via Egorian, the City of Thorns. I'm brought here in pursuit of the holy trinity of vices: gold, God, and glory. Though perhaps not in that order. I suppose I also want to kill a demon or two."
He looks at the two, eyes flicking between one and then the other. "And who might the two of you be? I've already picked up on your shared deity, but I know nothing about either of you." his grin is as wide as ever.
"Humans drink ...cow's milk? Do you mean blood? Cow's blood tastes very fine on cow's meat!"
After the elf questions him, he replies, "Ah, yes, I am human, but I did not know my human pack. Little Brother's pack ...my real pack ...rescued me from demons when I was but a pup. But it is time now that I am a human man full grown, so Little Brother and I set out to fight these demons." It takes a moment to sink in before he exclaims, "You are not human! You are elf! Oh, very honored to meet you. My pack taught me much of Ketephys. Do you also revere great Ketephys?"
"And who might the two of you be. I've already picked up on your shared deity, but I know nothing about either of you." his grin is as wide as ever.
The lass pops up sharply, a look of chagrin on her face, the chair dances precariously before settling on all four legs. "Well by the breezes I've been rude! I'm Ce-Eshna, I do my part by hunting the demons that stray too close." she blusters. She offers a good hard handshake to both the gentlemen before resuming her perch. She draws her dagger from her boot, shaves a few slices off her hunk off cheese and offers them to her companions. She casts a quick glance back at the young lady at the bar but seeing her still unmolested makes no move to approach her.
He colored as the pretty lady spokePollux chuckles and drinks from his mug as soon as it arrives, sitting it forcefully on the table before him. "Pollux Chartagnion of Elidir, here via Egorian, the City of Thorns. I'm brought here in pursuit of the holy trinity of vices: gold, God, and glory. Though perhaps not in that order. I suppose I also want to kill a demon or two."
He looks at the two, eyes flicking between one and then the other. "And who might the two of you be. I've already picked up on your shared deity, but I know nothing about either of you." his grin is as wide as ever.
"Now now boys, my face may be a little mussed but you can't be TOO picky in a place like this! Most of the mugs in here are far scarier than I!"
Was she... hitting on the two of them? he shook his head slightly destroying that thought. He had been too quiet on his travels this far north, so focused on his dreams and the like. "Kelden, Servent of The Dawnflower, like you I am here to further the Light's glory." He answered simply, honestly. The Ambiance of the Tavern was slowly beginning to seep into him some, he even smirked as the songs became Bawdier.
"I don't mean to seem so reserved, it has been a long trip from Sothis and in truth I spent more times in Temples than Taverns."
"Humans drink ...cow's milk? Do you mean blood? Cow's blood tastes very fine on cow's meat!"
After the elf questions him, he replies, "Ah, yes, I am human, but I did not know my human pack. Little Brother's pack ...my real pack ...rescued me from demons when I was but a pup. But it is time now that I am a human man full grown, so Little Brother and I set out to fight these demons." It takes a moment to sink in before he exclaims, "You are not human! You are elf! Oh, very honored to meet you. My pack taught me much of Ketephys. Do you also revere great Ketephys?"
The corners of Carilain's lips turn up in a small smile. "No. When I say milk, I mean milk, from the udder of the cow." Carilain likes beefsteak well enough, but he favors it a little less on the bloody side.
He nods his head in understanding. That explains much. "I lost my parents too. I was raised by my aunt and uncle though. Not by wolves. It is why I am here. I too have reason to kill demons.The face of the young elf man grows dark. "There are answers that need to be found.
Then Carilain returns to the present. "Katephys? No, I guess not. If I call on a god, it is usually Nethys. Though no one expects much from him." Carilain shrugs. The gods do what they do. Mortals must make their own way as best they can.
