The 16th of Arodus is a day of Festivity in Kenebres and this year promises to be no exception. Nearly two hours before the official start of Armasse and Clydewell plaza is already thronging. Jugglers and acrobats are competing for the crowds attention and the wagering is already fierce over impromptu contests.
The gaiety of the crowd only increases as you watch a pair of identical gnomish wizards dueling with butterflies of fire and ice. A crowd of youngsters cheering them on towards every more outlandish displays, one gnome nearly setting his own hat afire as a swarm of butterflies swirls about him.
Across Clydewell Plaza, the best seats for the oncoming ceremony are already beginning to fill. You don’t want to take too long if you want decent seats, or seats at all for that matter. Lord Hulrun himself, Lord of Kenebres, will be officiating the start of Armasse today.
Later, after the ceremony, the jousting tournament begins. A sight not to be missed as some of the finest knights of the crusade compete for the honor of the first dance with Lord Hulrun’s daughter at this evenings Grand Ball.
The well-dressed courtier seems to be comfortable in the crowd by the nobles as Lord Hulrun takes the stage. His dress and grooming seem to be similar to that of the nobility of Cheliax, the land of the devil worshippers.
The comely, androgynous man is dressed in a silk courtier's outfit, and he would look almost like manly perfection except he has a large 'unihorn' spanning his face and sticking out of the locks of luxurious black hair he wears long.
Rather than looking at the sparring matches, he seems to have his gaze lingering for moments on the other nobles as if making a quick assessment before moving on to the next. His mannerisms are reminiscent of an animal low on the food chain assessing the threats around him before drinking at a watering hole.
Let us see if you are empty as Chelaxian rulers, Lord Hulrun. I expect more of those on the edge of the Worldwound than in complacent Cheliax.
A tall dark skinned half elf shifts uneasily through the crowds. Crowds were new to her, but at least people were parting as much as they could from the person in the dirt and rain stained cloak. From what anyone could see she could be of Mwangi decent, but it would be hard to tell.
She moves toward a vendor selling roasted vegetables, digs into her belt pouch and produces a few coins for the snack. Some cheap jewelry jingles from her wrist as her hand extends from the dirtied cloak.
Ah, at last, something warm. Even in Arodus this land is much colder than I prefer. But my destiny leads me here, in Kenabres I shall find my fate.
She looks up for a moment, looking slightly puzzled at her current situation.
I wonder how Tobongo is doing, he should be safe in a nearby garden. In a city full of things such as this a walking tree should not be getting that many strange glances.
Maxwell was but a humble guard during the events that were presently taking place. Sort of an aloof guard, really, though he had no love for the job to muster. Typically, he stood against the wall and watched the gnomes play with their magic before turning to give a raised brow to the obvious Tiefling eyeballing the upper crust. "Fiends..." he mumbled to himself, reaching behind him and placing his hand on the flail that hung perpendicular to his back.
The sense of merriment in the air didn't appeal to him at all, as he was merely doing his job given the present situation; keeping the peace.
Around his neck he wore a small chain that happened to contain his holy symbol of Groetus, though it was nothing more than wood. It tended to separate him from the cheerier, more lawful deities and anyone that knew anything about faith immediately understood what that meant.
He isn't far from Lord Hulrun, really, though he stands against the audiences' side, awaiting patiently. Giving another glance to the Tiefling as he does so, he smirks. "If you keep sizing them up like that, I'm gonna have to rattle you." he says rather coarsely. His voice is a bit gravely.
Normally, Luci would be greatly enjoying the festival. Of course, normally she wouldn't be working security for the festival either. And it was only made worse by the fact that this was the first one since she returned from her training in Nerosyan. So, contenting herself with a cup of coffee from her mother's little temporary cafe, she watched the crowd while trying not to let her eyes linger on anything for long enough to make her miss someone causing trouble.
Not like I wouldn't hear any trouble first, though, she thought to herself, the most 'trouble' I'm gonna see today'll just be a drunk or two.
The dark-skinned half-elf caught her eye for a few seconds before pulling her eyes away with a shake of her head. No Luci, focus on the job; not the scenery.
Relieved to be in Kenebres again. Iomedae tries to take in as much as she can. From food to phalanx fighting, she samples everything. Always of course, aware of her skin in the sunlight. She makes sure to keep her face shaded. Wouldn't want the locals to start a witch fire.
