Welcome to Riftview, travelers. When you approached the city from the south, you noticed a number of orchards and grain farms, and a number of humans, traulls, and kobolds working in them. You received a few odd looks, but most paid you little heed. When you got to the town’s gates, a half-dozen farmers were bringing their produce to town on ox-pulled wagon or with the help of kobold porters. The twin, three-story towers that frame the road into Riftview are likely the largest fortifications you all have seen, and they are topped with wooden structures and green and black flags, archers stand atop each tower. Banners of green and black depict the Calistari Lion and the Dragon of Drakkenfeyr. When you reach the gates, large wooden structures left open but tethered to draft horses in the even of emergency, you are approached by the guards, well-armed humans and traulls wearing breasplates. While a bit impersonal, they are more worried that you are here for trouble, being heavily-armed warriors from the wilds. They ask you a number of questions, and after being convinced you’re not here to cause trouble, they let you in. They are happy to answer basic questions about the town’s amenities, but only skim over the important people in town. He says to stop by the Garrison if you’re looking for work, or the Wicker Warrior if you’re looking for a room—or to prove yourselves.
The massive and garish Wicker Warrior’s exterior stands in contrast to the rest of the town’s sandy color. The Duergar foundation stones depict warriors battling, and are painted in vibrant hues. The windows, of many different shapes and sizes, are a combination of wavy clear glass and stained glass, likely imported from far away. The wooden, brick, and stone walls seem to have little rhyme or reason, the architect just adding materials at whim, or where they fit best, but the over all effect is like a patchwork collage or quilt. Painted signs in many languages, and even more colors, hang all over the front of the tavern, promising good food, good drinks, and advertising the Weekly Wicker War. The most prominent feature, though, is the rich azure-painted wicker effigy, some 12 feet tall, that looms above the first floor entrance. Its face resembles a widely-smiling troll, and it is equipped with a wicker helmet, shield, and sword. On the door itself, in multiple languages and in bold yellow script is the warning: NO FIRE MAGIC!
The Warrior’s interior is chaotic, yet inviting. The straw-strewn floor, dim lighting, and the smells of ale and rich foods are the first thing you notice. As your eyes quickly adjust to the lighting, you see that the entrance steps down into a grotto-like common room, filled with tables, benches, chairs, three bar counters, and an array of open-topped barrels. The central focus of the establishment is, however, what all the chaotic furnishings surround: the Wicker Arena. About twenty feet wide by twenty-five feet long, this rectangular depression in the center of the room affords all in the tavern a good view of whatever is inside. Currently, it is full of extra tables and a handful of patrons playing cards, but as the signs outside promise, it will become a spectacle of battle in a few days. Stairs in the back of the building lead upward, likely to the rooms above.
While the building is set up to accommodate a crowd of around a hundred souls, it is easy to imagine it filled with many times that if the furniture was rearranged. Currently, at this early hour, it is nearly abandoned. A human boy of about 15 sweeps and wipes down tables, and a heavily tattooed older human man cleans glasses and rearranges bottles behind the largest bar, left of the entrance. A mix of humans and traulls are playing cards, 8 in total, in the arena space, and by the looks of them they are mercenaries or militia. It’s hard to tell. An elderly human couple sit at a table to the right of the entrance, eating some sort of stew and having quiet, pleasant conversation. Three kobolds, miners or laborers of some sort, accompany a middle-aged female traull at a table in the rear. She is busy scribbling in ledgers, and having the kobolds move a bunch of stones around, doing complicated mathematics or the like. It looks like they’ve already finished their meals, and the boy brings them ale and water at one point. Finally, a trio of merchants, a vesh and two humans, sit at the bar with the bartender and seem to be taking a long time looking over the simple menu, while arguing over which wine to order first. The only other denizen of the tavern is a lazy old bloodhound that is curled up in a leather armchair near the card players. He occasionally gets up to drink some water from a bowl near the bar or trot outside the front door to do his business. He is likely a resident of the bar, and not the pet of one of the gamblers.