Tiberius looks over at the nearby elf talking to Haizi and swallows a mouthful of hot bread sopped in stew. After washing it down with a swig of ale, he wipes his mouth on the sleeve of his cloak. He then turns to the elf and says, while making no effort to keep his voice down, "Odds are everyone in here has a reason to kill demons. If you just want military service, join up with Lastwall. They can always use fresh hands, and orcs are more predictable than demons. But we're here, which means we're all just mad enough to go demon hunting. I can't imagine anyone would make the trek up here just for the festival."
He raises his tankard in the direction of the young girl a few seats down. "Even that local girl, I'd bet, has a bone to pick with the demons. At the very least, wanting to keep their corruption at bay and away from your home, right?"
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Pollux takes her hand and gives it a firm shake. He peers down at how his hands engulf hers, and clasps his thumb and index finger a little tighter then usual, the thinness of of her arm surprising to him. He holds it for a moment before letting go.
He nods as Kelden speaks, replying, "Indeed. I've spent much of my short life in the throws of this mission or that monastery. I can sympathize."
He finishes his milk and looks around, then back at his new acquaintances. He nods to both of them and leans back in his chair, rasping his fingers against the table.
The Door swings open and in steps a heavily armored dwarf. The local crowd grins and waves in greeting but the stoic dwarf simply gives them a nod while moving on towards his purpose.
"Hey Goron back from guard duty?
*Brief nod in reply.
The few travellers and guests in his way instinctly scatter for this dwarf carries an aura. Not one of intimidation but an elemental sense of power. His stance and broad shoulders speaks of strength of arms, his stride slow but sure and emblazoned on his armor is the sign of Torag.
Warhammer and shield slung over his back for easy reach, well maintained and greased, his armor is well polished and his tabard at least proclaims him as miltia. He however also wears an emblem proclaiming him to be a blacksmith. Clean and neatly braided, his beard falls to the front to avoid getting entangled and his eyes sharp.
Heading directly to the seat in front of the bar counter, he takes his place.
"The usual if you please, Kimroth. Looking forward to Armasse? I've pulled duty once more. Heh Heh Heh."
Carilain turns to regard the hulking man. "Right. Hold the line. Maybe even turn the tide. Or die trying."
Carilain sees no reason to bare his soul to just everyone he meets in a tavern. This fellow (Tiberius) seems like a decent sort, if a bit loud, but Carilain has no reason to tell his life story.
"Lastwall is a fine redoubt, I'm sure. Yet I am here, so this is where it happens."
He raises his tankard in the direction of the young girl a few seats down. "Even that local girl, I'd bet, has a bone to pick with the demons. At the very least, wanting to keep their corruption at bay and away from your home, right?"
Tess looks up at the mention of 'local girl' to see an enormous man pointing his tankard at her and postulating in a booming voice. We've all got a bone to pick with the demons, she repeats to herself, and she feels the color rise in her cheeks.
She stares at the hulking man, square in the eye, and for once, her voice doesn't shake when she speaks. "Yes, yes, we've all of us lost something to the demons, but they've given us all something as well." Tess pauses, and turns her head slightly to the left, exposing the right side of her face to the man. "I don't know about you, but they gave me a reason to fight."
Suddenly there's a muffled yip- glancing down, she sees that Sorua has taken this opportunity to get his muzzle stuck in her cider glass. With a giggle, she begins to free the kit.
Tiberius blinks a few times once the girl looks away and glances down at his once again empty tankard. He couldn't have had more than four. Maybe five. Perhaps six, but who's counting? The bartender, obviously. The ale here must be particularly potent to be affecting him already. He lets out a belch and says, "Oh, I didn't mean you should go there, elf. The place is just on my mind, and the alcohol's talking. You know how it is. Now if you'll excuse me, that song the minstrel is playing about the saucy maid would sound better if it had a few more voices joining in on the 'Yo, ho, away!' part of the chorus."
Tiberius claps Carilain on the shoulder and gives him a grin as he walks past. He leaves the empty stew bowl behind on the counter and takes a fresh tankard of ale with him. 'Perhaps a festival is just what I need. A chance to take my mind off of the demons for a while. I should just try to enjoy myself for a few days.'
