The White Wolf is the only inn in the town of Tanner's Crossing. The whole town is relatively new, but the Wolf is of recent construction. White pine timber lies on a foundation of stone and rises three stories in the air.
The top two floors are lodgings for the various guests who come and go from this town on the Marches of New Valeria, the colony established on Terra Nova. The ground floor of the Inn has one large common room, with a great fireplace in the center. Mounted above the fireplace is the stuffed head of large white wolf, giving the place its name. A long mahogany bar with a brass rail runs along the common room and various tables, chairs, booths, and couches fill the rest of the common room. The place is abuzz with smoking, drinking, and the murmur of conversation at all hours.
The proprietor of the White Wolf is a grizzled veteran of campaigns on the old world of Alderran named Aldred Cartwright. Most call him by his nickname of Top, a reference to his rank as first sergeant in the Royal Cavalry. He has a thick scar across part of his face, and is missing is left eye, which is covered with a patch. His temper is legendary when he loses it, and his forbearance for foolishness and fighting in his common room is extremely low. Many a hooligan or drunkard has taken a thrashing from this man, and many more will too.
Top Cartwrght's wife, a matronly saint of a woman named Maida, is the cook and hostess for the White Wolf. She is as sweet as Top is tough, and her food and hospitality make this inn the hub for activity that it is.
Two serving girls, in low-cut blouses and short skirts, serve the patrons. They are named Rose and Ella and live in the quarters behind the Inn. They are attentive and a bit saucy and keep things lively in the common room, even when times are slow.
A middle-aged man with a well-kept, chestnut beard, and enveloped in a cloak of earthy greens enters the common room. He keeps the hood drawn over his head as he takes a seat at the bar, as many stools away from the next patron as he can manage.
He quickly scans the room, as if to see if he's "safe" from certain individuals.
Good, they aren't here. Maybe they've learned.
He turns back to minding his own business and waits for the barkeep to come to him, in turn.
A lone elf, in buckskins, sits near a window, generally out of the way of the majority of patrons. He's not there to avoid them, he's there because he's learned that Top and Maida don't want him to leave with their dishes, he wants to be outside, and most of the patrons want him gone.
His meal nearly done, he scans the room again, keeping a blank face in an attempt not to provoke another fight by accident. His gaze skitters across an unfamiliar face in a green cloak, and then returns, as he looks closer, attempting to determine if this human is an outdoorsman or not. He decides that he can't tell, really, and hesitates.
He seems to wish to be alone. Approaching him could pollute the waters and prevent cooperation. I should attempt some business, and see if he chooses to respond.
He finishes his meal before rising and moving to the emptier end of the bar, where Danalf has perched. He waits patiently for Top's attention. "How is the meat lasting? Are you ready for me to hunt for more? The large boar was good for your business, yes?"
Danalf seats himself at the far end of the bar, and feels the heat of many glances on him as he sits there. At least it's not them looking, but still the feeling of being different, feeling unwanted is still uncomfortable.
The grizzled barkeep, Top Cartwright, nods at the newcomer. "What'll it be, friend? Afraid we are fresh out of Ionian red." A bit of a sneer cross his face as the says this, but he waits for any order Danalf wants.
Adair is one of a few who note the entrance of the stranger into the White Wolf. Many pass through this inn traveling to the marches, but few have the look of haunted fear and suspicion as this man. It makes Adair curious about him.
Slipping up to the bar, he catches Top's eye and when he's taken the stranger's order he replies to the elven hunter with a grim face. "Sshhh!" he hushes. "I you on for your skill as a hunter, but I can't have everyone in here knowin' about it. The men hunters'll come unglued if they find out I've hired a...well, you...to feed the place."
He frowns, the whole way of approaching this uncomfortable to his normally direct manner. He whispers, "Come back later tonight, to the back entrance, and I'll see if Maida needs anything." He slides a earthen mug of ale in front of you and waves away your coins with a conspiratorial gesture.
Danalf sighs audibly at the exchange and all of the implications it carries. Please, just your ale on tap.
After struggling with himself for a moment, deciding whether to address the message between the lines, he finally blurts out, under his breath but just loud enough for the barkeep, I fled that place, and those people.
He's been in Tanner's Crossing for some time, and to this tavern many times. Although this is the first time he's interacted with the barkeep, Danalf is aware he's probably been noticed every time and so this exchange has been building up. He only hopes to dispel it as quickly.
He glances quickly at the hooded man in the corner, watching him closely, and grimaces as he turns back. Another likely persistent prejudice to dispel.
Entering the Inn a moment of panic crossed Dinina's face, causing her to pull the hood of her cloak even further to obscure her face.
Dammit, I didn't think there'd be so many Ionaians here.
The woman contemplated leaving, but her stomach gurgle said otherwise. With a deep breath, she made her way over to a vacant table as far out of the way as possible. After flagging down a server and ordering some meat and ale, she carefully looked around the room. She was looking more for Ionaian solders and priest, as they would be the ones to drag her back to an unwanted marriage.