The tattooed man welcomes you all warmly when you first come in, but asks you frankly if you have the coin to pay. When you prove that you do, his disposition remains cheerful, jolly even. He says to take a seat wherever you like, but it’s a good idea to keep clear of the game in the center, as they tend to be hot-blooded and don’t like the swampfolk much. He introduces himself as Shaygen, and says that the lad, Carther, will take care of you while he sets up, but if you have any questions, feel free to ask him.
Wanting no trouble from any of the locals, Rsss'tak looks for a likely seat for he and Djatrix to occupy away from the gambling and moves over to sit.
Speaking softly to Djatrix in Draconic, My friend, we are here Djat, in the belly of the per se human beast. he gives him a toothy grin, It is odd not to smell the swamp, the humans don't smell very nice. So what is next? The Rift is supposed to be a dangerous place. Do we stay here for a few days and wait for the next sign?
Yochtanl walks into the Wicker Warrior, accompanied by his friend Palag. Around Yochtanl's waist and curling down one of his legs is an intriguing snake with multicolored scales in a rainbow pattern. Yochtanl and Palag chat with each other lightheartedly in Vesh, moving themselves toward a table close to the bar. Yochtanl climbs up onto one of the chairs with a considerable effort, his snake slithering higher on his body to avoid being sat on. The snake is partly wrapped around Yochtanl's throat now, but he doesn't even seem to notice, much less mind. He gently rubs the snake absentmindedly as he talks to Palag, now in a more serious tone.
He says in Vesh, "We will need some assistance if we are to explore these ruins. Their secrets will do us no good if we are slain inside them. You know more of these human societies than I. How do we find someone who is capable of undertaking this journey with us?"
The first thing Benjamin noticed upon entering the Wicker Warrior was the smell. It had a lovely pungent smell of fine foods, but he couldn't help but smell the sweat and stink as well. Looking around the tavern, no one seemed out of place to him. People were working, gambling, having a good time, and not too many people were here as well. Perhaps he could get a bit of information from here after all. Walking up to the bar, he took a seat somewhat away from the others at the bar, an empty seat between him and them. He tried not to stare much at the others as he looked around before looking at the bartender.
"I'll take a cup of ale if you don't mind. Nothing too strong." Benjamin said, getting comfortable in his seat. "Alcohol and I aren't the best of friends ya see."
Having just finished commenting the striking exterior of the tavern, Palag walks in with Yochtanl and looks curiously around the place. He takes a short moment to observe the general layout and people. To him, the place seems cozy in its own way, even though its size is too large. He notes the few lizardfolk who entered at about the same time, but since he was rather used to seeing them in Touli, he doesn't take too long watching them.
Over at their chosen table, Palag sets his backpack down on a chair. Unlike Yochtanl who climbed on his chair, Palag instead jumps on the table with ease but is considerate enough to keep his shoes off of it, landing on his shins. He then adjusts his darker owl mask a bit before replying to his friend, also in Vesh. "Not to mention picking the right ruins!" he says comically, but continues with a more serious tone. He watches Yochtanl's snake squirming, but by now doesn't really pay attention to it. "In Touli people had some sort of informal gathering place for travelers to meet. This city is different, but humans do like their big buildings and sitting inside them when they're not working. So there's a chance this very place is a good spot to find company. Maybe not at this hour though." Palag takes a gander at the rather empty room. "Either way, I could use some food right about now."
Palag smiles behind his mask and turns to the waiter boy, Carther. "One vesh-sized plate of food, please." He doesn't specify what he wants exactly, since he thinks any food will do.
Shaygen pours a mug of ale for Benjamin, and sets it in front of him. "Ale comes in mugs, not cups," he smiles at Benjamin, "you really don't drink much do ya?" The ale is a light, golden ale, not too strong. It still tingles your nose though, and you realize you best get some food to go with it.
After about ten minutes, Carther brings out a plate of baked trout, steamed carrot-like root vegetables, and a side of sliced fruit for Palag. A hearty meal for Palag's small person, but the fare of one on a diet for a human. It seems the Warrior is used to serving vesh.
Yochtanl catches the scent of the steaming fish before it's brought to the table, and his head whips around to track the plate's course towards them. He unconsciously grabs at his stomach, and makes a little moaning sound as the food is placed on the table beside Palag. He turns to the waiter and says in Common, "Perhaps I can get one of those too?"