Ah, Kenebres. A chance to find somewhere to wash the dust off his breastplate and - if Michael is lucky and talks fast - possibly even a decent place to sleep, although that's less likely given that he arrived a couple of days into the festivities. Chances are most of the good inns will be full already.
Still, the downtime will feel good. Michael wanders down the street, taking in the sights. The tournament might be fascinating, but everyone who's anyone will be there and the last thing he needs today is someone recognizing 'The Coward's Son' and taking offense at his presence. Sure, it's unlikely, but why press his luck?
Instead, he follows his nose to a cafe serving what smells like excellent coffee. The armored tiefling standing guard merits a raised eyebrow, but she's not even remotely the most outlandish person she's seen, and he's well aware of the rules -- unless they're outright attacking you, don't smite and reserve judgement until you've had a chance to get their measure. Instead, he just nods in greeting. "Good afternoon, ma'am. Is the coffee here as good as it smells?"
Quickly finishing her roast vegetables Tallina turns her nose upward and takes a deep breath through her nose, Coffee! That dark brew that gets anybody going in the morning, I could sure use a cup after the past few weeks without it. With the smell of coffee in the air, Tallina moves quickly through the crowd forgetting her previous concerns.
"One coffee please, with a bit of cream or milk if you have it, maybe a dash of sugar or cinnamon as well." she blurts out her order quickly, even though her eyes seem to be drifting over the entire crowd.
A few coins exchange hands, she turns around and takes her first sip, closing her eyes as the familiar taste brings a sense of warmth to her. When she opens them she sees the two armored figures, and is startled. So startled that she almost chokes on the coffee, not realizing how rude she must seem to the holy warriors she rushed past.
A few bangs of her fist against her chest and she turns to the tiefling and holy warrior. In a clear, albeit shaky from the coughing, voice she introduces herself.
"I am terribly sorry for being so... err rude before. Well met on this fine day of... what day is it again? I apologize, I have just gotten into town and was looking for a place to stay and clean up, I fear that I may have been in the wilderness for longer than I anticipated. I did not expect the city to be so lively."
Tallina sets her mug down on the coffee stand, pulls out a handkerchief that is clearly cleaner than the rest of her and wipes her hands. After a quick wipe she extends her hand with a slight jingle from the bracelets to the tiefling first. Tallina knows that while she may not be the brightest she at least knows how to be polite in the presence of others.
Gianetta whistles an old marching tune as she strolls through the throng. Armasse day was a welcome relief from living in the Worldwound's shadow. She flashed a grin watching the antics of the gnomish conjurers, joining her laughter to the children's.
Her stomach grumbling, she looks for someplace to eat. "That's what you get for skipping breakfast at the barracks," she chides herself. That cafe' with the sweet-rolls was open, and doing a bustling business it seemed.
Laris takes in the sights and sounds of the festivities, though she participates little. After seeing most of what she can, she settles down to watch the speech with a steaming coffee and some cream-filled confection from the small cafe.
As ever the population was varied, the worldwound attracted all sorts of adventurers, daredevils and the like, along with those seeking to make money from them.
Luci was caught a bit by surprise by the man speaking to her. Although that might've just been because of some of the people walking past.
"Better," she answered, gesturing to the stall, "Cheliax may have its flaws, but they know their coffee. Even if Mum does have expensive tastes."
The Chelish woman manning the counter just scoffed, "Hasn't stopped you drinking as much of it as me."
As the half-elf approached, Luci once more found her eyes wandering. The dirt and such was a bit of a drawback, but not so much that she couldn't appreciate what was under it.
Don't hit on her, Luci, she told herself, she's knew in town, don't go making her think bad of the town.
"Oh I wouldn't worry about being rude," she said in what turned into a rather flirty tone accompanied by a similar smile.
Damnit.
"Ahem; I mean, a little impoliteness isn't gonna matter on a day like today, and certainly not in a few hours." Her comment was punctuated by the sound of someone loudly communing with the gods in a nearby gutter. "Or maybe sooner than that, by the sounds of it."
((OOC: For reference; it's after 11 at night here so continued discussion may be a while coming.))
Michael smiles at the woman. "Excellent; I'll have some, then," he replies, then glances at the menu for pricing and what foods are on offer.
