A steam-punk character generated for a game which never materialized reporting for perusal.
*Salutes*
I also would be voting for Pathfinder. As it is also the system i am most familiar with.
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Amber nods towards the returned bartender from her shadowed corner. A polite, if distant, smile upon her features as she continues to sip at the last of her drink. Her 'shooting iron' still with easy reach of her other hand draped over the chairs back in which she casually reclines.
Amber returns down stairs. Seeing Felmor talking to the expensively dressed noblewoman Amber does little more than smiel. The sailors demeanou seems to have bounced back rather well without her involvment. Nodding to those who show an interest at her arrival, Amber resumes her seat at the table she hd marked put before.
Amber nods at the fey creatures words. "My people are known for their twisting of politics and playing society games." A sad look comes across Amber's face, "Which our enemies used to their advantage." She shakes herself out of the dark mood that is descending upon her. "Still, I do not judge other societies nor creatures by my own countries foibles." She smiles at both Suny and Lureene. "So far within these tavern walls we have been cordial and friendly to one another. I am glad to have made your acquaintance and will of course be counted upon to aid yourselves if need be." Amber straightens from the wall and gives a small polite bow. "Now, if you will excuse me, I shall follow upon your suggestion an see to calming poor Filmore's frayed nerves." She nods to Ravarath and saunters out.
Amber watches the antics of the Elf against poor Felmore. After the gentlemans' hasty departure.
Her eyes narrow, "You play at games that might not go well for you." She says to the brown skinned creature pointedly.
He smiles sheepishly at her, "Was not intent to abduct you. Lureene was concerned about the gnome. She thought you might help. You may leave whenever you wish. There is no threat to you here." Amber smiles at the Idrian in return. "I'm a Gun-Mage. Concern for being 'abducted' isn't the thing. I just don't have time for oggling other cultures state of dress." And again Amber scowls slightly at Felmore.
Lureene gives Felmor a smile, and says "I appreciate you seeing me like this, but I need to know about the gnome you were talking with last night. What did you think of him?" Amber doesn't bat an eye at the potential entendre of Lureenes' comment. "I did notice yourself and said Gnome seemed far too interested in a certain Elf and given her state of dress at the time it was definitely not appropriate." Amber does scowl a little at Felmore, though she still keeps her eyes drifting around the place where the Idrian is standing.
"Amber, it is good to see you again." She then looks up at Felmor and says, "I am Lureene and you are?" Amber does little more than glance at Lureene, though she does nod in acknowledging the greeting. "Ma'am." She simply replies.
Amber responded casually and neutrally to the dusk skined Idrians' request to acompany both himself and Felmore to one of the rooms upstairs. Her face betrayes no emotions when she enters. She simply moves to lean against an available wall space, one leg crossed over another, both arms folded across her chest. "And to what do we." Amber makes it clear that she consoderef Felmore to be a part of her company, "Owe the pleasure of this meeting?" She asks in a quiet, controlled voice. Her gaze generally always lingering on the Idrian or Felmore, not seeming to look towards either of the other two women in the room.
Amber listens to the flamboyant woman's' speal and sighs, turning back to her morning tea.
Settling Felmore to bed, Amber does the proper thing and at least removes the mans' boots before pulling the blanket covers over him. She leaves a final light kiss upon his brow as a parting present before quietly slipping out of the room, closing the door with a final glance over a shoulder and heading back down stairs. She pays no mind to the faint sounds coming from the door with the fairy fire glow as she passes the portal.
He raises a quizzical eyebrow at her, "Mr. Straehan, you said? Are burgeoning friendships in your Llael so lightly tossed aside?" He waves off the need for a response if she doesn't wish to answer and chuckles to himself. Amber arches an eyebrow at the small humanoid in return. "I do apologize, but manners would seem to trump appellations, would they not?" She sighs, "I do apologize again. I am not used to some creatures behavior and find such quite taxing, I must admit." She notes Felmores' swaggered gait. "Come freind Felmore, let us get you to your berth, the better for you to weather the 'morrow', yes?" She says with a smile, as she takes Felmore's arm and leads him towards the stairs and the bedrooms above. Over a shoulder she waives a good-day to Straehan.
Amber rolls her eye at the pairs behavior, stands and saunters over. "Come now." She reaches out and covers the exposed Elf, before firmly placing a hand on both men's shoulders and pushing them strongly back towards the table. "The Elf has shown more than enough disregard for proper behavior. No reason for the pair of you to also fall to such levels." She whispers some what gruffly. "As to your previous question Mr Straehan, I believe the Elf said something about a place called 'Golarion'. Not that such a name means anything to me, whether it be land, country or world." She does not stop pushing the two men until they are all three back at their table. "Felmor, do you remember any more?" She asks as she sits again
Amber has too much experience with the intrigues and politics of her lost home of Llael to give more than a fleeting glimpse of her true nature away so easily. She smiles, though the expression does not reach her eyes. "Forgive me, I am rude. I am Amber DiGlaeys from a country known as Llael, on a continent named as Immoren of the world Caen." Her smile widens. "Within my countries military I held the rank of 'Lieutenant Adeptus', to use the full title." She finishes demurely, then inclines her head, to show she is sorry for the remiss of her manners, as well to show she now awaits Straehan comments.