Once the waiter leaves, Yochtanl turns his attention back to the table. He eyes Palag's food greedily as he says in Vesh, "I really cannot get enough of this human food. They really know how to prepare a fish well!" He snatches a vegetable off the plate, tilting his head back to maneuver the vegetable past his mask. After chewing vigorously on it, he continues in Vesh. "So, you mean the people in this room might be the ones who'll go with us? But, how do we know which ones? Perhaps they are marked in some way?" He looks carefully at the merchants, the lizardfolk, the men playing cards in the center of the tavern. He also looks for the young waiter expectantly.
Palag wonders why the two humans and one vesh are interested in them, but for now just assumes that they're admiring Yochtanl's exceptional mask.
Pleased when the food arrives, Palag thanks and pays for it right away and starts eating, still sitting on his shins on the table. He lifts his mask with his tail but doesn't actually take it off at any point, which makes eating a bit tricky but also slows it down enough so that he doesn't just gulp the whole plateful right away. He also doesn't mind Yochtanl helping himself to the food.
"True that," replies Palag to Yochtanl's comment about humans and food. "This is delicious. It reminds me a little of this one human cook who stopped by in Touli, he made some kind of special fish food and I have no clue how, but he called it..." Palag switches from Vesh to Jyp-Turrani since the translation would only be cumbersome. "...'raw-fish-carrot-salad with sauce'. If I remember that right."
Palag glances at the merchants, curious to see whether the three are still interested in the conversation about food and whether they understand Jyp-Turrani also. He then turns to Yochtanl again and replies to his question, not switching back to Vesh yet. "It's possible. Obviously not some of them though. But those people up there look pretty capable. And maybe the lizardfolk. They seem like travelers. You'll have to ask Quetzalcoatl about whether they're marked, I have no clue," he adds light-heartedly.
Djatrix follows Rsss'tak to the table, all the way more interested in scratching his nostrils due to the uncommon smell of the place than the local patrons.
He takes a seat, looking absentminded towards the door as the pair of vesh enter, following them with his eyes towards the bar. The masked one seems somehow curious to him.
Djatrix blinks twice a if realizing Rsss'tak had spoken with him. He turns, forming a thin smile and speaks in Draconic.
I am sure they will tell me where our path will guide us. Djatrix turns a distant glance up, as if trying to listen to their whispers, but sights, shaking his head. He changes subject as if their quest was suddenly less important.
Do you think this place serves eadable food and juice?
Yochtanl understands that Palag's comment was half-jest, but feels that it is worth a shot anyway. He moves his head down to whisper in Vesh to Quetzalcoatl, "Does the Feathered Serpent deem any of these people as destined to travel with us?" He adjusts his head so his ear is right next to the snake's mouth in order to listen closely.
Djatrix follows Rsss'tak to the table, all the way more interested in scratching his nostrils due to the uncommon smell of the place than the local patrons.
He takes a seat, looking absentminded towards the door as the pair of vesh enter, following them with his eyes towards the bar. The masked one seems somehow curious to him.
Djatrix blinks twice a if realizing Rsss'tak had spoken with him. He turns, forming a thin smile and speaks in Draconic.
I am sure they will tell me where our path will guide us. Djatrix turns a distant glance up, as if trying to listen to their whispers, but sights, shaking his head. He changes subject as if their quest was suddenly less important.
Do you think this place serves eadable food and juice?
Probably nothing a fresh as what we are used to, but you never know. in common, Barkeep, do you have any local fish to eat? Two plates would be appreciated. Also some fresh water or juice, thanks you. he says in rough common.
In Draconic, in a more serious tone, Why were you staring at those two Vesh?
A chuckle came from Benjamin as he looked at the ale. "Aye, I don't. Like I said, alcohol and I aren't the best of friends. He smiled to the bartender.
Benjamin took a sip from the mug as he looked for the waiter. Once he saw him, he gave a light shout over to him. "Waiter, can I perhaps get some venison if you can, lightly cooked. If not whatever kind of meat you have will do." He took another sip from the mug before turning back to the barkeep. "If you don't mind me asking, I have a question for you. Have you heard of any groups or adventurers heading toward the Rift as of late?"
Djatrix glances briefly at Rsss´tak, the smile still on his lips, and shrugs.
