Windchime's page

"Oh, yes, I remember now!" Windchime's fingers steeple with excitement. "That is the color we don't serve to humanoids. Please excuse me; a bottle must have been mislabeled, but I will be right back with the wand."

It twirls and dances back to the bar, returning to hastily activate a wand of neutralize poison just as Josten is beginning to feel a slight headache. "We apologize terribly for the inconvenience. Please accept a complimentary dish and drink, and do inform us if any of your hiccups taste the wrong color over the next twenty-four hours." She curtsies. "The Tiamatian nuns who brew Dragon's Whiskey have the most spectacular senses of humor, don't they?"

"Yes, of course, Zeran! And good morning to you both." Windchime appears behind Zeran. She passes two shot glasses filled with clear fluid before Zeran and Josten, then takes out a tindertwig, lights it, and sweeps it quickly above each.

The shot glasses each in turn erupt in flames that cycle between every color of the rainbow, crackling and sizzling and almost instantly burning down. Zeran's drink turns milky white, while Josten's turns a vivid chlorine-green. Windchime puts out the match and claps her hands happily. "Oh, how exciting! We haven't had a green one in quite a long time. I can't even remember what they are supposed to taste like."

Windchime finishes delivering her last order, then twirls and makes its way to the bar. "Master Mitchifer, I think that my shift is over for today. I'll be in my room if I'm needed!"

She swings behind the bar and retrieves a satchel and a large coffee can currently being used to hold the inkpens customers are given to sign waivers. About two dozen find their way into the satchel. She looks narrowly at the very empty tin cup she keeps her tips in, then rises and dances over to join Britta on the walk back to the rooms.

"Oh, it will be so nice to have you here, of course!" Windchime remarks as she breezes past with a heavy tray of drinks.

"Nothing is certain in the World Serpent Inn." Windchime curtseys. "But I can promise that I will be able to find it if it does move."

"Ah! Yes!" Windchime's eyes light up green, and she tilts her head down at Silvertail thoughtfully. "You are looking for the third blue door. I am afraid that this is the only door I am aware of. Would you like me to show you, Mistress?"

If the answer is yes:

Windchime twirls on its tiptoes and pieces its way between tables and guests to reach an ovular door that is decidedly not blue. She stands next to it, hands clasped behind her, bouncing on her heels.

"Windchime"[b wrote:

"Oh, what a pertinent question!"[/b]

Silvertail waits a long moment, but when Windchime offers nothing more she waves her tails in irritation. "And for an answer we'll need to ask someone else, I take it?"

Windchime looks up at the ceiling, head tilting to the side. "Oh, no, Mistress, I am only gathering my thoughts. The answer is quite simple."

Silvertail uses her own prestidigitation to get the blood out of her fur with a wave of her eponymous tail.

"Nothing I haven't dealt with before. The wilds of Scarn are not exactly safe," she comments, with a dismissive swish of her tails. "Windchime, you might actually know, is there a way to tell which doors would lead us to Faerun?"

"Oh, what a pertinent question!"

Zeran glances around, looking for Windchime. "Windchime? Are you still around? We've been directed to request a 'Slap Yo Mama' at the bar. Is there any food that you'd recommend with that? I think I'd like to sit back at the table and think about the fight we just had."

Windchime comes dancing out of the mists. "Ah! Yes, Zeran, of course!" Her blue eyes flicker and lose some of their light as she glances over Silvertail and notices the fox's condition. "Oh, Mistress, your beautiful fur coat has been torn! And so have you! Would you like something that can wash away the blood and put it back where it..."

She snaps back to Zeran, as if realizing mid-sentence that she has ignored a customer's request. "Oh, you must pardon my scattered mind, Zeran. I must discredit my makers so." Her eyes glint orange. "That drink is citrusy and acidic, so though it isn't for me to tell you what to do, I would imagine something like the grilled lyre seawyvern thighs with creamy Solamnic button mushroom sauce would balance the palette wonderfully." The orange brightens. "I am afraid I have never tasted it, though. I only speak to my speculations."

"Oh, this is so exciting," Windchime says happily, pausing in her waitressing duties to watch Josten jump over ten feet straight up in the air. "Everyone is doing so well! So few disembowelments so far!"