To the half-elven woman he replies, "Many of us have been stuck out in the wilds for a long time; you've nothing to worry about. Hopefully the inns will still have rooms for everyone tonight."
He sketches a bow. "... Ah, but where are my manners? Michael Carenae, faithful servant of the Inheritor, at your service."
Verim was already in revelry, throwing back mead and ale and roaring to his fellow Crusaders! The fairly built Taldon man raising his cup to the sky "LETS GIVE A SHOUT TO THE GREAT CAYDEN HIMSELF, AND LET THE GOLDEN BULWARK WATCH OVER US... NOW NOW MY FRIENDS, WHO WOULD LIKE TO BE DRUNK UNDER THE TABLE BY THE VERIM OF THE PHARAE LANDS? " he guffaws as he clasps arms with fellow soldiers as well. He stumbles around happily smiling and bumping into a lady who seemed to have a stomach with the roar of a Lion.
Giannetta wrinkles her nose at the stench of booze coming off the man. "It's a bit early in the day for me," she smiles, and heads into the coffee house.
Gianetta surveys the other customers as she steps up to the counter."One of your delicious sweet rolls please,"She fishes in her pouch for the appropriate coin, "Ooh that one," she indicates a roll with liberal icing. Taking a huge bite, she musters, "Good Armasse, everyone!" through a mouthful of roll.
Standing a few feet away observing the festivities with a wry smile, a middle aged, balding gentleman dressed as a minor noble steps forward in response to Verim's offer.
If your buying friend Verim, I'll certainly take you up on that challenge.The name is Gundahar, Gundahar Brandt, always a friend to the faithful of Cayden.
"Really, drinking already, I know it's a festival and all, but I wish people would try and have some dignity." Laris is laying down airs, but has a bit of a mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she says it just loud enough for the others to hear.
Not much one for paegentry, a powerfully built, mangy half orc only shows up when the jousting begins. Haunch of meat in one hand, he leans over the low fence demarcating the arena. He jeers and heckles the contestants, calling for more carnage.
"You call that a hit!? My grandmother could swing a pig sticker harder than you, and she's dead!"
"C'mon, you got him! Finish the sod, put him out of his misery already. This ain't a pony show. Let's see some blood already!"
"Once again well met Sir Michael"
Tallina attempts a clumsy bow herself to Michael as she is not wearing the floor length skirt she kept in her pack. Her face reddens a little as she remembers that she forgot to give her own name. Something considered very rude, and first impressions are always important. Looking down in her embarrassment she once again continues to speak.
Come on Tallina, just because Tobongo doesn't speak, does not mean you have to completely forget how to. Get it together, in a new town you always need new friends.
"My apologies, I am Tallina Kapok, I have been travelling for some time now, if my estimates are correct well over a year. And your name miss? I don't believe I caught it."
Verim staggers as he recovers from the quick collision righting himself soon after. Though the contact was only brief, he could tell she had a nice physique and softer skin than what he was used to, but those shoulders.. Yes something to watch for. For Verim was not truly drunk yet, only Buzzed and full of happiness. This was the time to be merry, as one never knew what could happen the next moment.
And I'd have to be just tipsy enough to deal with the mess
When the Garundi nobleman addresses him, Verim's face blossoms from deep thought to jubilee once more. He raises an arm in respectful greeting. " Of course friend Gundahar! What do I look like, an Abadaran?! I have given my fair share of praise to the God myself.. I simply want to share that with you all this day!..Though I worship Aqueros more than all. " a lengthy laugh bellowing from his chest and out his mouth. As Laris announces herself he grins and stumbles over to her, attempting to place a hand on her shoulder, smiling, " Oh? But that is exactly what is on the line dear madam! I provide the drinks, we all provide the entertainment, Your dignity is in tact if you do not lose! Why not join in!? Think you can give this Bodyguard a run for his money? I say do either you, friend Gundahar or fair lady think you have a chance to see who can proclaim Cayden the best, against Verim of Pharae?! "
His voice and face dimming a bit as he looks to the crowd in general but distinctly at his current targets.. " Besides..We never know when may need to fight a great evil... and that will sober any drunk.."
"Ah, sorry; name's Luciana Moretti, paladin of Lymnieris. The lady at the counter's Novennia, my mother." she said, trying to ignore the loud drunkard nearby.