As Elise walks into the tavern, she too keeps her cloak on, trying to keep her ears covered. She has the look of a pilgrim, though she also has a bow strapped on her back. She looks around cautiously for anyone who might be associated with the Church of the Eight. What she sees instead is a bustling scene, and more than one hooded patron. It looked like she would fit right in.
As she heads to the bar to order food, she sees something that causes her heart to race--an elf, just sitting there, apparently chatting with the bartender. A real, full-blooded elf! She knew she had to start a conversation with him. Maybe he could help her understand what was happening to her.
Elise orders some bread and stew, and quite deliberately sits down beside the elf. "Hi, do you come here often? I'm traveling through town and really hope to save my precious little coin by hunting for food when I can. My name is Eli--er . . . Dana." She smiles to try to cover up her mistake.
The woman entering The White Wolf was a bit over 6' tall, with hair so blonde it was almost white, and almond-colored eyes. Where many her size might be bulky she was lean, yet other than her breasts she seemed to lack any sort of body fat. Extensive tattoos covered her arms, each of which seemed to tell some story or another. All of this clearly marked her as one of the sea wolves.
Today she was wearing her usual outfit: tunic with sleeves removed (Which showed off her tattoos), leather breeches that only went down to her knees, and strapped sandals on her feet. A pair of whips rounded out her attire, one sat coiled up on each hip. While one was a normal whip that animal trainers might use, the other was made of metal and covered in spikes that ended in a weighted ball. It was a wonder she didn't harm herself just walking around wearing it.
Katze had already garnered a bit of a reputation for herself: during the journey to Terra Nova, she had been found floating unconscious on a piece of flotsam and brought aboard. It was there she was discovered to be one of the raiders from the north. Many called for her to be tossed back overboard, but the captain refused, saying that he would never leave someone to the sea, regardless of his personal feelings.
Once the fleet of ships arrived in Terra Nova, another incident had only further strengthened her burgeoning reputation: one of the colonists debarking from a ship began yelling at his wife, and then struck her. As he reared back to strike her again, he suddenly found himself lifted off his feet and flung across the makeshift roadway, to land in a heap. When the man moved to rise, Katze was standing over him, and proclaimed loudly enough for all to hear that if she discovered that he had raised either his voice or his hand to his mate, she would take said said limb. She then helped him to his feet and made her way towards the area where people were setting up tents.
………………
Today, however, Katze seemed to be in a good mood. Walking up to the bar, she said "Give me a jack of whatever you have to drink, and I'll buy one for the room as well." then tossed a gold coin to Top.
The elf turns to the woman as she addresses him. "I am glad to meet you, Ellier Dana. I am Adair. Yes, the bounty of Aradia provides far better than coins do, if you respect her gifts?" He looks into your eyes while speaking with you, giving you his full attention.
[dice=Perception, DC12]1d20+6
Danalf sighs audibly at the exchange and all of the implications it carries. Please, just your ale on tap.
After struggling with himself for a moment, deciding whether to address the message between the lines, he finally blurts out, under his breath but just loud enough for the barkeep, I fled that place, and those people.
He's been in Tanner's Crossing for some time, and to this tavern many times. Although this is the first time he's interacted with the barkeep, Danalf is aware he's probably been noticed every time and so this exchange has been building up. He only hopes to dispel it as quickly.
He glances quickly at the hooded man in the corner, watching him closely, and grimaces as he turns back. Another likely persistent prejudice to dispel.
Top sighs and reaches for the tun of ale to pour out a mug. "Well then, officially, welcome to New Valeria. First one's onna house, mate. If you're runnin' from them, you must be good people. Jus' careful in these parts, as most'll assume you're upta no good, jus' cause the way ya look an' talk. Not in here though, the Wolf is politics free. Just here to pour a bit and eat some fine food, eh?"
You see Top moves down to speak with an elven fellow (!) seated nearby. The man at the corner table takes in the scene, his head never moving from looking in your general direction.
The ale is cold and tasty, just a hint of sweetness to it. The place is filling up fist, Danalf notices, perhaps even a few of his kind in here, but they seem to fresh-faced to be agents looking for him. Still, you could never be too careful.
Entering the Inn a moment of panic crossed Dinina's face, causing her to pull the hood of her cloak even further to obscure her face.
Dammit, I didn't think there'd be so many Ionaians here.
The woman contemplated leaving, but her stomach gurgle said otherwise. With a deep breath, she made her way over to a vacant table as far out of the way as possible. After flagging down a server and ordering some meat and ale, she carefully looked around the room. She was looking more for Ionaian solders and priest, as they would be the ones to drag her back to an unwanted marriage.
