.*dot*
Oathday, Arodus 1, 4719 AR
In a troubled land that has spent the better half of a millennia bending its knee to Cheliax, one that still bears the scars from the Goblinblood Wars two decades past, there rests an idyllic town known as Breachill.
Breachtons, as the folk there call themselves, are the type to help one another when down on their luck and to welcome strangers in for a spot of tea. The town guard carry saps as their only weapons and usually go about unarmored, rarely needed for much beyond breaking up the occasional bar fight. The worship of Asmodeus, which Cheliax is eager to spread, is all but unthinkable here. Remote as the town is, the problems facing the rest of Isgar just don’t tend to trickle this far east.
Breachill loves adventurers. Their town was founded – indeed, saved by one, as they are quite happy to tell newcomers, repeatedly. And so, each month, they hold the Call For Heroes. Word’s gotten out about the Call to the entire surrounding region. Simply trek out to Breachill, attend the meeting at their town hall, and the council will pay adventurers good, honest money to help the folks solve their odd problems, be it a strange beast in the woods, a haunted family heirloom, or a basement full of giant rats. And so, here you are, for one reason or another, on the morning of the Call.
Folks in town were quick to point out that the place to be before the Call is the Wizard’s Grace tavern. Prospective Heroes are always directed to this establishment to have a bowl of spicy boar stew with lentils before undertaking a quest – a tradition started by the current proprietor’s grandfather. Polite refusal to attend elicits lots of ‘tsk’ing and warnings that it’s bad luck to break from such traditions, so here you are, in the crowded common room of the tavern at about ten in the morning.
The Wizard’s Grace is clean, and it’s clear the proprietor prides herself in its upkeep. Tables are polished to a shine and don’t wobble, there’s a sign by the door politely reminding patrons not to spit on the floor, and the food is made from fresh ingredients in a kitchen free from vermin. The walls of the place are decorated with various trophies from past adventurers, each with a small plaque underneath denoting who retrieved it and what trial they had to undergo to achieve such a feat. A pleasant autumn breeze wafts in through the open windows. It’s early, yet the place is packed with customers already.
Customers who all want to hear from YOU. Because this month, you are answering the Call. And that makes you very popular.
Hexes
Stoke the Heart
Phase Familiar
Cantrips
Detect Magic
Guidance
Shield
Stabilize
Forbidding Ward
1st
Heal
Bless
Caiten walks through the doors of the Wizard's Grace. He appears at first glance to be an average looking Human male wearing plain clothing and trying his best to be completely unnoticable. The tattoo looking circuitry on the backs of his hands and the sides of his neck clearly show that he is actually an Android, and the masterfully carved wooden Poppet sitting of its own accord on a satchel at Caiten's hip and looking intelligently around the room dispels any illusion of normalcy that the drab clothing may have created.
"Very well. If you insist, we will stop by the tavern first. Though I am not sure why you insisted on coming to this Call for Heroes meeting. We haven't attended either of the previous two that have been held since we arrived in town."
"I don't really know either. It might have been a premonition from our Patron - but it also might just be my imagination. And that not knowing is setting my joints on edge."
Concerned, Caiten stops in the middle of the tavern floor and begins manipulating Sulee's joints.
"Stop that! It is a figure of speech. My joints are fine."
"Just go up to the bar and order the boar stew please."
"Ah, my apologies."
Caiten makes his way to the bar.
"Greetings and salutations. I would order the boar stew please."
"Is that acceptable, Sulee?"
Sulee sighs under her breath. "It is, as you would say, 'minimally sufficient'."
Never one to risk bad luck, Hornet has ordered herself a bowl of the boar stew with lentils. She begins to wolf it down, but winces suddenly at a burned tongue.
[Gnoll] "Gah! Bastard..."
Ears pulling back slightly, she resolves to finish it at a more careful pace.
The half-elf next to Hornet smiles, and blows on his spoon of stew carefully to demonstrate, then slups up the lentils with a wink. "Even better, sop it with a little bread--but save some bread for when you need to clean the bowl. Er, if one is not possessed of a gnoll's tongue, that is," he finishes with a laugh.