It is a funny mask, he says in draconic. I can hardly hear the whispers here.
His eyes glance around slowly as his hands fumble inside his bag for something. A piece of leather parchment and a inkpot made out of horn fall from his bag and roll away. Djatrix curses under his breath, as if arguing with someone not there, then gets up and goes pick up his items.
Maybe they will give me some insight, he says, sitting back down and placing the parchement over the table. If they are able to be serious for once.
He plucks one of the feathers that decorates his wooden armor, tests its tip, and then looks away, as if waiting to hear something.
Behind his mask, Palag grins at Yochtanl and then continues eating. He finds the exchange between Shaygen and the man at the counter amusing and looks up curiously when the man mentions people traveling to the Rift. Palag could mention that he and Yochtanl are planning on going there but decides to hear Shaygen's answer first.
Palag also catches the words "funny mask" from one of the lizardfolk, though that is pretty much all he hears since he wasn't trying to listen to them speaking and they aren't very close by. After a short moment, he turns his head to glance at the scaly people. Seeing that they don't seem to be up to anything, he just turns back. Besides, it's much likelier that they were talking about Yochtanl's mask and not his.
Carther smiles at Yochtanl, "I thought you'd say that. I had the cook start a second order already." Carther turns to Palag and says, "You, um, do know what a chair is for, um, don't you?" He turns toward the kitchen, "Be right back." The boy heads to the kitchen, pokes his head in and shouts, "Oy, Djagu! 'nother plate o' fish, pal." Carther then helps break open some crates of lemons, freeing up Shaygen to pour more drinks.
The patrons of the inn all glance toward Rsss'tak as he calls to Shaygen across the bar. Shaygen gives both Rsss'tak and Djatrix an inquiring look, then motions for Carther. While keeping his eyes on the lizardfolk, he says to the boy, "Lad, go tell D to fix up his special for them." The boy nods and goes to the kitchen. "Oy, Djagu! Two plates o' yer fish grub."
Carther shrugs his shoulders as if to say 'I don't know,' and then grabs a steaming plate and carries it to Yochtanl.
Shaygen breaks his gaze on the lizardfolk, apparently content they meant no offense, and turns to Benjamin. "We do well, but not so well to stock venison, lad. Try Cardwallo's on the weekends. They sometimes serve it. I've got lamb, goat, pig, snake, fish, and pheasant. Take your pick. As for folks braving the Rift, there aren't many that dare, lately. As for the food, may I recommend a family specialty?" Shaygen leans in and whispers,
Djarix sighs and shakes his head. He closes his eyes, placing the feather down on the table and scratching the scales on his head with his talons.
This place is too noisy... Djarix opens his eyes, looking around slowly. Though it in a way feels... dream-like.
He turns back to Rsss'tak with a look that his cousin have seen before, of when Djatrix recollects a vision.
His attention shifts to the door where he heard the apparent lizardman cook speak, but he says nothing.
Djarix sighs and shakes his head. He closes his eyes, placing the feather down on the table and scratching the scales on his head with his talons.
After waiting a few moments, and not receiving a response, Yochtanl gives a small shrug and turns back to Palag. In Vesh he tells, "Well, it seems that the Feathered Serpent has closed lips today. I suppose we must find someone capable through other methods." He sits back in the chair, looks to the kitchen a couple times, and listens to the various conversations floating through the air.
The conversations blur together and Yochtanl can't distinguish any particular one. He is content to wait for his meal for the time being.
"For holding my backpack ...I mean, yes," replies Palag amicably to Carther in Common. "But it's too low to be comfortable while eating. Though I guess I could've asked if you had a higher chair. Do you?" he asks, as the issue just now pops into his mind.
Palag acknowledges what Yochtanl said but doesn't have anything to add, so he just continues eating.
After he fails listening in on Shaygen and Benjamin, he thinks that maybe chewing while listening wasn't a very bright idea.
Benjamin smirked at the reply to the barkeep. "That's alright. Even if the food is a bit bad, it is food after all." Looking up at the barkeep, he hoped his message got through. "As for my meal, lamb will do fine, thank you." He slumped up against the counter and took another sip of the ale as he waited for his lamb to be cooked.