Hood up and dark table, Divina tries to remain incognito, but her attempt to stay unseen really only draws attentino to herself. One of the barmaids, Rose, with strawberry hair and a freckled complexion stops and asks the newcomer her order. "You can take the shroud of in here. It's spring goin' on summer, and it'll get warm in here as the place fills up. Somethin' cold to wet your whistle?" she perches there until an order is made, and then saunters off to get it filled.
Divinia takes a quick peek around the bar. There are none openly wearing hte livery of the One God, and no soldiers of any stripe sat here. She did see a camp of soldiers camped out near the river when she crossed, but they were flying the red griffon not the black crescent, so she thought it safe enough to pass by. The trip across the wilderness from the Ionian settled lands was harsh, and she was tired, hungry and in need of a bath -- at least once the coast seemed clear.
She spied on mysterious looking fellow in the near corner, his own hood also drawn up obscuring his eyes. He seemed to be looking at the bar, but it was hard to say for sure. The rest of the common room seemed to be dining, drinking or making polite chatter. Maybe it was okay to let her guard down a little. This was New Valeria after all, if only barely.
Elise forgets her troubles as she spies a real-live elf at the bar and immediately enjoins him in conversation. She is so busy chatting up the fellow that she doesn't catch the double take and look of derision from the table nearby.
Katze turns and looks at the Elf who approaches her, gazing intensely at him. "Hello Adair. My name is Katze. Who, or what, is Aradia?"
"Politics free," indeed. the wizard mutters, the previous sleight still fresh in his mind. Never-the-less, hospitality did follow. He offers a quick, I thank you as he picks up the mug.
He looks back and sees the figure in the corner still fixated on him. Danalf turns back to the bar and quickly downs his ale, perhaps to make the next decision easier.
Stepping down from his barstool he strides across the tavern floor and towards the corner table. He gets near enough to the opposite side of the table to stand amidst the chairs but makes no motion nor request to sit down.
I notice you've been eyeing me persistently. Can I help you?
He issues it sternly, making it clear that he doesn't appreciate it and doesn't really expect an answer that will lead to a friendly, meaningful conversation.
The elf turns to the woman as she addresses him. "I am glad to meet you, Ellier Dana. I am Adair. Yes, the bounty of Aradia provides far better than coins do, if you respect her gifts?" He looks into your eyes while speaking with you, giving you his full attention.
Elise blushes, both from the elf's interpretation of her mistake and his piercing gaze. "It's just Dana, please," she says, looking away, before looking up again and smiling. "Nice to meet you, Adair."
Katze turns and looks at the Elf who approaches her, gazing intensely at him. "Hello Adair. My name is Katze. Who, or what, is Aradia?"
.
Elise is rather startled as another patron sits on the bar beside them--the one who had ordered drinks for everyone. "Hi Katze. Nice to meet you. Aradia, I believe that is the all-mother the elves worship? Not the sort of thing I learned in my lessons, but the sort of thing I was curious about anyway."
Elise fumbles around her neck for a moment to reveal a necklace bearing a holy symbol, which she shows to the elf and strange woman. "This is the symbol of Nyah, goddess of earth and mother nature. She is caring, nurturing, and lady of the harvest. It's her I follow. But you'll be glad to know that Nyah believes in respecting the earth and her creatures."
She quickly puts the necklace away again--it seemed she did not want it visible. "I don't mean to be too forward Adair, but I overheard you talking about snaring a boar. I mean, not that I think I could really handle a boar on my own, but perhaps something more modest. I would truly be in your debt if you could show me where to go for good hunting here." As she awaits an answer, she finds herself staring not at Adair's eyes but rather his ears--even sharper versions of her own.
Hood up and dark table, Divina tries to remain incognito, but her attempt to stay unseen really only draws attention to herself. One of the barmaids, Rose, with strawberry hair and a freckled complexion stops and asks the newcomer her order. "You can take the shroud off in here. It's spring goin' on summer, and it'll get warm in here as the place fills up. Somethin' cold to wet your whistle?" she perches there until an order is made, and then saunters off to get it filled.Divinia takes a quick peek around the bar. There are none openly wearing the livery of the One God, and no soldiers of any stripe sat here. She did see a camp of soldiers camped out near the river when she crossed, but they were flying the Red Griffon not the Black Crescent, so she thought it safe enough to pass by. The trip across the wilderness from the Ionian settled lands was harsh, and she was tired, hungry and in need of a bath -- at least once the coast seemed clear.
She spied on a mysterious looking fellow in the near corner, his own hood also drawn up obscuring his eyes. He seemed to be looking at the bar, but it was hard to say for sure. The rest of the common room seemed to be dining, drinking or making polite chatter. Maybe it was okay to let her guard down a little. This was New Valeria after all, if only barely.
After thinking about what Rose said, Divina decided to take off her cloak. Her shoulder-length fiery hair was a bit tangled, but a quick bath and a brushing would do wonders.
Oh Hells, I left my brush on the boat. Well, I guess I'm going to have to see the local merchant in the morning. I wonder if there are rooms available?