Lisitsei Nagorát, known to most everyone as "Lisi" or "that damned druid lawyer," and a host of other names, looks pale under his tanned countenance, and a little tired and drawn. You may have seen him harassed by Chelaxian soldiers, or perhaps its the fact that all of his legal cases to protect local wild tracts of land have evaporated of late. Nevertheless, he seems cheerful enough this morning.
His leshy, Guba, sits on the table, dandling its legs and peering at the soup.
Sulee smiles and waves. "Oh, Hi Guba. Good to see you. You too Lisi. And Hornet*, how is business going?"
The front doors are pushed open and in struts the form of the newcomer to the small, if friendly, town of Breachill. Dressed in browns, tans, and off-whites more common to drier and hotter locales than this, Dario shakes off the slight chill that rode along the shoulders of that autumn wind. Surveying the crowded room, a wide grin spreads across the stranger's face as he makes his way toward the tavern's bar.
Dario had arrived a few days ago, a new arrival just in time for the Call of Heroes. The lithe human with the wide-brimmed hat and burn scars along his cheek had a friendly demeanor, more than willing to talk with those that wanted news of the world outside. What was of note was the strange device that sat in a leather holster on his side beside a pouch of similar material. The hilt of it was made of a beautiful dark wood known to grow in the Mwangi Expanse far to the south. Emblazoned on the wood in a beautiful copper and steel design was the clan emblem of Gongun Hold, a dwarven hold located deep in the Mana Wastes to the southeast of Isger.
"Mornin', mornin', mornin'." Dario's drawl was slow and warm as he greeted friendly faces, saddling up onto a stool after sweeping his long coat out from under him. "Well I'll be Trinil, you're looking more glorious than any morning sunrise." A smirk spread across the gunslinger's face as he gave her a solid wink before carrying on. "That stew up and going? I'd hate to break tradition here." Dario had made it clear when he first arrived his interest in Call of Heroes, followed by anyone pretty walking on two feet.
Looking to his right, he caught sight of the gnoll that was chowing down the bowl of delicious stew goodness. Well, maybe he didn't flirt with anyone on two legs. Giving a nod of his head, he had heard of the strange junk collector via some of the townspeople. "Mornin'." He says, changing his look and letting the woman eat in peace.
Looking to his left, he saw the town's toymaker and the animated doll that he traveled alongside with. The gunslinger's eyes focus on the circuitry on the man's neck for a moment before meeting eyes with the doll. He stares for a solid ten seconds before coming to a solid decision; there were definitely some that he just didn't think it'd be right to flirt with at all. "Mornin'." The druid-looking half-elf joined them a moment later, mentoring the gnoll on the best way to eat a bowl. Dario had hoped that the two of them were familiar or he was asking to have a bit of his nose nipped right off.
"I know most of you are locals..." Dario started, looking between the strange group at the bar. "...but do you know who else is answering the call? Need to know if there is going to be any competition for the best jobs or anything."
Not too far behind the gunslinger, in bursts a giant of a man who apparently was moving at quick pace, although, he doesn't appear to be too winded. "Whew! Made it. And with time to spare too. No way I was missing another one," he says to himself, smiling magnificently. Anybody who noticed him might very well swear they say a spark of light emanate from his perfect teeth.
Built solidly with long dark hair, he finds himself an empty table and sits(or if there's not an empty table, he simply joins some random person at a table with a spare chair). He then takes a moment to locate the innkeeper. When he finally manages it, "Trinil! You gorgeous gal you! I'd LOVE some of that fantastic stew of yours! And don't hold back on me either! I'd get jealous!" he hollers over the loud crowd, pointing and giving her a wink.
Lisi shrugs. "Ah, hello. The last lot of adventurers 'graduated', either to other towns or to re-join the earth bodily. I have been out in the wilds for a bit, so I'm afraid I don't know who else is coming."
"Hello Sulee. Staying out of trouble? Guba, you can play." He lets the leshy drop down to greet the poppet.
Entering the room next is a tall man with a maul on his back. He looks almost...relieved upon entering the room and seeing everyone eating and conversing and going about their business as normal. He's got dark hair that's neatly tied back in a bun, light tanned skin, and is over six foot tall.