At Straehans' comment about "An empty throne" Amber is suddenly feeling more alert and alive than she has in a long time. Felmor returns the toast, "To new friends, and a long lasting friendship." "Aye, to new acquaintances..." Amber adds her raised glass to the toast.
Amber adjusts her deportment slightly, deftly adjusting her vest, then she leans forwards and offers the new commer a hand to shake. "Greetings to you. My name is Amber Di'Glaeys." She says with a freindly smile.
Amber, who is still sitting in the company of Master Felmor (sharing their platters of cold cuts and bread-able condiments), watches the new commer walk in, look around and then mosey over to the bar. At the smallish feloows request for 'Port', Amber sits up a bit straiter in her chair.
Amber laughs a little, "Entangled!? Hah! Sunk is more like! Still, my country of llael is land locked. Our trade mainly traveled down a major river. From the Rhullish mountains," She raises a toast to Keane MacYyndrelle, " All the way down to the sea." Amber smiles back, happy in her remembrances and the effect of the good Ferkin Port.
Amber nods at Felmores' words. "Your world, its oceans, sounds very different from mine. Why even our greatest iron clads travel upon the deeps of the Merdius at their peril!" She takes a bite out of her amalgamaiton of two slices of bread and the fillings between. After a moment or two of thoughtfull, and dainty, shewing she swallows. "It's the moons you see. They cause great swirls and eddies. Shifts in the tides, things like that. Why, it's only rescently that ships have managed to find a path across to the distant continent of Zuu, not to mention that there are whoe areas of the continental map thatare still blank, ven in this day of Archano-tech, alchemistry and steam."
Amber innitially says nothing to Felmor, though the offer of more Ferkin quickly thaws her mood. She smiles and indicates they should st. "Come Master Felmor, tell me about the seas and ships of this world called Golarion." She asks, after taking a large sip of her port, then leaning over and begining to assemble the condiments from the platters into a descent snack.
Amber hurries back into the main room with a couple of platters of various treates and a bottle in each hand. Setting them all down upon the table she looks to Felmor.
She looks at the sailor for a few moments... "Well, I've brought something for ourselves to snack upon." She invites Keane MacYyndrelle and Felmor both to help themselves, "But...if it's a room you want for the girl, why don't you run upstairs , work off some of that energy I can see on your face, and see which one's are currently empty." Amber suggests cooly,
Doing her best to hide whatever emotion she is currently feeling.
Amber continues into the Kitchen to rustle up some table treats to share with Felmore and Keane.
Amber politely ignores Felmores' more garrulous comments about sailors fantasies, an eyebrow elegantly arches and she keeps her voice down for the sake of their sleeping companion as she replies. "You do mean in the sea? Actually under the water? Much like fish?" She swirls what remains of her current glass as she thinks, "Interesting..." Her voice grows softer in thought, "I supose with a strong enough thaumaturgeical morphic field...". She nods again to Felmor. "Ah, I do see more clearly now your earlier statement. No, truly I do not know the Elf girl at all." Amber also indicates for Keane MacYyndrelle to join them, though Amber stands, "Well, this will never do! I'm going to peruse the kitchen pantry and see I can rustle up at least some bread,perchance a nice cheese or two. Maybe some cold left over meats..." She smiles and waves to both Felmore and Keane as she enacts upon her plan. With a wink and a grin she adds, "Perhaps something a bit more 'stout' for our Rhullic friend?"
Amber again relaxed. The chair was comfortable, the room was pleasant, the large hearth by which they'd 'put away' the Elf was throwing out enough heat that the rooms' temperature was nicely pleasant. She sighed happy, content to simply 'not think' and just 'be' in the moment. Felmor shifted in his chair slightly, and asked her, "So, do ya know that 'quatic elf? Is she a friend a' yers?" At the sound of his voice her thoughts reassembled, "Hmmm?" She looked at the man, briefly studying his face, marking the complexion shaped by sea to judge by his clothing. "Oh...no, not at all. At first I was confusing her with the Iosians' I'd heard about and briefly seen...," Her voice trails off, "Such creatures are very secretive and leave little but speculation to even our best scholars. Even those Iosians' who travel through our 'Lands of men' keep themselves very much to themselves." Her emerald eyes focused slightly more intensely. "What do you mean 'Aquatic'? As in another nautical pastime?" Ambers' gaze growths contemplative, "That would explain the accent, in part, as well as the particular sense of dress." She mulls her ideas over some more, "Truth be told, I don't think I've ever seen some one acting like her..." Amber looks again to Felmor. Have you heard the girl explain anything about her past? I have not." Again a slight colouring comes to Ambers' pale complexion and she smiles, "Listen to me, a long diatribe when the simple answer, my freind, is that no I do not currently class the girls as a companion, nor know anything at all about her." Amber looks to her glass. "Yes indeed this is Farkins' good Port." She mutters and the glow to her cheeks is possibly more related to said alcohol than not. Then the pair are joined by the presence of Keane MacYyndrelle.