After getting her food and drink Divina looked about the room. The Ionians still made her nervous, but since none were soldiers or priests, it's not likely they've heard about Ser Crathen's runaway bride. Though her gaze kept falling upon the one in the corner for some odd reason.
Once she was done, Divina went to the bar, "Excuse me, Barkeep, are there any rooms available in town?"
"A pleasure to meet you as well, Elise." says Katze with a nod of her head.
After Elise hesitantly shows her holy symbol then hides it, Katze says "You should consider just getting that tattooed. It will prevent you from having your symbol be lost."
Litsy spent her first two weeks in the New World striving to put as much distance between her and the harbour of the Marches as possible. Thanks to one of Cleos' smiling whims, she had left town with a merchant caravan that had let her tag along in exchange of a couple coins. The caravan had reached its destination many a sunrise ago, and Litsy hadn't felt safe enough to stay for more than a day. Too much open distrust, too many sneering side-glances, lingering on her short, slender frame and her backpack. People didn't look too fondly at Ionians, especially the ones who travelled alone and didn't seem like they would fend well should a bad encounter get them in trouble.
She didn't blame them too much. Paranoia and barely veiled violence were something you were used to on the streets. Travelling on foot had nonetheless been a stressful experience, following the main road and constantly shooting nervous glances over her shoulder, imagining a knife-wielding ruffian behind every tree. Abandoned houses and back alleys, she could deal with, but meadows and forests? Where did you even hide yourself if you spotted a moving shadow? How could you be silent walking on twig-covered grounds that could give away your position at every step, at every snap?
She had been lucky not to meet anyone. The nice cook of the caravan had warned her that Tanner's Crossing was a small town and that wanderers were rare, but as long as Cleos ruled over the life of men you were never safe.
Now, a weary-looking girl with olive skin and muddy boots pushes the door of The White Wolf Inn, her wanderlust replaced with the much more humble ambition of finding a warm meal and a soft bed. She walks up straight to the bar, her gaze wandering lazily across the room, taking in her surroundings.
"Hi. How much for a hot meal and a glass of ale?" she asks the bulky bartender. He is taller and more muscular than Connor, but her voice is sure and unafraid. He has the gruff face of someone who will not hesitate to throw out anyone who starts trouble, and she has no intention of causing any, which makes them as good as friends in this trade.
The inn is already bustling with activity, and she sees no isolated wanderer who would be interested in talking business and alliances yet. Leaning on the bar with her elbows, Litsy lazily eavesdrops on the conversations around her, and starts observing from afar a tense-looking and agitated man accost another bloke.
Those types of things rarely ended well.
"Dana, then." He waits for her to continue.
After she tries to describe Aradia, the elf lifts his chin in assent before smiling. "The description is restrictive, but you have a concept of Aradia. Nyah sounds like a potential friend."
And once she asks about hunting: "A hunting journey? I could do that. The trick to taking a boar by yourself, of course, is not letting the boar have an opportunity. Elevated in a large tree waiting near laden berry bushes can simplify that problem." He laughs at his own comment.
When Katze recommends getting a tattoo, the smile fades and his right eyebrow climbs his forehead.
T
Today, however, Katze seemed to be in a good mood. Walking up to the bar, she said "Give me a jack of whatever you have to drink, and I'll buy one for the room as well." then tossed a gold coin to Top.
The grizzled barkeep caught the gold coin with surprising dexterity, and bit the edge to verify its authenticity. The white-blonde woman was boisterous, but if her money was good, he'd pocket it. He slung a leather cup full of the local whiskey to the newcomer, and began filling drinks around the bar until her money ran out.
Several of the locals lifted their cups in greeting to the woman. One man downed his drink quickly, a grimace on his otherwise pleasant face, staring down at the table in front of him, oblivious to the good cheer all around.
"Politics free," indeed. the wizard mutters, the previous sleight still fresh in his mind. Never-the-less, hospitality did follow. He offers a quick, I thank you as he picks up the mug.
He looks back and sees the figure in the corner still fixated on him. Danalf turns back to the bar and quickly downs his ale, perhaps to make the next decision easier.
Stepping down from his barstool he strides across the tavern floor and towards the corner table. He gets near enough to the opposite side of the table to stand amidst the chairs but makes no motion nor request to sit down.
I notice you've been eyeing me persistently. Can I help you?
He issues it sternly, making it clear that he doesn't appreciate it and doesn't really expect an answer that will lead to a friendly, meaningful conversation.
As Danalf approached and accosted the hooded man, the stranger hissed in a voice that was clearly used to giving commands. "Sit down, and stop drawing attention to yourself. You have the subtlety of a bull in a china shop. Sit, now!" His jack-booted foot pushed out the opposite chair, and his mailed glove hand made a motion that indicated, if not exactly welcome, then at least tolerance.