"Yeah, I know; tiefling paladin, oxymoronic and yet somehow almost a cliché in the theatre. Trust me; I've heard all the jokes and comments. The other trainees with me were a bit... lacking in restraint." The small smile that accompanied it suggested that she'd managed to correct them well enough.
Tallina smiles looking down on the cafe and Luci, grabs her cup off its resting place and takes another sip.
"Fine coffee indeed, almost as fine as those from the Lost Colony, but this far north I can imagine it being hard to obtain fresh beans. Ms. Novennia you must be proud of your daughter. Being a paladin is no joke, a life that hard is something I could never do. But I am one who serves nature."
Looking Lucianna over Tallina respects the hard life of a paladin, the various oaths and hard work required is something to be admired, unlike herself and her fairly Hakuna Matata lifestyle. Tallina crouches forward to bring herself to Lucianna's short stature.
"Still a paladin nonetheless, what you are never means so much as who you are. If you want to compare stories, my best friend is a tree if you can believe that."
With a grin almost like a mischievous child Tallina stands tall, puts her fingers to her lips and blows a loud whistle followed by a few loud words that she hopes her friend can hear over the crowd.
"TOBONGO, GET OVER HERE!"
A few moments later, much of the crowd parts as the sapling treant comes trundling through the crowd eager to see his companion again.
Ever on guard, Maxwell sees the tiny sapling part the crowd. Maxwell had certainly seen his share of magic with his time in Kenabres, what with seeing the crusades first hand. He'd be leaving soon for those, he thought to himself as he held the holy symbol in his hand. Clenching it, he removed his mace, and followed it to the smell of coffee.
Maxwell didn't hold any ire towards whatever that thing was, and he was sure it was connected to some extravagant individual, but all the same he couldn't have something like that running rampant in the middle of the fray. He'd grown lethargic, anyways, and didn't much care for any daggers the Tiefling he'd talked to would be staring at him.
"Now just what the devil..." he says, removing his flail from his back and holding it by the center in one hand, following it.
Finally he sees the group that had surrounded the cafe. It was early in the morning, sure, he understood that, but "Colorful Crowd" did the vision no justice whatsoever. The tree thing made it's way there and found the company of a fur-wearing Half-elf. Not wasting much time with pleasantries, as per usual, he cut to the point. "Oye, you lot. Try to keep the familiars in check, will you?" he said as he gestured to the sapling. "I'll have no mischief today, if ever."
He came off somewhat gruff, but at the same time just as a man doing his job.
Verim was stunned for a moment, first he was proclaiming whimsey and camaraderie.. Then it seemed things got weird. As he posed the question to everyone around.. A Tree.. a moving sapling came into the picture. " Perhaps I need to thank the last man who challenged me to a friendly competition, for whether it was the best Ale I have ever had to grace thine lips or there is a walking tree in my eyesight! Maybe it wants in on some of the festival as well? I never had a drinking competition with a tree before however! HARHAR! " When the ever gloomy man in scale seemed most upset at this, Verim quirked a smile. " What's the long face for comrade? This is a festival.. You should be Festive! "
Hoisting his pint of mead, Gundahar gestures towards Luciana. The first toast of our little contest I dedicate to our lovely tiefling paladin. My dear, in this city you will find there is nothing oxymoronic about your choice. You will find many a paladin in this city are your kinfolk, all choosing to make a stand against their infernal nature.
A toast towards redemption. Each of us defines our own nature, regardless of birth. May we always choose to walk in the light.
Looking towards the yelling guard, the wry smile once more passes momentarily across Gundahar's face. Found a new pet have you Maxwell? I trust this one will be less likely to stain your pants leg than that badger you were chasing around last night.
Maxwell stops for a moment to listen to the boisterous man who fancies drinking against a tree. That thought aside, he retorts all the same. I'm about as festive as I'll ever be! Someone has to keep an eye on things around here, do they not?" he asks, letting the flail hang down.
Turning to Gundahar he sort of just slinks his weapon even further down with a bit of a shrug. "Far from it. You'd think this place had bigger worries than badgers..." he says, taking a moment to look around at all the Tieflings that were present. Oxymoronic was an understatement...
Verim raises his stein to the air. " FOr the beautiful Tiefling paladin! May the Golden Bulwark Bless us all this day and may Cayden's Luck show me how skilled her tail may be! To Redemption! To Festivities! To Nature for giving us this wondrous golden liquid! " He pounds back his drink and gives a relieved sigh, breathing out in satisfaction, laughing. He gives a disarmed face and courteous bow to Luciana " I mean no offense obviously! It is all in good fun. " he gives her a sincere grin.