He walks over to the table where the strange group is sitting and pulls up a chair if one is available. He stands if one is not. "I take it that you're all here for the Call to Heroes?"
Trinil Uskwold smiled and nodded to Caiten, and winked at Sulee. The pair had been in a number of times, and she was fond of the small poppet. She got to filling a bowl for Caiten, and a smaller cup with a little spoon for Sulee, avoiding the larger chunks of meat for her. "I must say I'm a bit surprised to see the two of you," she said. "Didn't think you were interested in answering the Call...not that the past couple offered much in the way of excitment."
She made sure to scoot some extra bread in the direction of Hornet and Lisi, as well as a bowl of water for Guba.
As Dario complimented her she smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Wish I could say the same for you," she quipped to the town's scarred newcomer. She winked and slid a bowl of stew in his direction.
She had just turned her back to clean up a spill when Joran burst in with his usual gusto, shouting so loudly she jumped in surprise. She turned to him, hands on her hips, rag still hanging from one of them. "Joran, if you dented my wall with the door again, so help me..." She filled a large bowl and made her way around the bar, weaving between patrons to where he sat and setting the soup before him at his table. "And you're one to talk of jealousy." She'd fancied him, once upon a time, before realizing his affections were spread to about a dozen other women at the same time. She still found his boorishness amusing, though she wouldn't tell him that.
As Oren arrived, she sized him up, this being his first visit to her establishment. "You're just in time, friend. Welcome to the Wizard's Grace." She smiled and slid a bowl his way.
The other patrons were all watching the gathering with interest. There were quiet conversations surmising what jobs the Council might have to offer, musings over Dario's strange contraption, and even a few jokes about whether the latest arrival could take Joran in a fight, since "they're both so damn huge!"
"Yeah, yeah." Hornet grumbles, mildly embarassed by her mistake but bearing Lisi no actual ill will. As more people file in - some the gnoll recognizes from around town, some she doesn't - she watches them curiously. She gives a fanged grin to Sulee, she had always liked the little construct. "Hey, hlaoru. Can't complain."
Her ears prick back up as Hornet notices the device at Dario's hip. Her nose twitches - smelled a bit like smoke, interesting. "You mind my asking what that thing is?" She asks curiously.
"Easy now, Hornet. The soup won't run away.", Yasami appears behind the gnoll and pats her on the shoulder. She walks around the table to find a place to sit. She greets everyone with a polite nod as she looks, and ultimately decides she will stand. For now.
"It will not be a competition, Mister Zuz.", Yasami quickly pulls out her fan and covers the bottom of her face with it. Only a playful pair of eyes peers from above the fan edges, but suddenly turn serious. "Whichever team I am in will get the best assignment. Assuming I join one, that is."
Yasami winks, and her eyes start laughing again. She puts her fan away and quickly stores it in her robes. She sits down.
She picks up a slice of bread, and starts tearing pieces from it, and eating it bit by bit as she scouts the talent at the table.
"Ah, new faces! Seen anything interesting on the way here?", she leans over the table. "I've heard there's a bunch of -IMPS- hanging out a few days east. Attacking cows for blood overnight. Could you believe that?"
Accepting the soup with absolute gratitude, "Thank you, my dear Trinil. And the wall's fine!" he assures her, smiling. "I've learned to be a bit less destructive. You know, you should be thankful. As a matter of fact, in return for being so respectful of your door, I'm thinking we should go on that date you promised me," he tells her, grinning wryly, knowing full well she promised no such thing but the barbarian is no way averse to trying. "C'mon, gorgeous, you know I'm good for it. Heck, we can dine here! Not only would I be the luckiest guy in town with the prettiest gal, you'd double up on the business side of it too. It's a win-win!" he declares, giving her a wink while smiling that playful, and somewhat flirty, smile.
What does a guy have to do to get a cup of coffee in Breachill?
Cevendyl smiled as he enterd the Wizard's Grace; maybe not a place that would have Lashuntan Spiced Coffee, or put Cheya Dumplings in their Spicy Boar Stew ... but his mother's cooking was many many miles away, and human coffee did the trick just fine.