Amber nods and smiles, "Sorry, no offense taken or meant." She offers a hand shake o Felmore. seeing the gentleman arrange things for the Lass, Amber both sighs and smiles, turns and heads up to her room. Soon to return with some of the blankets from her own bedding. "Not to worry, I found where the spare linen is kept." She smiles to Felmor, as they both help 'tuck' the Elf lass in for her nap. Amber then takes two glasses from those available behind the bar and offers Felmor some of her Ferkin Port to share.
He turns to Amber, and asks "Excuse me, miss Amber, is there any way you could take this lass upstairs ta yer room? I would, but no one is here ta git a room from!" Amber blinks once, twice at Felmor's suggestion...With an arched eyebrow she then replies, "The...lass..has indicated she knows those others." Amber waves a hand towards the stairs. She looks at the brown skinned Elf, trying not to notice the rather casual attire of the girl. "Miss...Suny, Do you have a room of your own, perhaps?" Her voice calm, neutral but friendly. Amber looks to Felmor, "I'm sure the proprietor shall return shortly, Master Felmor. Indeed I can't see how there would be any harm in moving some chairs together and enjoying the warmth of the large fire place there." Amber points to the indeed large and welcoming hearth.
Amber watches the Elf interact with the sailor casually from the corner of an eye. When the girl skips around behind the bar and disappears behind the furniture, Amber arches an eyebrow as she is rather sure common folks should not peruse other people place of business. Quietly Amber gets up and walks softly over to where Felmor Traker is leaning over to watch the antics of the girl. "Excuse me...'Suny' is it?" Amber calls out to the Iosian, *Well, since here isn't home, it's obvious that the Elves here are different as well* She muses.
Amber watches the antics of the Iosian lass.
She turns her head to watch the dancing flames within the fire place, one hand rising to cover her mouth and the grin there.
"I have never seen yer style of dress b'fore, n' I been sailin' all over Golarion." Amber smiles, "Ah, well that would be because I call my world Immoren." Amber looks to where the tanned and rather scantily clad Elf is fishing around beneath the tables. She shakes her head and dismisses the event.
Felmor looks at her more closely, and says, Yeah , you don't look like yer a native girl. where is you from?" Amber looks at Felomr, "Originally? A country call Llael..." Amber sighs, "But the tides of war are cruel and now, I find my self dispossessed by harsh tyrants who have claimed right of ownership by force of arms." A gleam comes to her eyes. "But mark me well. They who oppress forget the history of such oppression. There were a people, centuries ago with my worlds history, who ruled by sword, rapine and fire. They were defeated by my people skill of arms and technomancy and we shall cast off these new usurpers just as we did the old!" Ambers eyes gleam with a fervor as she speaks, then she catches herself, "Ah, forgive me, my people are...some times more passionate than is good for us." And her cheeks glow with colour again as she lowers her gaze demurely.
Amber watches the Iosian...'girl'...dither at the foot of the stairs, adjusting the collection of things gathered in the woven fabric at her hip.
Now it is Ambers turn to look questioningly at Felmor, "You must forgive me, these are not terms with which I am familiar." She lifts her light jacket to reveal the shoulder holster with its weapon. "I fear I am less native to 'these parts' than perhaps any of those three?"
Amber watches the unfolding events. Well, the actions of the Iosian were certainly something to add to her journal. Turning to Felmor Traker she extends a hand. "Good..day...my name is Amber Di' Glaeys." He turns to Amber, and asks weakly, "Did ya see whut I saw?" Amber gives a slight nod, "Yes, an Iosion Elf. A Iridrian native, but I am unsure as to whom the third party member was." Slight colour rises in Ambers' cheeks. "Forgive me but while I have some studies, they mainly deal with things of a more 'martial' nature. My Academy days had little to do with...biology."