In common, I should practice my common some more since we may be here a while. I guess we should ask if they have rooms available as well as what do the humans call it....a stable? Yes I believe that's what its called.
What are you seeing Djat?
Also, read the rest of the paragraph. You got your food. :)
Carther pulls two high barstools from a nearby table for the vesh with a friendly smile.
I only believe my patron to be the Feathered Serpent; that's not necessarily where my powers come from, just where I think they do. It could be a cool plot point if you slowly insinuated through my conversations with my familiar later on that my powers actually come from somewhere else...
Yochtanl gladly takes the stool from Carther, as it gives him a better view of the tavern and he doesn't have to reach up to get at his food. He munches happily on the fish, figuring that he and Palag can wait for the tavern to fill up later in the day before they find someone in it to join them.
Ducking his head to avoid the doorframe, Vess'Sothek enters the Warrior slightly after his tribesmates, Djatrix and Rsss'tak, taking a moment to view the exterior. He didn't much care for structures so much enclosed from the outside, and though not afraid of them, the great indoors kept him on his toes more than he otherwise would be. The trip to Riftwatch was a refreshing one for the hunter, the altering terrain making him feel out-of-place and excited for discovery at the same time. Having observed the clash with Djatrix and the clan and not exactly agreeing with it, he offered to travel with the pair to the town, not minding to leave the tribe for a time, himself a bit estranged from the warrior orders.
Finally entering the establishment, the reptile hears Rsss'tak saying something in common to the barkeep, recognizing only a few words of the unlearned tongue. "Fish," "eat", and "two" are the only words that stick-out to him.
Seeing Djatrix sitting next to Rsss'tak, Vess'Sothek doesn't put two-and-two together (which is not something the reptile does well), and only realizes they are ordering food from their common speech; always hungry, he attempts to place an order as well. Pointing to himself as he takes his place besides Rsss'tak, he looks at the bartender and says in his best attempt at common, Fish, eat. Though the ranger had fared well enough for game on the way to Riftwatch,
he did miss the culinary skill of the cooks from the tribe during the trip.
Hearing a voice in his native tongue made the reptile curious to inquire what things were like in Riftwatch, though not enough to go looking for the speaker immediately; perhaps after the fish was finished. In the meantime, his eyes searched the room passively, his mind agreeing with the assessment of the alien-looking Vesh and noting the bloodhound laying in the corner. Though not fond of most warmbloods, as a game hunter, the lizardfolk had a stout respect for canines with their keen noses and obedience - if trained, of course.
Nodding in assent to Djatrix's comment about the noise, Vess'Sothek replies in Draconic, And full of smell with no wind. You dreamt of this before?
"Excellent, thank you," says Palag to Carther. He then plops on the barstool and resumes with what he has left of his food.
When he is nearly done eating, Palag looks at the waiting Benjamin and figures that since he inquired about people heading to the Rift, he might also be interested in going there. If Palag were any further from the bar counter, he would walk to the man, but since he and Yochtanl got a table close by, he just addresses Benjamin from his newly acquired barstool. "Excuse me, sir human with the scythe. Can I ask why you are interested in groups going to the Rift?"
As Benjamin drew the mug to his lips for another sip, he stopped midway to address the voice. He looked over to see the mask wearing vesh "looking" at him. It was hard to tell with that mask he was wearing. "I have...unfinished business in the Rift you see..." Benjamin looks away before looking back. He seemed to be lost in thought for the few seconds. "Going to the Rift by oneself would be suicide, I'm looking for a group perhaps that would be willing to take me there, perhaps as a guard as they traveled." No longer wanting to talk about the subject of the Rift, he changed the subject.
"That is a nice mask you are wearing, it is finely crafted. No doubt a fine owl's image."
Djatrix's suddenly gets up, his eyes wide and his head frills raised in sudden realization.
The owl and the snake, he whispers, ignoring his companions. They are the ones!
Without waiting for the reaction of either his companions, Djatrix picks his belongings in a rush and stuff them inside his bag. He pushes himself away from the table, striding towards the two vesh with eyes deeply focused on them.
It is you, he says as he reaches the duo, ignoring the human who speaks with them. Djatrix places eager talons over the shoulders of each vesh. It is you who will unlock my path to the Rift!