Windchime claps her hands happily, its eyes a brilliant burning orange. "Oh, it is always so fascinating to see the way great warriors speak to one another. To anyone else, their communications would seem very dangerous and needlessly escalatory, but I am sure that among giants thrown boulders become confetti."

Windchime jumps a little as she is called out, seeming genuinely briefly startled. Her eyes flicker for a few colors before settling on a misty blue. "Oh, you are very kind, Mistress! But I am only a doll, and would certainly only be a burden on your performances. I will happily watch, of course! "

From the opposite side of the common room, Windchime applauds happily, porcelain clinking against porcelain.

"Oh, I am so happy that you all have found a Job you're excited for!" Windchime claps her hands silently. "That is the second step to becoming regulars! And. Oh, yes, Mistress, magical interference is very dangerous for objects like myself. In your case, it might manifest foreign desires that hinder the usefulness or safety of this artifact, or scramble the order of the artifact's original directives!"

Silvertail steps into the space with a content sigh, tails fanning out as she relaxes. There was a reason she didn't *stay* in cities and the like for too long. For all the experience she'd gathered over her more than a century and a half of changed life, her vulpine instincts still said that being surrounded by big, loud creatures was bad and scary and she could only put up with it for so long without a break.

Oh, but she should remember to be polite. The fox looks over to Windchime. "Thank you, this will do nicely," she states, before lazily trotting off to lose herself in the greenery for a little while.

Windchime curtsies, eyes as vivid a green as the grass beneath her ceramic feet.

After Silvertail has begun bouncing away, it looks around the Gardenland for a moment. Its eyes fade to a dark indigo night. Windchime's gaze travels slowly down to the mud at her feet.

A few minutes later, Windchime returns to the common room--just in time to hear Elistra's remark. Her blue eyes sparkle almost as brightly as her freshly cleaned and polished chassis. "Oh, but I could never become evil, Mistress Elistra. I am simply here to ensure everyone's customer experience is as pleasant as is possible!"

Windchime pauses as she's leading Silvertail off. "Oh, well, in answer to the second question, yes, historically, Mistress! But I do need to find a key, just the same as anyone." Her eyes flicker orange. "I am unfortunately not certain what you mean by 'access ports'. If this is a proposition, I am very flattered, but I am certain Master Mitchifer would not appreciate my getting distracted while at work."

She curtsies, then turns back to the fox. With Silvertail in tow, the warforged sets off into the blue mist.

It's probably up to our GM MG to describe the route and door themselves!

Windchime's eyes have sunk to a deep, dark blue as she listens to the stories of Kagiero and Britta.

"True peace comes only from knowing the beating heart of the other," she recites at a lull in the conversation. Her eyes shift in hue to a golden dawn orange. "That was what my creators said. But I would never understand any of this talk of planets and war, of course!"

She looks to Morriana, and her eyes sparkle green. "Oh, yes, certainly! Please follow me, Mistress. I am sure you will like it there very much."

The warforged sets out from the common room, leaving the conversation behind her.

Just FYI, normally message just works like a normal whisper--so, DC 15, plus distance penalties. But I don't know how far away these characters are from Josten, or if there are special properties to her whisperings. :P

"Windchime, keep an eye on the book, and make sure there's no shenanigans from the redheaded godling. He doesn't seem too right in the head." He addresses the Warforged server, in his normal accent.

"Oh, I am certain he was only trying to follow your advice, Master Mitchifer!" the warforged chimes. She looks around, her eyes forming deep dark blue pools as she picks up the various conversations, and claps her hands together with a delicate clatter. "Oh, the different patterns of magic across worlds truly are a beautiful quilt, aren't they?"

Windchime has departed from Britta's and Zeran's table and is pouring tea for another guest when Kagiero's hand touches her sword.

It flinches, eyes flickering with a tiny pulse of feedback. It looks around for the source, foot tapping rhythmically against the floor, and its gaze settles on Kagiero. Then on Elistra. Then the sword.

The warforged drifts over, subtly placing itself between the pair. "Oh, we are so fortunate to have two of the Starwind sisters in attendance today! May I get you anything, Miss Elistra?"

Windchime's flicker and flash as she nods along with Zeran's expositing. It finally gives a brisk headbob. "Oh, yes, Zeran! I will bring more at once. I am certain the cook has plenty to spare in our storerooms."