He walks over to Amber's seat, and asks, "Is this seat taken?" Amber looks up at the fellow. Normally she would think twice about such company, but here? Within the walls of this strange place? She has quickly come to realize things are not always what they seem. Then the Iosian, the Idrian and the....She pauses as her mind tries to work out just what the other woman upon the Southern Savages arm is. With a raised eyebrow at the scene that has just entered she replies to Felmor Traker, "Of course." And she greets him with a smile
Amber saunters casually down the stairs, dressed in a fresh shirt, vest, pants and boots. A light jacket has replaced the large and heavy great coat she had entered the tavern in. She looks around, noting the lack of people about the place. Her gun is not immediately evident. Still, more places to sit comfortably, she thinks as she happily settling into a nice corner, leaning back in her chair and waiting for any one of the staff to see to her requests.
Amber slowly comes to wakefulness. She blinks into the dim light of the room, content to lie comfortably within the folds of the mattress, sheets, blankets and pillows. She feels the edges of hunger, but for some one whom has felt the bite of starvation gnawing at her senses, the small pangs at the edge of her awareness are as nothing. She sighs contentedly, becoming aware of other things. The warm weight upon her body where a dark furred shape also slumbers. reaching out to gently stroke its fur, she is rewarded by the soft rumble buzz of purring as the large black cat responds to her ministrations. Gently shifting the shape Amber sits up, sheets and blankets tumbling from her as she does so. First, Amber set brush and comb to hair. Next she sets herself sitting upon the edge of the mattress with the large black cat snuggled against one leg and her pistol lying upon her other. With eyes closed, the lady Amber again relaxes and mediates, one hand stroking the fur of the large black cat, her other hand gently stroking the metal and form of her gun. The cat responds with slightly louder purring, while the weapon responds with a faint eldritch glow of its own in return. After an hour or so of such meditation Amber rises properly and moves into the bathroom, thee to thoroughly enjoy a long, hot, herb scented bath. Once cleaned, refreshed and atired in a lihgter amount of clothing than that in which she entered Moe's wonderous establishment, Amber heads down stairs to see about vanquishing her hunger.
While not happy that she feels slightly disinclined to get caught up in the tangle that is Lureens' life, Amber sighs as she goes about redying herself for bed. Once her clothes are folded neatly Amber settles under the blankets and prepares for sleep, glad that the noises from down stairs are totally dampened by the inns stout construction. In the rooms darkness, a pair of green eyes open and the large black cat pads across the room to pounce up onto the blankets and seeks out a comfortable spot on which to sleep.
Amber is at fist too distracted by the very well appointed room she has been shown and wondering about her meager budget when Lureenes' comment registers. She blinks at the lass, now the 'maid'. "Um, while I do consider yourself as a freind. Please be reassured that I would be more than happy to help defend you from others that would wish you harm." Amber smiles and grips Lureenes' hand to assure the woman. whisper: "Um, do you mean you wish to instigate an encounter with said smelly fellow?"
Amber smiles as she rises to follow along behind Lureene.
Lureene moves off to check the rest of the customers, seeing Amber with her hand raised, she walks over to her table, asking, "Something you need, Amber?" Amber smiles in return to Lureene, "I was just wondering about rooms, dinners and...." She hesitates, slight colour rising in her cheeks, "...necessities?"
Amber waits politely until Lureene is not too busy to attract the woman's attention.
Amber smiles, glad that the hard working fellow has come through the encounter none the worse for wear. She returns to her seat and goes back to enjoying light sips of Port.
"Sire you quite all right?" Amber asks Mores. "That...thing.." She indicates the deceased and spreading Orc saying no more, but the look of disdain and distaste upon her features are clearly evident. "Such thuggish ruffians." She sighs.
Amber is caring for Mores, effectively out of this fight
*Oh poot* Amber just has time to think.
At the stunted Ogruns' actions towards the barkeep Amber is standing fluidly, pistol drawn and pointed. While her free hand weaves and twists above the barrel. Instantly circles of glowing arcane power form around both her hand and the weapon. With the spell set she raises the pistol and draws a closer aim upon the Runty-Ogruns' head "Put the man down slowly. I shan't repeat myself, lout." She warns, her eyes aglow with the same arcane fire that encircles her outstretched weapon.
Amber is more than happy to pass the time with Lureene and seems equally able to tune out the Gobbers loud voice.
Amber continues to enjoy the tipple that she has been offered by the bar-keep..
Amber shifts away from the eccentric elder gentleman. Though a raised eyebrow is directed his way. "I sear, there are Professors at some of the Universities just like him..." She mutters to no one in particular. By the fire, the large black house cat rolls over again.
Amber is left slightly non surplussed as the newly hired maid sashays away. To the Gobbers comments, she returns a polite smile. Since she isn't sure whether showing teeth is a polite thing to do, or perhaps a prelude to fighting. "I must set things straight regarding certain things." She muses softly to herself, then again becomes distracted and engrossed in enjoying her fine beverage. |