Elise (Adair and Katze can hear this conversation as well)
Top Cartwright slides one of the free drinks courtesy of Katze, just as you show Adair and the others your holy symbol of Nyah. His eyes raise in wonder, and when the moment is right, he interrupts your conversation.
"You're trained in the holy ways of The Eight, yar? I seen yer symbol, sorry t'intrude. If'n I might, there's someone I'd like t'introduce yeh too. He's lookin' for a priest to help with somethin' delicate like. You in?"
For whatever reason, he has not seen or noticed your mixed race yet, or if he has, it he has not commented on it.
Katze took the leather cup, stared at it for a moment, and then drank from it without comment.
After thinking about what Rose said, Divina decided to take off her cloak. Her shoulder-length fiery hair was a bit tangled, but a quick bath and a brushing would do wonders.
Oh Hells, I left my brush on the boat. Well, I guess I'm going to have to see the local merchant in the morning. I wonder if there are rooms available?
After getting her food and drink Divina looked about the room. The Ionians still made her nervous, but since none were soldiers or priests, it's not likely they've heard about Ser Crathen's runaway bride. Though her gaze kept falling upon the one in the corner for some odd reason.
Once she was done, Divina went to the bar,...
The bar keep, clearly a veteran of some old campaign, is leaning on the bar, speaking to a Valerian girl who is surrounded by an elf and a tall, brawny blonde woman. He's clearly busy at the moment. You hear him say something about a fellow needing help and then he waits for the cleric's response.
Litsy
The barkeep is engaged in some other conversation at the far end, but one of the serving girls, a dark haired shapely girl named Ella, pushes a free drink into your hand from a tray she is passing around. "Top's a bit busy, miss," she says. "Have a seat there," she points at an empty table which happens to be near where the man is accosting the hooded fellow, and continues " and I'll get your order in a sec, 'k?" Ella wanders on without waiting for a reply the busy room calling out for her attention.
It seems to be the only unoccupied table at present, and as you weave that way, you see the cloaked man kick the chair out for the other fellow to sit. Not the way you pictured it going, but the other guy (Danalf) has yet to respond, as you near the scene.
"Dana, then." He waits for her to continue.
After she tries to describe Aradia, the elf lifts his chin in assent before smiling. "The description is restrictive, but you have a concept of Aradia. Nyah sounds like a potential friend."
And once she asks about hunting: "A hunting journey? I could do that. The trick to taking a boar by yourself, of course, is not letting the boar have an opportunity. Elevated in a large tree waiting near laden berry bushes can simplify that problem." He laughs at his own comment.
"Maybe just a hunting day trip?" replies Elise. It didn't seem entirely sensible to her to spend a night with a strange elven man. Unless . . . "I mean, unless you'd be interested in joining as well, Katze. You look like you'd have no trouble facing down a boar." And no trouble making sure Adair doesn't try to lay a hand on me.
"A pleasure to meet you as well, Elise." says Katze with a nod of her head.
After Elise hesitantly shows her holy symbol then hides it, Katze says "You should consider just getting that tattooed. It will prevent you from having your symbol be lost."
"Tattooed?" says Elise with surprise. "Doesn't that seem a little . . . barbaric?" She immediately covers her mouth as she says this, realizing who she's speaking to. "I mean no offense, Katze. I just prefer jewelry to a tattoo, I think."
As the bartender slide over the stiff drink purchased by Katze, Elise raises it in thanks toward Katze, who was in such a generous mood. "Cheers to you, and your good spirits!" Chuckling at her little pun, she takes the most delicate of sips.
Elise (Adair and Katze can hear this conversation as well)
Top Cartwright slides one of the free drinks courtesy of Katze, just as you show Adair and the others your holy symbol of Nyah. His eyes raise in wonder, and when the moment is right, he interrupts your conversation.
"You're trained in the holy ways of The Eight, yar? I seen yer symbol, sorry t'intrude. If'n I might, there's someone I'd like t'introduce yeh too. He's lookin' for a priest to help with somethin' delicate like. You in?"
For whatever reason, he has not seen or noticed your mixed race yet, or if he has, it he has not commented on it.
Elise is quite hesitant as she hears the bartender's request. She responds in a low voice, but one that her neighbors can still hear. "Um . . . to help with something delicate? I don't suppose you could be more specific? I can bandage cuts and the like, but I usually can't do much for a man's . . . delicate problems." Still, there was no question Elise was curious. Perhaps the task would come with some pay, which she certainly could use right now.
As Danalf approached and accosted the hooded man, the stranger hissed in a voice that was clearly used to giving commands. "Sit down, and stop drawing attention to yourself. You have the subtlety of a bull in a china shop. Sit, now!" His jack-booted foot pushed out the opposite chair, and his mailed glove hand made a motion that indicated, if not exactly welcome, then at least tolerance.
Danalf takes the chair.
I have enough harassment from Ionian sympathizers. You're not one of them are you? You have one minute. What do you want?