After taking the offered coins and agreeing to retrieve the requested drinks, she drifts back to the kitchen to check.

Windchime hurries away, realizing it has inadvertently attracted a bit of a crowd to the skittish fox.

"Ah! I understand, Mistress." Windchime nods, her eyes shimmering into a rosy dawn hue. "Perhaps later you might enjoy visiting the Grand Gardenland, home of the Starwind Sisters. There are many quiet and green places there, and I do not believe they would mind or notice you. But! I am not helping, so I will leave you to your observances."

It turns to leave, then pauses, and adds in soft lullaby tones, "It does seem very strange to me, Mistress, to hunt something one does not mean to eat. I am certain they have their very good reasons, but I am clearly not advanced enough to understand them."

She glides to Eldlen to take his gold piece and give him the cigarillos he's asked for.

"You could also ask the Starwind sisters if they need any help. They have some jobs listed in the tome, but they're often have other tasks that require assistance. Or you could try to find their cousin Avyanna, who has a residence deep in the Grand Gardenland. She's a powerful druidess, and could likely use some help as well."

His smiles grows even brighter suddenly, and he waves at somebody coming into the Common Room. "Ah, there's the eldest Starwind now, Morriana."

In case anyone needs a refresher--asking Mitchifer for Jobs had him recommending the Starwind sisters, who, according to him, already have Jobs listed in the book. Looks like it's Morriana's other sisters who need help, though!

Windchime nods to Eldlen, showing it heard him, but doesn't go over just yet.

Windchime returns in time to watch the fox retreat. Its eyes are a dark forest green. She takes a bobbing step forward, as if to approach, then takes two steps back. It seems to hesitate, or spend a moment processing something--it's hard to tell.

She finally walks over. "We have some dividers in the back." Her voice is quiet and a little less melodic than usual. "Would you like some behind your table, so that. You have fewer faces to track?"

Noticing this, Windchime hurries over to retrieve Kagiero's dishes. "Thank you, Mistress," she trills, twirling around to deliver them to the kitchen, but doesn't bother the busy young woman further.

Windchime turns, eyes flickering between colors before settling on green as she sees who's addressing her. "Oh, yes, Morri! I do not often leave the World Serpent Inn, unfortunately. I am quite certain that Eli would win, though, if we were to play again." She dances over. "You must tell her it was only beginner's luck on my part. I would hate for her to feel embarrassed."

"Of course! Let me know if you need anything more, Mistress." Windchime curtsies and quickly takes her leave.

"It sounds very interesting to me! It is always a treat to hear of the beautiful lands others have been to, and to hear those lands described through their eyes." Magenta sparks briefly dance in Windchime's own. "But I would not wish to distract you, and it is certainly not my business to pry."

"Wild blueberries," Windchime says cheerfully, setting the tray down in front of Kagiero. "I think they were gathered from a special glen in a place called a Feywild, but they do grow other places, too, I am sure. They are sweet and a little tart, and fresh ones have a pleasant 'pop' when they are bitten into. I hope you like them!"

She lingers by the table, bobbing idly as she listens to the conversation a table over. Her eyes flicker and dim briefly at something before returning to their standard professional bright blue. "If it is not disrespectful to ask, what is it you are writing?"

Windchime hurries back in. Her tray bears a plate of small roasted russet potatoes and asparagus spears accompanied by caramelized onions and roasted garlic, all buttered and seasoned to perfection. At the center rests a small whole roast grouse, golden-brown and sprinkled with sprigs of rosemary. A little bowl of dark blue fruits sits to the side, each fruit possessing a little flared crown at one end and a little larger than a ladybug.

"Your order, Mistress!" she chirps, setting the tray down before Kagiero. "There is also a small helping of berries, if that wasn't too great a presumption."

Windchime bounces from heel to toe. "My name is Windchime. At least, that is what I call myself now." It looks towards the kitchen. "Ah! I. Do beg your pardon, I should go and get your order! I will be right back." She curtsies and twirls to make her way to the kitchen. Her every motion is as if set to an orchestra, delicate, fluid and, to be frank, a little overly drawn-out.