Kyra stretches as she steps down off the wagon, taking the moment to dust off the road from her clothing; the journey from Sothis had been long and wearisome. Her father had brokered her passage from Sothis to Absalom on his merchant vessel, from there a skiff to Cassomir, and then a long, slow journey up-river on the Sellen to Egede. From Egede she caught a caravan to her destination.... Kenabres. The barge trip along the Sellen River was by far the most entertaining to the young woman, she had never seen such beautiful coloring on the trees as the seasons began to prepare for their annual change. 'There is nothing like this back home...'
A few quick words with the caravan master and Kyra was moving her way through the crowded streets towards the Defender's Heart, supposedly the largest, and by extension the best, inn in the city. The pretty half-elf returns all the smiles and grins she gets from the young men and boys as they all move about. She first heard about Armasse on her trip up the Sellen and strove to learn as much as she could about the celebration before her arrival in Kenabres; she was fascinated to learn as much as she could. After several minutes, the young dervish arrives in the common room of the inn to find it extremely crowded with all manner of individuals keen on the crusade.
Kyra's entrance is hard to miss; her exotic coloring and natural beauty make her stand out amongst the crowd. Her movements are fluid, graceful and deliberate as she dances through the throng towards the innkeeper. Her blue skirt finally settles as she stops at bar; however, her bright eyes never stop wandering as she orders a glass of white wine and bread from the barkeep, whose name she learns is Kimroth. Vibrant green eyes search amongst the crowd of unique strangers, all with their own stories to tell, until they suddenly stop upon a familiar sight. She spots the symbols of Sarenrae upon a fellow Keleshite engaging in conversation with two others. "Kimroth, be a dear and bring a bottle of mead and bread to me and my newly found friends over yonder." She points out Kelden, Ce-Eshna, and Pollux before patting the weathered mercenary on the cheek with a charming smile. "Thank you, love."
Before another word could be spoken, she was dancing through the crowd once more. Her movements come to a stop before the trio as she settles into a graceful curtsy before Kelden. "Brother of the Dawnflower." She addresses Kelden; he would immediately recognize Kyra as a Dawnflower Dervish by her movements and the scimitar that swings from her bandolier. "Pray pardon my untimely interruption, friends; however, the sight of one of my kinsmen from home took all such thoughts of courtesy from my mind. Might I make amends with mead and bread?" She nods her head towards the bottle of mead and loaf of bread making its way towards their table.
Noticing the entrance of his fellow dwarf, Farak moves toward him.
"Ahh, Goron. I see you've decided to grace us with your presence! Now, now, don't get too excited there Goron, we wouldn't want that smile to stick," the dwarf says, laughing heartily at his own joke.
"But seriously, will ye join me for a drink? This fellow here has already bought a round for the whole place! A true disciple of Cayden Cailean, this one!," he says, gesturing toward Unegen.
With a bow and a smile, the old paladin accepts the generous offer from the Tian man. "My thanks, young one. You certainly seem far from native shores, but I suppose the blight on the horizon threatens even places so far." He motions the serving woman for another pot of water, and pulls out small bag of herbs that he sprinkles into the new pot of hot water. Pouring out a cup after a short steep, he sips and sighs. "I see much of the patronage of this location are new to town, it appears I have chosen well for my first night in Kenabres."
The boisterous young lady pauses in her carousing long enough to watch the exchange between the large man and Tess for a moment. Get a grip, she'll be fine, though it doesn't hurt to watch her back., she shakes her head thinking. Then turning to the new comer uses her winds to push out an extra chair for her. "Another follower of Sarenrae? Well we aren't exactly rare here in the city but I haven't seen this many of us here in the Defender's Heart ever before. Take a load off! I'm Ce-Eshna! she says evenly. Going to have to watch this one, the pretty ones are always trouble... Well... maybe I'm just a little jealous... her reaction softens slightly. In a more welcoming tone she adds, " What brings you to the edge of the abyss? and offers the new addition to the table a slice of cheese as well.