Rss'tak suddenly rises and faces the rest of the room, eyeing the other occupants warily while his cousin converses with the Vesh...
Yochtanl pauses from his eating when he hears Palag address Benjamin. He had been too engrossed in Palag's food earlier to notice what the human was saying to the barkeep, and now he is trying to figure out what Palag heard. However, before he gets very far, a hulking lizardman (at least compared to Yochtanl) grabs him by the shoulder. The vesh spins around, his train of thought coming to a crash as he looks at who this new person is. Quetzalcoatl stands up on Yochtanl's shoulder, hissing at the suddenness of the lizardman's approach. The snake stays staring at Djatrix a few seconds, then lowers himself back onto Yochtanl's shoulder after realizing there is no threat.
Yochtanl stays silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts, then says to the lizardman in strangely accented Common, "It seems the Feathered Serpent is aiding our quest after all. Tell me, what is your name?"
Seeing no threat from the Vesh Djatrix is obsessed with, Vess'Sothek remains seated, though faces them, listening for words he may recognize in common speech.
"I see!" says Palag to Benjamin. "We were considering going there as well, weren't we?" he asks rhetorically from Yochtanl. He pauses and thanks the human for his compliment about the mask, but before Palag can get back to business, one of the lizardfolk comes to them.
Palag's first reaction is to dodge the massive hand-like appendage but that would mean dropping right down from the barstool. However, the lizardman doesn't seem violent, so Palag chooses to stay put and stare at him, bewildered and rather uneasy about the talons on his shoulder. "What?" he says in Common, sounding concerned. Palag eyes the other two lizardfolk who remain where they were, wondering what they know of this sudden incident. When Yochtanl speaks, he turns to look at the other vesh curiously. He also tries to lean away from Djatrix's talons.
The merchants at the bar turn to Benjamin and the vesh and are about to speak when Djatrix comes over and causes a stir.
The lad, Carther, steps back spryly and yells to the kitchen, "Oy, Djagu!! Maybe Trouble?!", then he ducks behind the bar that Shaygen is at.
Shaygen exlcaims, "What be this nonsense? No fightin' in the bar except in the ring! What'd the two wee-masks do to you, anyhows?" Shaygen fumbles with something beneath the bar as he speaks. (It seems that Shaygen and Carther revert to a regional accent when distressed or speaking to each other.)
The armed gamblers stir a bit at the commotion, eyes locked on you. One stands up to get a better view, hand resting on the club at his side.
In the doorway of the kitchen, an eight-foot tall lizardfolk with dark gray-green scales and many runes carved into his scales emerges, the scent of delicious food now stronger. He has many golden spiked earrings, and many more tribal necklaces, and his cook's apron is stained with many foods. The enormous cleaver in his left hand and the glare in his golden eyes tell you he means business. "Maken me fightssss and Djagu not can watschh cooking. Food sssspoil. No good." He surveys the room, and seeing that there is no fight to be had lumbers back into the kitchen. The sound of the cleaver finding a home in a block of wood is the only sound heard before the room goes back to its business.
The commotion in the room is over, the gamblers go back to gambling, the kobolds go back to counting (one seems to be wiping up a spill on the floor, and also dabbing his pants dry...), Shaygen asks everyone what they're having to drink, and the vesh merchant decides to speak up.
"If I may," the blue-green and yellow-masked vesh offers, "My name is Lolfi Qluppl, purveyor of antiquities, relics, and rift-spices." He slides gracefully to the floor and looks at those around. "I've traveled many lands, and I have learned that serendipitous moments such as these are not to be passed up. You're all interested in traveling to the Rift for whatever reason, and I'm interested in procuring exotic plants and ancient relics from the Rift..." He pauses to let his words sink in, then bows for dramatic effect, "Let me humbly suggest that if you all travel to the rift together, you'll have better chances of surviving, and if you happen upon things I would be interested in, I'll pay you for your trouble in bringing them back."
The human merchants seem offended by this display, toss a few coins on the bar, and leave abruptly. "Well, I never... huffs one of them, barely audible as he leaves. The other snags his fine shirt on the saloon-style door, and lets out a string of foul curses, then storms off.