It's 10am, there must still be coffee
Never one to risk bad luck, Hornet has ordered herself a bowl of the boar stew with lentils. She begins to wolf it down, but winces suddenly at a burned tongue.
[Gnoll] "Gah! Bastard..."
Ears pulling back slightly, she resolves to finish it at a more careful pace.
Overhearing Hornet cursing at their stew, Cevendyl smiles again and walks over ...
"Yay, someone else who curses! It's funny that humans say that word all the time, and they mean "jerk" or "son of a b*tch" ... accidently said it to another Half-Elf when I was vacationing in Greengold a year ago: she got all up in my face asking why I thought she didn't know her parents!"
"I went with the 'Man of Faith' response and she seemed to simmer down ..."
"Hi, I'm Cevendyl. Other than hot, how is the stew?"
”Yasami, isn’t it? The only imps I’ve seen are from Imp-erial Cheliax,” says the druid, wiping his hands on a handkerchief. ”I’ve been stuck inside a tome or wandering in the Crimson Tide. Saw more megafauna recently, though I don’t know if it’s a sign of forest recovery. I suspect it has to do with beasts moving out of Lastwall and into Sarkoris.”
He raises a glass to the cleric. ”Bastard! A fellow bastard salutes you.”
”Yasami, isn’t it? The only imps I’ve seen are from Imp-erial Cheliax,” says the druid, wiping his hands on a handkerchief. ”I’ve been stuck inside a tome or wandering in the Crimson Tide. Saw more megafauna recently, though I don’t know if it’s a sign of forest recovery. I suspect it has to do with beasts moving out of Lastwall and into Sarkoris.”
He raises a glass to the cleric. ”Bastard! A fellow bastard salutes you.”
"The pleasure, you bastard, is resoundingly mine! Now, where is that coffee I need ... and the shot I need with it?"
The half-elf looked VERY elfy, more so maybe for being a touch over dressed. Sunday best here in the boondocks, afternoon tea in Iadara, the young man looked SHARP; but it was also 10am so maybe it was more like he hadn't wanted to pack his nice clothes versus wearing them.
Or was he showing off? While his face was nice enough to look at, he also wasn't hiding anything else. His tattoos had a shimmer which sometimes seemed to be a glow, similar to the smoldering bright amber of his eyes. If he wasn't clearly a cleric of Yuelral, anyone else might put their money on Arshea, especially given the outfit.
and yet he seemed more chatty than slutty, clearly liked coffee, and was willing to say 'bastard' (in Common anyway)
Looking to his left, he saw the town's toymaker and the animated doll that he traveled alongside with. The gunslinger's eyes focus on the circuitry on the man's neck for a moment before meeting eyes with the doll. He stares for a solid ten seconds before coming to a solid decision; there were definitely some that he just didn't think it'd be right to flirt with at all. "Mornin'."
Caiten notices the extended attention that this unfamiliar person is giving to Sulee. His circuitry turns from the normal black to a dark blue briefly as he does a quick assessment.
His general demeanor appears nonthreatening. Conversation with the proprietor and the other patrons seems normal. He also looks to be unarmed - though that is often a poor indicator of risk potential. Conclusions: Threat level undetermined; Aggression level low. Most likely the extended attention is due to curiosity - which is a common response to first meeting Sulee.
"Greetings. Unfortunately, I am quite inexperienced in these Call for Heroes meetings myself."
Caiten hears Hornet* ask about the device Dairo is wearing. It is not often that Hornet* is unfamiliar with a mechanical device of any type. I do not recognize the device either.
"Sulee, if you wish, you may also go and greet your friends. Just stay within sight."
"By the by, bastard, and less frequently cursing stew-eating gnoll friend, my name is Cenvendyl. Glad to be here, and also glad to answer the Call of Heroes with you."
Cevendyl smiles, and goes to see if he can find the attractive proprietress of the Tavern ... maybe just the shot and some mead would do
Never one to risk bad luck, Hornet has ordered herself a bowl of the boar stew with lentils. She begins to wolf it down, but winces suddenly at a burned tongue.
[Gnoll] "Gah! Bastard..."
