The common room, of the World Serpent Inn, is anything but. The bar is made of a dark, liquid black stone that seems to absorb the light, and incredibly seems be all one piece. The man behind the bar is definitely a Drow, with his jet black skin, spiky white hair and red eyes. However, he also has a very dim, shadowy appearance to him and his right arm is that of a skeleton, stripped to he bone of all flesh.
There's a half dozen large tables all made of strong, solid hardwood and are big enough to seat ten. Looking at them, you are pretty sure giant crashing threw one wouldn't even dent it. The chairs surrounding each table are made of wrought iron, yet have incredibly comfortable cushions on them. Sitting in one of them, its very easy to not want to get back up again.
Scattered throughout the rest of the room are several smaller tables, all made of the same hardwood as the bigger ones. These can fit five around them comfortably.
At one such table is a fiery skinned man, with flaming red hair, juggling balls of fire, while at another is what appears to be a bum, telling stories to a few other patrons. The man's robes seems stained, the pulled back cowl looks to be a sack, and his shoes are mismatched.
Clif makes sure he has all of his arrows and that his red Keikogi is spotless, he was supposed to be the precision to act as the foil for the beastial fighters they usually sent him after, or teamed him up with, so he best look the part,
A little girl enters the tavern her hair of red and a barrette with pink bear ears and a dress of reds and oranges. She carries a hand stitched Teddy bear that definitely has seen better days.
As she enters someone was about to comment about children in the place but with a fiery from her that person realizes that she can take care of herself just fine. Its not uncommon to mistake her kind as human children.
She scan the tavern and her eyes stop at once at the man twirling the balls of fire.
she skips on over to him and pulls up a seat to watch. she seems almost entranced at the magic.
Near one of the corners of the room is a woman.
She has jet black hair up in a bun held with a pair of black chopsticks with silver trim. Her skin is stark pale and her eyes are golden yellow. she is strikingly beautiful with slight features and none too small cleavage that she makes no attempt not to show off. She has on a green tunic shirt with the silver trim and a pair of black pants with an iron bar in a pocket on the side and a parasol strapped to her back.
As she sits and eats a raw steak she surveys the people, assessing them and what they could do.
Regulars to the bar will know that she occasionally puts on burlesque dance show when musicians are in.
A small plantlike creature is rooted to one of the tables, small plants, grasses and mosses are growing next to the being...
a spear and set of armor, all covered in grasses, lay next to the creature,
two bark-like eyes peer out of the moss
Come on folks, just lounging around look lively and have some beer!
Tosses his head back and downs a full beer in seconds
So who's going to the arena with me? And which one of ya's feel like losing infront of a crowd of screaming adoring fans?
grins wide as he says this, beer dribbling down his chin and shirt
Annie turns and looks at the one interrupting her magic show.
Wow you have fans even when you loose? she asks half innocently and half challengingly.
Someone is missing a few crayons from her box, what are you 12? I could protect someone so small and cute in an arena, and it'd look great to the fans... but beating up a child? I definatly don't want to have to do that
"Some of us aren't in it for the fame. Unless fans mean money, in which case I'm all for it." Her voice is much like a sensual purr.
She finishes off her raw steak and gives the plate and silverware back to the bar.
"So, you're both in the arena roster? You got partners?"
She leans against the bar in a provocative pose to the tiefling.
She looks over to a pile of moss on a table.
The voice is that of wind through leaves, rustles and creaks...
"ssscussshesssess"
It does not budge, rooted into the wood
She raises an eyebrow and speaks to plant again.
She speaks to it in that language as fluently and in the same purr as her common.
The fans can make or break a fight that's otherwise even, you'd do well if you want to earn that money to also work that crowd!
cliff orders a drink and then says "excuse me, but I could not overhear, you are going to be in the arena" he raises his eyebrow looking over the plant thing and the lycan
Sure am, the name's Shy, and you are?
"Good to know."
She replies with a purr.
She turns to Cliff.
"I am indeed. Are you, or are you going to be one of my new fans?"