His eyes lay on Maxwell again, making eye contact and pointing to his Crest Emblazoned upon his shield a Golden Gauntlet with Black Briars. " I'll have you know, you are not the only one on watch, We of Arqueros must be vigilant, but an not point does that mean you cannot enjoy yourself. Morale in high amounts is also a way of staying alert, otherwise despair can cloud your vision. "
It had been a long day on the road, and a festival was just the perfect place for Caleb to duck down and keep a low profile for a long time. For him, it wasn't a permanent stay, but a mere diversion to vent his frustrations and relax his body. He keeps to the side of the festival, scanning the crowd to make sure that no agents of Thrune or the Infernal Empire are mingling within the crowd. His eyes narrow at Fomiel, who appears to make no qualms about wearing Cheliaxian colors.
Let's hope that the hellspawn's loyalties lie with other parties...for his sake and mine own anger. he thinks darkly.
Caleb makes a polite show of buying a drink and toasting along with the rest of the other adventurers, as well as sampling various meals from the festival.
"Huh. I'll give them credit for their culinary talents, but I haven't seen anyone yet that can beat Meema's cooking."
He spots a crowd of adventurers gathered around a bar and makes his way to watch them souse themselves in Cayden Cailean's holy brew. A grin manages to break out from his usually grim face as he makes bets with passerby as to who will be the first to pass out and who will remain standing.
Shaking out his cloak one last time before placing it around his shoulder, Tristan reflected on the how good it felt to be free from the dust of the road. However fleeting that feeling always is, that feeling of being fresh does put a spring in one's step. Though the explosions of color that were going up around him and the smiles on the faces of everyone in the city also helped raise his own mood.
Throwing down a coin on the table of the cafe, he grabbed a mug and raised it along with the exuberant drinker. "If we toast to the good health and beauty of all who are here, there might not be many able to fully appreciate the sunrise tomorrow morning!" After taking a solid swig of the refreshing nectar, the thinly built man wiped off the foam from his mouth with the back of his sleeve before giving a slight hint of a smile.
"Not that the prospect of a night too good to remember is a downside." Looking around at the... interesting collection of men, women and others around him, Tristan found himself wondering how many were likely just like him. A visitor to this fair city and yet already so eager to call it home. Shaking his head slowly, he thought about the fact that while some might be coming to Kenabres for similar goals, none were likely to understand his anger and his shame. "I count myself lucky to have arrived just days before this grand celebration.
"Anyone who has been here for some time have any hints as to where best to spend some coin?"
"Despair can cloud your vision" Eh? Maxwell smiled, though most certainly not one of happiness. If anything it was because of how little that sentence made sense to him. I wish it could... he thought to himself. Unfortunately enough, his vision was all too clear, and although it didn't always make the best of sense to him, it was certainly very, very clear.
"I like to think I can see just fine." he said with a hint of sarcasm and a rather fake smile.
In response to the ranger's query, Caleb responds:
"You'd be best spending your hard-earned coin on the food and drink, stranger. While its the perfect time to let loose and relax, just take care to be moderate in your consumption. The last thing everyone needs is a mass outbreak of worship to Cayden Cailean in the morning to plead mercy for the hangovers..."
Amy looks over the others as they drink and be merry. She looks for Ferick, who seems to have disappeared into the mass of people. Where is that crazy halfling? He's going to get stepped on. "Ferick! You better not get yourself trampled to death!" Amy shouts as she searches. After there is no immediate reply she goes back to studying the others from off to the side.
"Well it's the perfect job for someone as pig-headed as her." Novennia joked before moving to deal with the influx of customers.
"The beans aren't too hard to get ahold of; she gets them off a merchant who's used some sort of magic to keep them fresh in transit. He charges a bit for it, but it's worth it. Although the blend is only half the equation; see that brass contraption she's using?" she gestured to the tall device that had part of itself over a low fire. "Newish thing from Cheliax; about the only thing mum brought with her when she left - or at least the plans for one. Forces water through the coffee grounds under pressure, that's what lets the oils form that light foam on-top, called a crema. The brewing method's called espresso - no idea where the term comes from, but it works a dream."