Ears pulling back slightly, she resolves to finish it at a more careful pace.Overhearing Hornet cursing at their stew, Cevendyl smiles again and walks over ...
"Yay, someone else who curses! It's funny that humans say that word all the time, and they mean "jerk" or "son of a b*tch" ... accidently said it to another Half-Elf when I was vacationing in Greengold a year ago: she got all up in my face asking why I thought she didn't know her parents!"
"I went with the 'Man of Faith' response and she seemed to simmer down ..."
"Hi, I'm Cevendyl. Other than hot, how is the stew?"
"The stew is pretty good. And my name is Oren Strelov. It's nice to meet you."
"The stew is pretty good. And my name is Oren Strelov. It's nice to meet you."Never one to risk bad luck, Hornet has ordered herself a bowl of the boar stew with lentils. She begins to wolf it down, but winces suddenly at a burned tongue.
[Gnoll] "Gah! Bastard..."
Ears pulling back slightly, she resolves to finish it at a more careful pace.Overhearing Hornet cursing at their stew, Cevendyl smiles again and walks over ...
"Yay, someone else who curses! It's funny that humans say that word all the time, and they mean "jerk" or "son of a b*tch" ... accidently said it to another Half-Elf when I was vacationing in Greengold a year ago: she got all up in my face asking why I thought she didn't know her parents!"
"I went with the 'Man of Faith' response and she seemed to simmer down ..."
"Hi, I'm Cevendyl. Other than hot, how is the stew?"
"Hey Oren, I am Cevendyl, originally from Kyonin but that feels like a very long time ago. Thanks for the advice, I will try the stew in that case."
Lisi shrugs. "Ah, hello. The last lot of adventurers 'graduated', either to other towns or to re-join the earth bodily. I have been out in the wilds for a bit, so I'm afraid I don't know who else is coming."
"Ah, I see. A fresh market then for sure. Prime opportunity." The eagerness in Dario's voice could not be denied. He mentioned being out in the wilds and Dario would give a nod, adjusting the strapped glasses upon his face. "Risky actions with what I hear about Isger. Banditry, monsters, all kinds of danger out on the main routes. Cheliax ain't much help, I hear." His eyes followed the little plant-like creature as it moseyed around the bartop before getting settled. Magic was still a strange sight for him to see in action. "You have any news of the wild out there? Anything that might be related to this recent call?" Hearing Trinil's playful words, the young man's grin grew just a bit wider.
"Don't let the scars deceive you. A rock with polish could be a worthy gem." Taking the bowl of spicy stew, he digs in with joy. The meat is flavorful and the spices burn delightfully upon his tongue. Mama Ezra's cooking comes quickly to mind as he lets the bread soak up the delicious broth. Walking in next come two well-built men, made of strong muscles, broad shoulders, and formidable presence. Dario lacked that kind of height, relatively short for a human at five feet and four inches tall. He never knew the difference, always being a head and shoulders taller than most of his clanmates back in the hold. Despite the wiry physique, he appears absolutely at east in their company. His eyes quickly pick out the inquisitive look of the gnoll upon her side as she sniffs the air and catches scent of something strange. Like an old burn yet somehow metallic, it lingers on him like a cloak along with the faint smell of oil.
"You have a good eye...Hornet, is it? Dario of Clan Zuz." Pulling out the strange contraption, he twirls it between his fingers with expert skill. Only the grip is made of wood, the rest is of a dull steel with a hatch load upon it. With one last twirl, he quickly pops it open and unloads the packet of gunpowder and the single bullet that was kept inside. "Gaze upon the beautiful craftmanship one can only find at Gongun Hold deep in the Mana Wastes. This is my firearms, my clan pistol." Like a shadow, Yasumi appears from behind the gnoll and comments on his question about it competition. There was almost a momentary look of disappointment on his face; nothing was better than seeing the look on someone's face the first time a pistol roared. "Do be careful with it, friend, it is more than a tool. It...is home." Dario says to Hornet and, being a maker of things herself, can practically feel the attachment the young human had to the supposed weapon.