The barkeep, clearly a veteran of some old campaign, is leaning on the bar, speaking to a Valerian girl who is surrounded by an elf and a tall, brawny blonde woman. He's clearly busy at the moment. You hear him say something about a fellow needing help and then he waits for the cleric's response.
Seeing the Bartender was a little occupied, Divina decided to wait until he was free.
Litsy
The barkeep is engaged in some other conversation at the far end, but one of the serving girls, a dark-haired shapely girl named Ella, pushes a free drink into your hand from a tray she is passing around. "Top's a bit busy, miss," she says. "Have a seat there," she points at an empty table which happens to be near where the man is accosting the hooded fellow, and continues " and I'll get your order in a sec, 'k?" Ella wanders on without waiting for a reply the busy room calling out for her attention.
It seems to be the only unoccupied table at present, and as you weave that way, you see the cloaked man kick the chair out for the other fellow to sit. Not the way you pictured it going, but the other guy (Danalf) has yet to respond, as you near the scene.
Spying the woman instructs the newly arrived Halfling to take a seat at a table, a thought occurs to the Bard. Maybe she knows?
Taking the opportunity, the fiery-haired woman asked the serving girl, "Excuse me, would you happen to know if there are accommodations available in town?"
Elise (and those at the bar)
"No, no Sister, I reckon you misunderstand. The man I speak of ain't got no illness or what not. More of a...well... a real estate problem. Still, I ken you might be just t'one t'help him.You'll see. Would you sit a spell while I have him fetched here? Or you could go to him, I reckon." Top looks at the busy common room as he says this last, clearly hoping that's the route you'll take.
Danalf
When you sit, the man pushes back his hood a bit, where you can at last see his features. He has flint-grey eyes and a neatly trimmed beard. A thin white scar traces around is left eye. His skin has the tanned and weathered look of a man used to the outdoors. His hair and beard a medium brown color with flecks of salt and pepper graying them here and there.
His brows furrow as you talk sternly at him. "At ease, friend. I am not one who seeks you for ill. But perhaps, if you will listen, you will find we have a mutual interest." He reaches to fish something out of pocket sewn inside his tunic, and Danalf flinches a bit expecting a dagger or some other trick, but instead, the man shows you a strange silver coin. It is eight-sided, and has the graven image of a spider in the center of a convoluted web he places facing up in his gloved hand. "Does this mean anything to you?" he asks quietly, pocketing the coin in his tunic once again.
While you don't recognize the coin or symbology, you have heard whispers and rumors of an secret organization in the Valerian hierarchy. The Order of the Spider, a network of spies and assassins aimed at undermining the religion and government of Ionia. About the organization, you know little more, and whether the rumors are true or exaggerated, you have no point of reference.
The grim-faced man blinks a few moments, waiting for your response.
Divinia
The serving girl blows a lock of raven hair out of her face and smiles at you. Not a real smile, but one that says I work off tips...She is busy slinging free drinks around the bar, and barely stops moving long enough to answer.
"Aye, miss." answers Ella, not really looking. "Top an' Maida have lodgings here, in the upstairs," she cocks her head upwards at this, passing a large earthen mug to a table of rather pungent dwarves. "An' there is Miss Selena's boardinghouse on the north end of town 'long the main road. She's a halfling, and all, but she keeps normal sized rooms, and runs a clean place. Depends how long yer plannin' on stayin'."
"Care for a bite to eat then, miss? I'd recommend the venison," she grabs several empty jars and bowls from another table of young men who greet her cheekily. "But the food here is always good." She finally stops long enough to look at you for real and smiles a real grin this time.
"I love your red hair!" she confides. "Kissed by fire, my mum would say. Rose has the red hair also, and she gets all the boys. Meanwhile I'm stuck with this plain old tangle." She runs a finger through another stray lock, and shrugs moving off towards the kitchen with her dirty dishes.
Divinia
The serving girl blows a lock of raven hair out of her face and smiles at you. Not a real smile, but one that says I work off tips...She is busy slinging free drinks around the bar and barely stops moving long enough to answer.
"Aye, miss." answers Ella, not really looking. "Top an' Maida have lodgings here, in the upstairs," she cocks her head upwards at this, passing a large earthen mug to a table of rather pungent dwarves. "An' there is Miss Selena's boardinghouse on the north end of town 'along the main road. She's a halfling and all, but she keeps normal-sized rooms and runs a clean place. Depends how long yer plannin' on stayin'."
"Care for a bite to eat then, miss? I'd recommend the venison," she grabs several empty jars and bowls from another table of young men who greet her cheekily. "But the food here is always good." She finally stops long enough to look at you for real and smiles a real grin this time.
"I love your red hair!" she confides. "Kissed by fire, my mum would say. Rose has the red hair also, and she gets all the boys. Meanwhile, I'm stuck with this plain old tangle." She runs a finger through another stray lock, and shrugs moving off towards the kitchen with her dirty dishes.