She approaches him and leans against him, affording a look down her shirt if he's one to risk it.
"I am a competitor," he says simply but giving the impression that you should feel silly for having to ask
cliff sits in a relaxed militant posture his skin has a golden tint and he wears a red and white Keikogi. he has gold eyes with slit pupils, on his back is a quivver with a few assorted arrows
"So there's a good chance we could be going against each other. I'd just be ever so greatful if you promise you'll go easy on this poor girl..." she says in her purring voice as she feels his bicep.
She is seated on the arm of his chair leaned across his lap with her shoulders on the bar.
"no promises, but I'll think about it" he grins smiling for the first time since you've seen him.
The door to the inn opens and a tall, muscular man enters the room. Moving with the grace of a predator, he is nevertheless somewhat loud as he walks in. You look over and can see why instantly--he has chains draped from his shoulders, crossing his chest and wrapping around his midsection. They are thin, but definitely there, and they are definitely hooked into his skin just under the collarbone. Also hanging around his shoulders is a thicker chain, this one with small spikes protruding from each link of iron. Under these chains is an intricate pattern of more chains tattooed all across his skin, with the occasional skull placed within their criss-crossed weaving. The ink runs all across his body, from two strands that begin under his eyes, down to his chest, all down his arms, and disappearing across his stomach into the loose trousers he wears. It's impossible to guess how far they continue, as he's wearing supple leather boots.
He is also clearly not human. He has several horns protruding from his bald head, and his eyes are pupil-free orbs of burning amber. He walks into the room with a small, knowing smile on his face, fingering one of the small talismans hanging around his neck--an image of a skull, with more chains hanging from the empty eye sockets.
He walks up to the bar and takes a seat. "Bartender? Some Chelaxian red, if you have any." His voice is clear and fine, but there's something... off about it. About the entire person, in fact.
Chelaxian red!? You should really go for their brandy, it has a certain fire if you get my drift the fellow demon says flatly to the new entrant. a small smile curls on his face
Alic turns to the other tiefling and nods, taking the stranger's appearance in stride. "Yes, which is why I am avoiding it for the moment. Best to keep one's body in fine condition, and to keep your throat clean and your voice clear, for the crowds, mm?" He says this as he shifts on the stool to look at you, which causes some of the barbs on his chains to scratch his skin. He leans on the bar as thin streams of blood begin to flow. "Tell me, what is your name, fiend-blood?"
Just call me Shy, that's what everyone else does. Looking at some of the entrants, I'm not sure this is going to be any fun. looking at the odd plant man and little girl
it's like babysitting and gardening...
"Ah, yes. It should prove interesting." Alic raises an eyebrow and looks at Shy with an almost mischievous grin. "And what do you think of me, 'Shy'? Think I'll be any fun in the arena?"
it's impossible to say until the blood starts dropping, you at least look like you can take a hit and can tolerate some pain, and that's half of what the fight is about, just out lasting the other guy
"Mmm. Good. I don't know how long I could last against someone as strong as you."
She brushes her hand under his chin.
"I don't suppose you know a good musician, do you?"
He grins, ego stroked "I suppose I could find one, why do you ask?"
"If you can find me a good one, I could put on a little show for you. I think you'd just /love/ it, darling."
Love is punctuated with a hand gesture that ends with her hand on his chest.
"sounds intriguing, might I have your name then" at this point his drink arrives at the table, he picks it up and takes a sip.
"Tacita. And yours? Or should I just call you sexy?..."
She continues to stroke his chest, tracing his abdominal muscles through his shirt with her fingertip.
Annie went back to watching the fire magician. clapping in appreciation of his skill with fire.
After his performance Annie goes to take a seat by the hearth enjoying the dancing flames basking in it warmth.
She listens to all the different conversations making mental notes of each.
She tries to grab hold of a serving wench, asking for hot tea.
"the name's clifford, though you may call me cliff or sexy if you prefer"
"I like Sexy. It fits you. Now. How about that show? Unless you have a different one in mind..."