"Well, emerald-eyes, I do hope I get to partner with you. I would hate to have tired my legs all the way out here and not have a bit of excitement..." Dario offers, tipping his hat slightly as the woman seated herself down at the table. "Just a few bandits a ways back. Helped pay my costs so I could arrive in this lovely locale." At that moment, the pretty elven man stepped in and called out to the others. The familiarity, or at least friendliness, reminded him greatly of home and for a bit he would find his homesickness abated in the almost claustrophobic tavern packed with traveller and local alike. A toast is given and he raises his own as well in his left hand. For those close enough, they would see a myriad of wooden bracelets decorating his hand with a variety of religious iconography upon it. Torag, Cayden Cailen, Desna, Irori, and Erastil. "Hail friend! Come and have a drink! The sun is already fully risen somewhere and tonight, we make ourselves known!"
"Ah, no worries friend. You and your...companion...stay behind me, the blade, and the bullet, and we'll keep you safe." As much as he tried to enjoy the conversations around him, his focus was almost entirely on Hornet and the unloaded weapon he had given her. He tried to remain cool and calm, even as he felt his nerves getting to him.
Hornet takes the pistol, turning it this way and that, occasionally tracing some part of it with one light claw. As much as she'd like the opportunity to take it apart and get a real sense for how it works, she can feel the gunslinger's eyes on her - and of course, a busy tavern was hardly an ideal workshop. Committing as much of its form as she can to her memory, she holds it back out, the grip towards Dario. "The Young Sister must like you, this is a work of art. Thanks."
A little tension escapes from Dario's shoulders as he takes the pistol in hand, giving it one last twirl before slipping it back into its holster once more.
"My clan made it for me, a parting gift as I left the hold." Dario murmurs with a smile on his face, one far softer than he had been showing the eligible bachelors and bachelorettes in the tavern. "A product of necessity; no god or wizard will help you when magic don't work." Something she says does catch his attention though, his eyebrow lifting curiously. "Little Sister? I don't reckon I've heard that moniker before for any deity."
A little tension escapes from Dario's shoulders as he takes the pistol in hand, giving it one last twirl before slipping it back into its holster once more.
"My clan made it for me, a parting gift as I left the hold." Dario murmurs with a smile on his face, one far softer than he had been showing the eligible bachelors and bachelorettes in the tavern. "A product of necessity; no god or wizard will help you when magic don't work." Something she says does catch his attention though, his eyebrow lifting curiously. "Little Sister? I don't reckon I've heard that moniker before for any deity."
Cevendyl smiles broadly, and turns to Dario
"our friend afforded your weapon a great compliment; she said that it must have been touched by the hand of Shelyn, to be so beautiful"
"Lisitsei, and well met, Cevendyl." Lisi says the word well enough, but it's clear to anyone who speaks Elven that Lisitsei isn't fluent in the language. "Coffee and stronger libations are available, I am sure," he says, hoisting his own cup, "Although, blueberry kvass is effervescent and refreshing to me. Some folks claim it tastes like dirty socks and gives them the shakes, I must warn you."
"The wilds...they are damaged, not in the way that the Mana Wastes are, but in a much more mundane way. Poisoned, burnt, cut. That being said, nothing I have seen or heard appears to be related to the Call. The Call, er, is a tradition around here. Banditry, as you mentioned, is evergreen. There's always a den of thieves to root out."
He eyes the interaction between Hornet and Zuz coolly. Time spent in Elidir has trained him to not overreact when odd bits of metal are brandished, and besides, his equanimity to all things extends to Caiten.
"Welcome to Breachill, Oren. And Oren--that's Joran. We'll have to enunciate your names clearly during battle." He sips his kvass.
The windows were filling up with the faces of children, noses pressed to the glass and hands blocking the sun, as they peered inside to see the adventurers. The Call was always the most exciting day of the month, bringing a parade of new faces with exciting stories. A few waved to Caiten and Sulee, beaming.
A hulking bear of a man with cheeks rosy from drink already rises from his seat. “A motley crew a‘ heroes this month, ‘at’s fer sure! Stew ain’t the only tradition round here, though. Name’s Vusker. Fadelby Vusker. An’ afore you go taking jobs from the council, why not show us ya got what it takes, and beat me at a little arm wrasslin’, eh? Which one a’ yas is the strongest, ya think?” He grinned and propped his elbow on the table, ready to rumble.