As Tallina mentioned a tree, she remembered something a friend had mentioned earlier. "Wait... don't tell me..." She stopped as the tiny treant arrived. "Sandra was telling the truth?! Gods; I'm never gonna hear the end of it from her!"
After getting over her shout, she nodded to the drunkard who toasted her while hoping that he wasn't getting his hopes up.
"Light of the Sword..."Gianetta mumbles as the tree enters the shop. "The gnomes have really outdone theirselves this time."
Greeting her long time friend, she pulls out her water skin and douses the treant with water to reward him for listening so well. Glancing at the brass machination used to make the coffee Tallina is impressed. She also peers around Tobongo to see the grim looking guard.
"I apologize sir, but there will be no trouble here. And what's wrong with badgers? They make good pets so long as you train them well enough."
Ruffling Tobongo's leaves she raises her coffee cup for the toast, it is far too early to honor the drunken hero. On the note from the gentleman who also bought coffee she realizes she does not have a place to stay for the night.
It might be a good night for a bed rather than a dry spot on the ground. My back might like it.
Arching and stretching her back she gets a few cracks out of it before asking around.
"That does remind me though, anybody know of an inn or such that still has rooms available? I just arrived in town, and I could use a roof over my head while I am here."
Ferick moves with stride through the spectacle. He surely admires everything around him so far, but he is carrying drinks to have a little toast to his lovely wife. "I have brought drinks my dear." He smiles up at her, having to raise his head up to do so. This might be a strange sight for someone to call these two, man and wife. Love had no reason in Ferick's heart, only passion. She had much more reasoning than he had anyway in his whole life. "Let us toast to this wonderful event."
As the woman responds in kind shortly before stretching, he listens to her response. "Very good, then. There's an inn not too far from here. Despite the festivities there are still plenty of rooms." he says stonefaced. "Most tourists don't wish to spend a night in this place since the worldwound is at our backdoor." he says as he sheathes the flail upon his back.
Looking beside of Tallina as he raises his head after thinking for a moment, Max's skin goes pale for just a moment, if only because the image of his long-dead son happens to be standing next to her. As usual, the vision is enough to make his heart ache, but he ignores it for the most part. "B-Badgers are no trouble. It merely caused Mischief the other day because a certain gnome allowed it to wander about unchecked." he says as he looks down at the sapling.
"Though I don't think we need to worry about that stealing food..." he says as he watches the tree shake the water from it's branches.
Looking at the woman again, he can't help but notice she's a little out of sorts. "The rooms will not be full after the festivities. If you need an escort, I'll do anything to get out of this damnable duty..."
TruStrike sits down at the bar and removes his hood. His white hair braided neatly and a kind look on his face, he glances around at all the faces. "Armasse sure does draw a crowd" He thinks to himself.
He looks to the barkeep, "A pint of ale please, and something warm to eat if ya've got it."
Michael nods to Gundahar. "Well said, friend. None of us had a choice in how we came into this world; what truly matters is what we choose to do with the beginnings we're given."
He pauses a moment to sip his coffee, eyes closing in sensory bliss. "... And let me just add that I'm profoundly grateful for the choices you made in particular, Milady," he finishes with a smile towards Novennia.
When the treant comes ambling in Michael stares, as surprised as nearly everyone else, then frowns down at his coffee for a moment as if suspecting it of containing intoxicants before shrugging. "... Well, that's unusual." he manages.
Amy looks at the Treant in wonder. Surely this must be a hallucination. What would a creature like that be doing here? She takes one of the drinks that her beloved Ferick brought. "Ferick, do you see what I see?" Amy continues without waiting for an answer. "What is that doing here?!" Amy says quite rudely before taking a swig of her water. She remembers telling Ferick that she doesn't drink alcohol because it dulls the senses. A smile finds its way onto her face as she realizes Ferick remembered that even amongst the excitement. She looked at him before leaning down and grasping his hand to lead him into the group of other people.
"Well, just when I thought I was used to the surprises in folk here, along comes a walking tree. Tell me friend tree, do you speak, or you merely a pet?"
Looking away from the gruff but polite guard, Tallina has enough time to respond to the woman who is trying to speak with Tobongo.
"Oh he cannot speak just yet as he is still just a little one being only six feet tall. But given enough time I'm sure he could learn if he wanted to. Regardless I can tell roughly what he wants or needs, sometimes it gets a little tricky but it all works itself out in the end."