"Excuse my former guests, please. They are displeased at my interest in you, it seems. they wish to deal only with established explorers--which are getting harder to find--and disdain dealing with those they consider mercenaries." Lolfi shakes his head as if watching a child do something wrong. "So I told them to bugger off!" Lolfi crosses his armes over his puffed chest, and you all can imagine he must be grinning from ear to ear.
Lolfi around looks at those present... the human, the two vesh, and the three lizardfolk.
Carther pokes his head in the kitchen again, "That food ready yet, pal?"
"Almossst, almosst!" Djagu's voice is nearly a snarl. Carther narrowly ducks under a half of a sweet potato hurled his direction.
Yochtanl is rather flustered as everyone stands up and starts shouting. He reflexively puts up his arms defensively when he hears the cleaver from the kitchen, and eyes the vesh merchant curiously as he delivers his speech.
When the merchant is finished with that, Yochtanl looks at Palag then pipes up in Common, "Well, I cannot speak for the others here, but I would certainly be interested in traveling with you all as a group. Though we know each other not, the Feathered Serpent has brought those with a common goal together on this day." He then eagerly waits for responses.
Benjamin was surprised by the sudden commotion, but knew it wouldn't scale to a brawl. Even if it did, he wouldn't waste his time bloodying his scythe without a purpose.
As the cook shambles back into the kitchen, Banjamin offers his words on the subject.
"I don't know about your gods, but perhaps fate has brought us together. I have no quarry traveling with others. As long as we are able to reach the Rift, I am in for the idea."
Although the barkeep kept saying bad things about the merchants, the only ones that seemed bad out of them were the humans that left. This vesh seemed at least somewhat trustworthy in his words.
Quickly downing the rest of his ale, he placed the mug on the counter and stood up, awaiting the other responses.
The other thick skinned Lizrd folk walks up behind Djatrix and speaks in common, Well Djat, it seems your visions have led us to the right place. A group of individuals, all with the goal of going into the Rift.
I am Rsss'tak and these are two of my tribesmen, Djatrix, and Vess'Sothek. There is some safety in numbers and as long as they agree I agree.
It might be helpful to take the merchant up on his offer, we will need all of the help we can get and having human currency would be useful in this town.
When the situation settles, Palag is mentally relieved that the others in the bar reacted defensively to a potentially dangerous situation. He glances at the impressive-looking lizardfolk cook before concentrating on the vesh merchant, listening to what he has to say. He looks oddly at the departing humans and then eyes the three lizardfolk again, trying to decide what to think of them.
Palag takes up Shaygen's inquiry about drinks and orders a small ale.
"Hmm, I suppose so," he nods along with Yochtanl's statement and wonders what the slightly over-eager lizardman is going to do. At least the human with the scythe seems like nice company, and the other lizardman who introduces himself Rsss'tak is convincing. Palag then turns to Lolfi again. "I do agree with him, your offer is interesting. As long as there isn't anything fishy behind it!" he adds as a light side comment. "What kind of sums of money are we talking about here? Or does it depend entirely on what we find?" he asks curiously. "And, we are Palag and Yochtanl Torufo. Pleased to meet you all." Palag indicates himself and then Yochtanl as he gives his introduction.
Lolfi is becoming a bit more animated, obviously pleased with the strangers' responses.
"The Rift has a sort of a llure to many in far-off lands, and I can find a buyer for just about anything, though prices vary wildly based on what you find and which caravans I have access to at a given time. Rift spices, like blackthistle, violet fungus, tetherroot, and a myriad of others... I'll try to get a list of the ones I stock the most... are always in demand by someone. Alchemists, cooks, wizards, healers. They all have use for exotic herbs, but alchemists tend to be the best customers, always looking for new and unusual ingredients. They even ask for rocks and animal parts sometimes, but I rarely bother with such niche markets."
At the commotion's onset, the large reptile jettisons himself from his seat, ready to defend himself from would-be assailants. Though content no actual combat ensued, his curiousity was piqued at the queer-looking Lizardfolk from the kitchen. Taller than even he, that rarity alone made Vess'Sothek interested, though the golden earrings were also intriguing to him.
After hearing his name from Rsss'tak, he feels the need to chime-in. You don't seem worried about them. What is it they want?, asks Vess'Sothek in his native tongue. He shakes his head. You will have to teach me some of their words if we will be around them for long.