"Guba and I together would still lose," says the slender half-elf with a chuckle, then pats around in his ledger case, suddenly thinking about a notary he was supposed to have signed...missing whatever he would have noticed entirely.
Caiten's circuitry flashes blue for a moment again while he decides if this assertion of a tradition of arm wrasslin' is actually a necessary tradition or not - finally deciding that he will only participate if more than 82% of the other people in the tavern do so.
Sulee runs up to the window and smiles, twirls, and curtsys for the children there.
Trinil smiled at the handsome new elven arrival. "We do indeed have coffee, friend. Are you a cream and sugar sort of fellow, or do you enjoy your bean water dark and bitter? Perhaps with a dash of something stronger to fortify you?" She ladled out a bowl of stew for him as well, handing it over.
"We could split the difference maybe? Dark & Sassy? I like my coffee like I like my ... yes, I bet we could arrive at the coffee being Dark & Sassy with just a touch of sugar and 2 or 3 dashes of 'something stronger' - deal?"
Cev takes the bowl gratefully and smiles at the woman
"and the stew seems to be dark & sassy already."
BAR ROOM Stuff
Hornet grins, seeing nothing wrong with a little friendly competition. She puts her arm up, ready to challenge Vusker.
Joran is suddenly distracted and stops eating as he lifts his head to listen to someone calling all challengers. Grinning from ear to ear, "A challenge. I do love a challenge." The big fella rises and turns to find his opponent. He moves over to him and notices a gnoll is already there challenging him.
After that challenge was decided, "Well done," he says to the gnoll, nodding in a congratulatory way, clearly impressed by the showing. Joran then steps in and takes a seat, placing his elbow on the table. "Vusker, huh? Welcome to Breachill, friend," he says with a friendly smile before giving a nod of welcome.
Yasamina continues to eat bit by bit, when Vusker comes in with his challenge. The Brevan woman smiles and stands up, ready to watch Hornet crush this man. She saw the gnoll raise up a cart stuck in the mud all by herself. "Watch... This will be good.", she nudges Dario and whoever else is standing next to her, and points at the gnoll.
She jumps on the table where Vusker and Hornet are challenging each other, and looks around the room with her index finger up to her lips. The room silences down a bit, and she looks at the two contestants. "Lady and gentleman, allow me to count down."
Squats down, and puts her scarf on the interlocked hands of the arm wrestlers.
"Ready ...", she looks at both as they focus ont he opponent. "Steadyyyy...", then lifts up her left arm into the air, and prepares to jump away when they start.
"GO!", she slams the table with her left hand, and lifts the scarf from the contestants' hands. She immediately jumps away, and observes the match with a smile.
Fadelby grins widely as Hornet steps up and sits across the table from him. "Ah, I knew ya weren't all tame, ya big fleabag," he laughed, the comment a good-natured bit of teasing. Vusker was the town wainwright, and he'd had dealings with Hornet in the past, trading scraps and the like.
Hornet's grip was stronger than he be expected, and though his smile remained, his expression flashed with uncertainty. When Yasami leapt onto the table -- an act that elicited a low sigh from Trinil-- Vusker chuckled nervously. "Weren't expecting every damn person to stop and watch. That fleabag thing, that was just a joke, aye?"
Yasami finished her countdown...
... And Hornet effortlessly won their contest. Vusker's hand was slammed down on the table instantly, to the cheers of the onlookers, who were now throwing jeers at the big man. He rubbed his hand and looked a bit embarrassed. "Look, ya all can't expect a man to take on a monster like her in a test of brute strength, a'right?". Several people gave Hornet congratulatory parts on the back.
He was still trying to soothe his own pride when Joran sat across from him. "Joran, lad, come to let me save face have ya?" He smiled hopefully. The young man had certainly grown up big, but Vusker could still recall the gangly youth he once was. Surely he could take him...