Seeing Sir Michael looking at his coffee in confusion, Tallina has to stifle a small laugh.
"Unusual to you yes, to me it is rather normal. If you were looking for another kind of pick me up in your morning coffee I'm sure the boisterous warriors outside can most certainly add something to your brew."
Returning to the guard about the inn she can only bow and reply.
"Oh I could not possibly trouble you to go out of your way like that, but I can ask for directions. I can most certainly find my way, I did find myself here all the way from Kyonin on foot. It did take a while, but I made it."
Another tiefling, how strange. More surprising than a walking tree.
Fomiel approaches and watches with curiousity. He had found his way to move through human society with politeness and grace. Her brazen ways intrigued him. Always one to learn, he carefully watched the reactions of those around her.
Petravus watches the growing crowd and the conversation with interest, I would never have thought there'd be such gaiety... and frivolity, really.... with the Worldwound so close and the Crusaders.... I suppose it's just one most example of how people have refused to give into the darkness and evil....
The paladin's comments about not choosing how we come into the world snap him out of his thoughts, causing him to chuckle slightly. He raises his mug of what is the finest coffee he's had in salute to the paladin, "Well said.. Though I will add that for some, half the game seems to be realizing you've a choice to make in the first place.... especially when there are others who seem to suggest otherwise..."
He smiles and takes another pull from the brew in his hand, I was right to come here.... And I'm happy to see that there is actual life being lived here, and not just the grim darkness that some of the Andorans I sailed up with suggested...
Noticing the small crowd gathering around the walking tree, Caleb picks his way towards the intelligent plant. He takes a brief look at his drink to make sure its the same one he's been nursing for a while before whistling in amazement. This one was definitely going in the books.
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Oh, my lady...you would have loved to see this for yourself...
He takes out a well-worm journal and begins to sketch a drawing of the treant in a fresh entry of the already-yellowed pages. He approaches for a closer look to more accurately render the shading of the bark and its coloration in the dim light of the shop.
"Excuse me, Master Plant," he addresses the treant in a gruff but polite tone of voice. "Do you mind telling me where your owner is? I've been a gardener all my life, but I can scarcely imagine the quality of the roses I could grow with your meals. I have half a mind to take what she's been feeding you and give it to the gardeners of the Bremley estate!"
He then realizes what he just did. "I'm talking to a plant. Gods, I think that even the one beer was too much for me to handle..."
Laris smiles at Talina, her eyes wandering over her as she tries to put her in a context she understands. Finally noting the symbol of the Green faith she wears, a slight look of relief crosses her.
"Ah, you are a Druid, I have little experience of the wilds, being a city girl at heart. Still I go where duty takes me."
Ahh, our second toast of the day then, and this round is on me.
Hoisting his second tankard of ale in Laris' direction, Gundahar's smile seems almost genuine this time.
To duty, and the fulfillment of obligations.
Laris nods her head to Garundi gentlemen. "You'll excuse me if I don't drink, it is a little too early for me."
Grinning, even with her dirt covered face Tallina peers around Tobongo to see the man talking to Tobongo.
"Oh no worries, I talk to him all the time. As for what I feed him, aside from clean water he does absorb nutrients from the soil wherever we go. I have been watching over him for some time now."
Returning her gaze to the woman who knows a little bit about druidism. Her eyes sharpen as she takes a moment to be serious.
"You may go where duty takes you, I go where I am needed. Also yes, much too early for a drink but I will take my coffee."
Kaba had been making his preliminary laps in and around the crowds, looking, in no particular order, for marks, beautiful women, or fine whiskey. Kenebres was flooded with visitors, many standing out in remarkable ways. Religious types all over ...and total weirdos abound. Takes a hell of a cause to draw all this. But I've seen what those demons can do. Nothin worse out there, not even those devil-pricks in Cheliax. Just slaughter and filth walking the earth. Almost makes a man join in. Almost.
He had found at least six decent marks, but nothing so enticing as to act on at this point. Seeing a collection of some of the weirdest of the weird, he decides to drink a whiskey near them.
Caramel skin and hazel eyes seem an odd mix, especially with his jet-black hair. He looks to have at least some Mwangi blood, and some other things besides. But in this group, his vague ethnicity was hardly the most eye-catching visual.