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I hear their approach from ahead! Ashenal hisses. We should advance so that more can engage them! Spoiler: Initiative Roll 1d20+2=19
Ashenal lifts the twin vials before his face in mock salute to Janiven. Milady's courtesy is none diminished. Tucking the vials into his belt, he lets the others pass to follow in the rear with the bard, a throwing dagger in his right hand. Ashenal's gaze is constantly drawn behind them. Let's get moving. Our pursuers seem to have lost no motivation.
Ashenal raises an eyebrow at the standing elf and grins. I'm not sure I can top that performance. And I'm not sure that I need to. I would only add that it sickens me to take the stage before a crowd of devil-worshipping noblemen. We have all spoken volumes about our thoughts regarding this city merely by our presence here tonight. What I would hear from our hostess is her plan of action, for I will not throw my life away on a rash, emotional crusade. Change will only happen in Westcrown through guile, wit, courage, skill, and luck.
Did you know, magician, that this artist playing for us is no mere minstrel?, Ashenal says, indicating the sitar-strumming man. Introduce yourself before they start throwing coppers at you, man! But to answer your question. My father's work, as you say, was like play for him. As were his indiscretions. But a stiff price he paid for his failings, Ashenal says with a sigh, downing the rest of his drink. And I never knew my mother, the only one that could hold the great Urusol's heart. Suffice it to say that my family tree has been pruned most ... diligently. He takes a deep breath. But we move ever forward, and it is not even Act I of this story, is it?
The weary elder lights up at the wine, but even more at the gentleman from Taldor, he stands and crosses the space from his chair to the bar in a grace that dares his age to slow him down. for those paying attention a Falcata swings from his belt, it seems this Chelish son has Taldorian roots. "Well met Ashenal, I have heard your name, but cannot place it, please indulge me". Looking the smaller man up and down, "Perhaps the theater?". Aye, the theater. But you flatter me; I am but a overwrought jester, nothing more. Likely, my name has come to you as the son of Urusol. A master thespian he was, Ashenal says, looking in his drink and swirling it, distracting himself for a moment. But a dark tale that is, and I imagine we'll have enough dark subjects to discuss this eve, eh? Now, tell me of yourself, sir. Besides, of course, of your impeccable style and excellent breeding, which is obvious, he says, bowing. I would be honored to have your name, and your station of course. Are you an officer in the army?
Conspicuous? Whatsoever about? the smirking Taldan says, grabbing a bottle of spirits from behind the counter and a half-dozen glasses. He sets them all on the bar and pours a full measure into each, draining the bottle. Searching in vain for a place to discard the empty vessel, he tosses it absently behind the bar and shrugs at the blue-headed man. He picks up one of the glasses. I am Ashenal ... yes, THE Ashenal, he says darkly, then brightens, raising his glass to the lady. After a quick gulp, he continues. And I'm glad to have the acquaintance of all of you. Come, drink, all -- none should face their deaths without a stiff drink. For you, my good man? Ashenal says, offering a glass to the tired warrior. Come now, have a drink with me. Surely one as accustomed to death should have no fear of ... this? he asks, indicating the gathering as a whole.
A bulbous-nosed beggar in rags staggers through the front door, his left hand clutching a bottle of poor wine and his right fishing around near the front of his trousers. He looks around as if eying a place to relieve his bladder. "Good birdie. Nicesh birdie," he says absently. Assessing the two others in the room, he suddenly straightens and grins, removing the costume nose from his face. Under the rags you now see leather armor and a rapier slung on his back for concealment. His slender form and youthful, well-bred Taldan looks now apparent, he grins widely and shrugs apologetically. "You can never be too careful in this town, eh? Still, it's good to see a bit of fight left in some here," he says, walking behind the bar and chucking his poor wine into the garbage. Anything decent to drink around here, milady? he says charmingly to his hostess.
I'm Gene, player of Ashenal, human male actor (rogue). I'm 41, have played D&D on and off since I was 10 (yes, the three little books in the small box -- the pre-Basic Set days). I am self-employed. I enjoy mai tais, jai alai, long walks along the beach, and white-hot heterosexual monogamy. Oops, wrong forum there. |