The veins in Vusker's neck stuck out as he stained against Joran's grip. Their hands began tipping in one direction, then the other. The crowd hushed as it went on, both men gritting their teeth and trying to prove victorious. Finally, after what felt like forever, Vusker summoned the last drop of strength he could muster, and slowly... slowly... he pressed Joran's hand down into the table.
"Gods, son! Ya've grown into a right monster yourself! I'll buy ya a drink." He clapped Joran on the back.
Several of you notice a grown halfling disguised as one of the children at the window, watching the gathering. You might have overlooked him, except he stayed behind watching when the real children began to scamper off.
"Ah, I see!" Dario exclaims after the quick education by the elven man. "Thank you, Hornet. Mama Ezra would love to hear such a compliment on the family's work." The door opened and another man of brawn and fortitude made their way inside, a local strongman looking for a challenge. Whatever they were feeding people here in Breachill, it was working quite well. He gives a nod as the gnoll makes her way to the table first to challenge the man that had just came in.
The following displays of strength earn a series of claps and cheers from the gunslinger before he saddles up to the table and pulls his jacket back. The man's frame was smaller than most and the muscles were not quite as large but there was a leanness to them.
"Thorin wouldn't let me go if I didn't try. Alright Vesker, be easy on me. Pretty folk are watching, eh?" He said, putting his elbow on the table and waiting for the scarf to once more dictate the start of the round.
Oblivious to the situation at the window, Yasamina does her little spiel again. "Another challenger, everyone. Mister Vesker, are you sure you can take a third match in a row?", she smiles at the man. "I'll buy you an ale if you do. After all - third time's the charm?"
Several of you notice a grown halfling disguised as one of the children at the window, watching the gathering. You might have overlooked him, except he stayed behind watching when the real children began to scamper off.
Caiten, counting the number of people in the room as well as keeping an eye on Sulee gamboling for the children, notices the Halfling in the group at the window.
Strange. This is the second time that someone unfamiliar is paying too much attention to Sulee. This one also appears to be unarmed, though I was wrong on that for the first one. This one is also behaving in a nonstandard manner. Threat level undetermined. Hostility level moderate. Proximity is low though since this person is outside the tavern. Conclusion: something to take note of.
"Sulee, the children have left. Can you come back here please."
"Sure. Coming"
Sulee scampers back to Caiten and he lifts her back onto her perch on top of her satchel.
"That was nicely done Hornet*, good job"
"And it is always lovely watching you dance Yasami. I try to dance like you for the children, but I don't think I do it as well."
Yasamina drops from the table, and looks at the little figurine with a smile. "Why thank you, little one. What is your name?", she shifts looks between the familiar and the toymaker.
"My name is Sulee. We are fairly new in town, but I have seen you at Shelyn's Smile.
"Sulee is my familiar and assistant. I work as a toymaker, which requires no small amount of artistic talent in addition to the mechanical crafting. I often go to the followers of Shelyn for advice when my own understanding is lacking."
** spoiler omitted **
** spoiler omitted **
Cenendyl smiles at both the barkeep and the stew
"Ma'am, maybe you could tell me, the Temple of Desna is close, yes? Do you think I could walk there briefly before the Council Meeting? I'm not sure I know the town well enough, and I wouldn't want to be late ..."
"Oh, I do apologise. I have not noticed you. Must because you are so tiny.", she smiles and puts her thumb and index finger in front of her eyes to indicate small size, then stands up straight. "But you know what they say - Sweet things come in small packages!"
"I would say we should introduce ourselves, yes?", she extends a hand to Caiten for a handshake, and then just one finger to Sulee. "Yasamina Risva of Brevoy. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."
She looks around briefly. "You know what... I will give you dance lessons. Just come talk to me in the temple when you feel like it. How does that sound?", she winks at Sulee, and then looks at Caiten, imitating a begging gesture with her hands and puppy eyes. She winks at Sulee and whispers. "Help me out a bit.", then looks back at the toymaker: "Please, Caiten, can we have lessons together? Please..."
Caiten shakes hands readily. "Well, I am certainly not opposed to the idea. So yes, if you are offering dancing lessons, I will definitely allow Sulee to attend."
"I don't, but it's part of my tribute to the divine. Why not share some know-how?"