"Thank you," Pulling out a couple of silvers, Divina hands them over to the young woman, "For your trouble."
Turning back to the bar, she waited for the Top to become available to ask about the lodging situation.
His brows furrow as you talk sternly at him. "At ease, friend. I am not one who seeks you for ill. But perhaps, if you will listen, you will find we have a mutual interest." He reaches to fish something out of pocket sewn inside his tunic, and Danalf flinches a bit expecting a dagger or some other trick, but instead, the man shows you a strange silver coin. It is eight-sided, and has the graven image of a spider in the center of a convoluted web he places facing up in his gloved hand. "Does this mean anything to you?" he asks quietly, pocketing the coin in his tunic once again.
While you don't recognize the coin or symbology, you have heard whispers and rumors of an secret organization in the Valerian hierarchy. The Order of the Spider, a network of spies and assassins aimed at undermining the religion and government of Ionia. About the organization, you know little more, and whether the rumors are true or exaggerated, you have no point of reference.
Once placed on the table, Danalf focuses on the coin. It takes a moment but then he realizes what it might be related to. He deliberately lowers his voice so that it only registers at the table, and continues to watch the coin intently until the man puts it away.
I've heard of an Order of the Spider, they who would undermine the oppressive expansion of Iona. Very well. What is this mutual interest that caused you to stare me down so intently? Why specifically me?
GM
As soon as the barmaid serves her food, Litsy starts eating voraciously. It seems like all her attention is drawn to her meal, but her head is ever so slightly cocked to the side, listening to the conversations happening around her distractedly.
Divina
Ella slips the coins into her bodice and nods a thanks. She saunters back into the kitchen to continue her chores.
The White Wolf has a small stage in one corner, really only big enough for one player, and it is currently unoccupied. The buzz and rumble of many voices fills the air of the common room, sounding for all the world like a hive full of angry hornets.
After he speaks with a Valerian woman and her companions at the bar, Top Cartwright leans over and listens to what you might allow.
"Oh, a'course we got lodgin' if you want, lass. Private rooms'll run yeh a gold crown per night, but that includes yer meals. Drinks is extra, a'course. Can get yeh a fine room, t'hold more folks, if you have a taste fer it, but the cost is more, a 10 gold crowns per night. Believe there is space in the dormitory as well, that's bunking with a few others, mostly dwarven workmen," he points out a handful of the dwarves at a nearby table who are clearly relishing the free libations provided earlier. "I don't recommend it fer a lady, but t'each their own. Dorm bed is 5 pinch, meals extra."
He moves off to refill another mug while you consider his prices, which are reasonable and comparable to other inns in Terra Nova.
Elise (and those at the bar)
"No, no Sister, I reckon you misunderstand. The man I speak of ain't got no illness or what not. More of a...well... a real estate problem. Still, I ken you might be just t'one t'help him.You'll see. Would you sit a spell while I have him fetched here? Or you could go to him, I reckon." Top looks at the busy common room as he says this last, clearly hoping that's the route you'll take.
"A real estate problem? I know my letters, but I'm hardly a barrister. Are you sure I'm the right person?" Elise considers carefully whether the bartender is speaking truthfully. (Perception check.)
If the bartender's motives seem genuine, Elise shrugs. "If he's boarding upstairs, I suppose I could speak with him." As she prepares to follow the bartender's directions, she looks to the strong northern woman beside her, and finds her more trustworthy than any male stranger. "Katze, would you have a few minutes to spare to come with me? I think it's helpful for us traveling ladies to stick together."
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Divina
Ella slips the coins into her bodice and nods thanks. She saunters back into the kitchen to continue her chores.
The White Wolf has a small stage in one corner, really only big enough for one player, and it is currently unoccupied. The buzz and rumble of many voices fill the air of the common room, sounding for all the world like a hive full of angry hornets.
After he speaks with a Valerian woman and her companions at the bar, Top Cartwright leans over and listens to what you might allow.
"Oh, a'course we got lodgin' if you want, lass. Private rooms'll run yeh a gold crown per night, but that includes yer meals. Drinks is extra, a'course. Can get yeh a fine room, t'hold more folks, if you have a taste fer it, but the cost is more, a 10 gold crowns per night. Believe there is space in the dormitory as well, that's bunking with a few others, mostly dwarven workmen," he points out a handful of the dwarves at a nearby table who are clearly relishing the free libations provided earlier. "I don't recommend it fer a lady, but t'each their own. Dorm bed is 5 pinch, meals extra."
He moves off to refill another mug while you consider his prices, which are reasonable and comparable to other inns in Terra Nova.
Divina smiled, I am most certainly not a lady. Well, of the noble nature anyway.
Pulling out a Stag from her purse, the woman placed it on the bar, "I'll take a Dorm bed for a couple of nights if you please."