Her head is leaned on his shoulder.
"well, today I'm going to be in the arena, soon I believe, so it may have to wait until after that is through," he takes another swig of his drink
"Mm, indeed. It is good to know that you think so." He nods, still fingering the unholy symbol. "Pain is reality, and part of all our lives. Even more so for those of us in our... profession. The more you accept, the more you enjoy, the pain, the better."
When the drink arrives, Alic takes a sip of it and looks over his shoulder at the woman fawning over the man at a table. "Take those two. I doubt they understand pain and the ways of the world. They will fall quickly, I think."
"Oh. Too bad. We'll have to wait..."
She gives a pouting face and continues to traces his abs.
"have you not heard it said, 'good things come to those who wait', or 'patience is a virtue'"
A rather tall, broad shouldered man with long black hair and blue eyes with black flecks in them steps out of the shadows around the center of the room, and address those within.
"Greetings, and welcome to the World Serpent Inn. I am your host Morin, and you have the pleasure of being in my house. I take it you all have found your stay comfortable so far? Is there anything you need to do before the fights get under way? Casting beforehand is prohibited, but there are other preparations that are allowed, all you need to do is ask" He speaks in a low, polite voice, with a very urbane, sophisticated tone.
A gloved hand raised quietly in the back of the room.
"Who shall be the first to step into the ring?" A sonorous voice questioned. Now that he had drawn attention to himself, it was difficult to think such a figure could be overlooked. If he bothered to stand up straight, no doubt he would tower over the rest of the gathered combatants. Apart from the splash of red of a scarf around the lower half of his face, he was dressed entirely in black. His voluminous coat could conceal many things but the keenest observers would notice a lack of obvious weapons.
A gloved hand raised quietly in the back of the room.
"Who shall be the first to step into the ring?" A sonorous voice questioned. Now that he had drawn attention to himself, it was difficult to think such a figure could be overlooked. If he bothered to stand up straight, no doubt he would tower over the rest of the gathered combatants. Apart from the splash of red of a scarf around the lower half of his face, he was dressed entirely in black. His voluminous coat could conceal many things but the keenest observers would notice a lack of obvious weapons.
The plant uproots itself, dons its weapons and armor... then strides to the ring...
You wouldn't want your main attraction to be a warm up act, I'll be second or third... or perhaps the finale...!
"So, who is chosen to go first?"
She stretches out luxuriously.
"Our first bout will see Tacita Venator and her partner Spirit of the Wild go up against Clifford "Cliff" Barton, and his partner, Little Annie!!"
,
The four combatants are escorted to one of the many, countless rooms of the World Serpent Inn, and your host knocks several times in rapid succession. The door then swings open, to reveal a plain, mundane bedroom. Stark even. Grey walls, grey floor, small bed with a pale white comforter.
He bids you each to enter, then shuts the door. Suddenly you are all transported to a massive gothic city, all mausoleums, crypts, and tombs.
"You have two minutes to prepare. Any spells casts during this time will automatically be dispelled. Seek out a high ground, find a spot to try and ambush your enemies, whatever you wish. When the time is up, a massive gong will sound, signifying the start of the fight. This is to the death, though any killed will be brought back to life.
Remember, you are a team. If you turn on your ally, you will be disqualified, and fed to my pet Daemon"
Clifford will climb to somewhere that seems stable, preferably at least 30-40 ft above any other surface, he then casts detect magic to try to find if there are any magical auras or traps up there.
A searing pain rips through your entire body, causing you to cry out in pain , and your detect magic is dispelled.
Morin's voice echoes in your head "That is your first strike. Strike two will cause true pain. You do not want there to be a strike three"
"you said the spells would be dispelled, you said nothing of them not being allowed to be cast"
"That's kind of explicit in what I said. If spells are cast beforehand, it puts not magic users at a severe disadvantage."
"your instructions should be more specific, besides, by choosing to study magic and not, say, traps, I am put at a severe disadvantage if I am not able to search for them with what I did learn, moreover because of this conversation,"