Yochtanl turns to Vess'Sothek and says in Draconic. "Where are my manners? It was presumptuous of me to assume you spoke the human tongue. Forgive me. I am Yochtanl of Clan Torufo, and this is my friend Palag of Clan Torufo. We wish to explore the Rift, just as your friend here does." Yochtanl's accent is rather poor, and he doesn't roll his S's quite like he should, but his vocabulary is sound. His snake slithers down into his bag and curls up in there, not wanting to be around all the noise.
Yochtanl turns to Vess'Sothek and says in Draconic. "Where are my manners? It was presumptuous of me to assume you spoke the human tongue. Forgive me. I am Yochtanl of Clan Torufo, and this is my friend Palag of Clan Torufo. We wish to explore the Rift, just as your friend here does." Yochtanl's accent is rather poor, and he doesn't roll his S's quite like he should, but his vocabulary is sound. His snake slithers down into his bag and curls up in there, not wanting to be around all the noise.
Vess'Sothek looks surprised with the small creature's bilingual nature at first, then pleased. It is good to be able to make sense of you, Yochtanl. I will go with him to join you in seeing this Rift.
He glances to Palag expectantly, though it is unclear as to for what.
Djatrix blinks slowly as if everything that has happened was a dream. He lowers his talons, a long purplish tongue licking his scaly mouth.
"I... am sorry for my manners." He looks around as if not understanding what could have caused all the commotion. He continues in Common. "Yes, the Rift. It is where our destiny lies. It is where they want us to go to."
Djatrix sighs and steps back. "Though I believe it a risk to bring anything out of it. Especially edibles..."
Lolfi turns his head toward Djatrix and says, "Oohh... you are worried about the fell magic of the Rift further contaminating the rest of Aeux, aren't you? I, and the Calistari Royal Academy of Alchemy and Wizardry as well, have found no evidence to support the idea that items brought out of the Rift have a contaminating effect. But, do as you please. I'm merely in it for the profits."
His words sound contrived and somewhat dismissive, but sincere, as if he's had to give this speech before.
Benjamin nods his approval. He didn't mind being the only human in the group, aside from the merchant's partners. It will give him some time to brush up on his Draconic. "I am in. I cannot allow the Rift to expand, among other things.."
His voice drifts off as he drew his attention to Vess'Sothek. He tries his best to remember what he can and mutters probably the worst Draconic they've ever heard. "Your Common bad. My Draconic badder." He gave a nervous smile, hoping he had said what he meant."Name Benjamin."
His voice drifts off as he drew his attention to Vess'Sothek. He tries his best to remember what he can and mutters probably the worst Draconic they've ever heard. "Your Common bad. My Draconic badder." He gave a nervous smile, hoping he had said what he meant."Name Benjamin."
Vess'Sothek returns Benjamin's smile with his own grin. Though not nervous, at his size, it probably looked a bit frightening - which wasn't his intent, of course. He says slowly We will help you get better. My name is Vess'Sothek. He hesitates for a moment before asking the question: Why are you interested in the rift?
Palag listens keenly to Lolfi, making mental note of the things he mentions and wondering what anyone could possibly do with a Riftrock. He smiles a bit and moves relaxedly as Yochtanl explains he speaks Draconic as well. Palag then nods to Vess'Sothek who is turning out to be quite friendly as well. "We could all speak Draconic, maybe," suggests Palag in Draconic, also with rather undescript s-sounds but otherwise well-spokenly. He looks at Lolfi, wondering if the merchant knows the language as well.
And finally, as Djatrix also comes to his senses, Palag turns to look at him inquiringly. "They?" He is also about to ask about the risk, but Lolfi answers what he wanted to know.
In draconic and then in common for Benjamin and the merchant, Djat can explain better, but he hears the spirits, they told us to come here, to go to the rift.
We must be careful about what we bring out, we can not allow anything out that might cause it to expand or harm the world outside of the rift. That we will not allow.
If we can all agree to that then it is a pact, we will travel together and defend each other to the best of our ability.
He awkwardly extends his hand in the human gesture of greeting although you think he believes it is sealing this pact he speaks of.