Looking at the stage, she asked, "Would it be alright if I played a little something on the stage? I feel it calling me." Pulling her cloak back, she revealed a beautifully made violin. It was completely going against maintaining a low-profile, but she could not help herself.
GM
"Tattooed?" says Elise with surprise. "Doesn't that seem a little . . . barbaric?"
She immediately covers her mouth as she says this, realizing who she's speaking to. "I mean no offense, Katze. I just prefer jewelry to a tattoo, I think."
"Tattoos may not be taken from you, unlike small pieces of metal." offered Katze.
"Cheers to you, and your good spirits!" Chuckling at her little pun, she takes the most delicate of sips.
"And to you."
As the man behind the bar began speaking to the Elise, Katze said "I can help, if the pay is right."
At Elise's request, Katze said "Yes, let's go see what this...man has to say."
The front door opens, and in strides a man of average height and a blazing grin. He could be moving faster, the pack on his pack and his fine rapier combine to weigh him down. But this does not impact his good cheer.
Anyone looking might notice that his skin is pale even for a Valerian's, his dirty blonde hair is finely combed, and that his equipment all seems very new.
He keeps grinning and looks about him for just a moment, seeing what he can see, before approaching the bar.
Does Blake pick up anything from reading the room? With say the Streetwise feat and A Society roll?
Adair sees the women picking a direction they don't seem to want his help following, and one he isn't real interested in taking anyway, so he excuses himself. "You seem to have found something to do for now. I'll let you handle that. If you are still interested in a hunt later, Dana, I can be found here now and again."
GM
** spoiler omitted **
"A real estate problem? I know my letters, but I'm hardly a barrister. Are you sure I'm the right person?" Elise considers carefully whether the bartender is speaking truthfully. (Perception check.)If the bartender's motives seem genuine, Elise shrugs. "If he's boarding upstairs, I suppose I could speak with him." As she prepares to follow the bartender's directions, she looks to the strong northern woman beside her, and finds her more trustworthy than any male stranger. "Katze, would you have a few minutes to spare to come with me? I think it's helpful for us traveling ladies to stick together."
Elise and Katze
As strange as the request is, nothing in the demeanor of Top, the barman, leads Emelia to believe he is being dishonest or making fun. "Aye," says Top. "He's in the first room at t'top of t'stairs. Master Longwood's his name. Dirk Longwood. Tell him I sent yeh."
As Katze says something about the money being right, Top adds, before turning to the woman with bright red hair. "Looks like t'kinda bloke who could pay, if yeh ken."
Provided you leave the common room and head upstairs, you find the first door easily enough. After a rap upon it, a man's voice calls for you to enter. Opening the door, you see a finely appointed guest room, one of the fine rooms it appears. There is a drawing room and separate bedroom. A tall, thin man with curly brown hair and pince-nez spectacles balanced on the end of a long nose, sits at a table covered with all forms of papers and vellum parchment. He has ink-smudges on his face and fingers, including a rather messy blot on his well-appointed tunic.
"Yes?" he says, with an air of impatience. "What can I do for you?"
Once placed on the table, Danalf focuses on the coin. It takes a moment but then he realizes what it might be related to. He deliberately lowers his voice so that it only registers at the table, and continues to watch the coin intently until the man puts it away.I've heard of an Order of the Spider, they who would undermine the oppressive expansion of Iona. Very well. What is this mutual interest that caused you to stare me down so intently? Why specifically me?
Danalf (and Litsy)
The man sighs. "Yes, well the rumors of my organization are perhaps greater than its actual deeds, but yes, I am engaged in furthering the ends of the Crown. In this case, it may or may not be at the expense of our neighbors across the river. My interest in you is simple. You have some talent in the workings of wild magic, and you have reason to hate the church of Morgath, and perhaps wish for the restoration of the Faith. If so, I have some work you might be interested in. Does this pique your curiosity? The work might be dangerous, but would certainly be lucrative and the Crown doesn't forget who its friends are..." He trails off, watching your carefully, trying to gauge your interest in his not-so-subtle proposal.
Divina smiled, I am most certainly not a lady. Well, of the noble nature anyway.
Pulling out a Stag from her purse, the woman placed it on the bar, "I'll take a Dorm bed for a couple of nights if you please."
Looking at the stage, she asked, "Would it be alright if I played a little something on the stage? I feel it calling me." Pulling her cloak back, she revealed a beautifully made violin. It was completely going against maintaining a low-profile, but she could not help herself.
Top twists his lip in what might be a smile. "Might wanna claim a bed early in the dorm, lass. Unless you like bunkin' with a sweaty dwarf, that is." He laughs mirthlessly, and sweeps the coin into the till.
When Divina shows the violin, Top lets out a low whistle of admiration. "Ain't she a beaut! Aye, if you've a mind, give us a song or two. If you keep the crowd drinkin' your dinner'll be on t'house." He makes a dramatic gesture toward the stage and turns back to the elven man who now stands alone along the brass rail.