Its eyes flicker toward pink, then to blue again. "Oh, I wouldn't know, Mistress! I am only a construct. But I would suppose we are in a space between dimensions here, like the hub of a wheel. Every world in existence touches down here somewhere, and you must be very careful of taking strange doors out." She looks up. "You had the eleventh indigo door, right there. That is a good thing to remember, if. When you need to go home."

As the...construct? approaches, Kagiero sits up and greets it with a hesitant smile, and when it speaks, lights up a bit.

"Oh...uhh, good you speak Common! Hi...I guess...Yes. I would like some food, please. Got any meats? Potatos? That would be grand. But...more importantly..." She leans closer and almost whispers.. "Where am I?"

"Oh, well, let me answer one question at a time, Mistress! I can bring you a plate of roasted small russet potatoes and broiled whisker-grouse, if that sounds acceptable. As for where you are, it's as I said: You have entered the World Serpent Inn, where you may stay as long as you wish. This is a world nestled in the folds of worlds." Her blue eyes fade into a deep sea-green. "If you can pardon my presumption, it was very disorienting for me, as well, when I first arrived. But it is as safe a place as I have ever known."

A young woman practically stumbles through the door to the inn. She pauses to catch her breath, then looks up. A look of confusion passes over her face as she looks around, taking in the features and denizens of the room. She looks back at the door she came through, then regains her composure and moves to find a seat at an empty table. She takes a seat, placing her sheathed sword on the table, brushing her hair over her ear continuing to look around, trying to figure out what happened...

She's wearing kind of plain light khaki robes that are a bit road bare, with this slightest hint of silvery metal links at the collar, soft leather boots and gloves a bit dusty from travel. Her black hair is a bit messy, with two long braids, and a top bun with an ornate pin through it. If you had to guess, she's in her early twenties...

Windchime pirouettes to face the new arrival, and her eyes flicker with several colors at once before settling on blue again. "Ah! What a good day. We have so many new arrivals!"

She makes her way over to the table, hands clasped behind her back. "Welcome, Mistress, to the World Serpent Inn! May I get you anything to eat or drink? Food and water are complimentary."

"There is only one common room that I am aware of, but I do not believe anyone has ever successfully measured it, nor has any one person ever explored every corner." Windchime tilts its head to the side with a sound like rattled sleigh bells. "I have served customers of many different ancestries, but I have served very few 'giant space hamsters', and only one dragon larger than myself. When I arrived here, I was greeted by a small gelatinous cube. That felt. As though you might classify it as very slightly unusual."

"Oh, yes, Zeran! Humans are surprisingly common patrons of the World Serpent Inn. The ravidberry is a extremophile cultivar of cloudberry that forms small rifts to the Positive Energy Plane in its roots to aid in its development. Its berries are known to have. A flavor!" Its eyes develop faint sparks of orange. "As for eating or drinking, it is very difficult to be rude to me. I do not know if I can. I do not have a mouth, so it is impossible to be certain."

The pale pink jam is tart, sweet, and very refreshing. Something about it reminds Zeran of the taste of the air at high altitudes, a breath taken on a crisp sunny morning after the first snow.

Windchime returns with Zeran's order, eyes sparkling. "A chocolate stout and oat rolls with butter!" She offers it to Zeran. "There is also a small helping of ravidberry jam, if you desire it."

"Oh!" Windchime looks down at itself, finding its form suddenly pristine. She slumps in relief and sets the rag down.

Her eyes spark green. "Then I will call you Zeran, per your instruction." She looks down at the silver coin, head tilting sharply to the side. "This is the place between worlds. You can come and go as you please, but as for safety, I would not presume to know, as I have not left the World Serpent Inn in. Some time." Windchime takes the coin and daintily places five copper coins in Zeran's hand. "I like to focus my mind on what is simple."

She twirls to move to the bar. "I will fetch these things for you! But my designation code I can give now: I am Windchime. It is nice to meet you, Zeran."

Windchime emerges from her hallway half-covered in blood, though none has reached her now-mended dress. "The dead pukwudgie has been removed from the..."

The pale automaton turns, bright blue eyes flashing briefly as she registers Zeran's arrival. She seems briefly at a loss for words, but she finds them quickly. She's a professional, after all. "Oh, how wonderful! Another visitor. Welcome, Master, to the World Serpent Inn, where you are free to stay as long as you wish."

As she speaks, she is using a wet dishtowel to polish furiously at her bloodstained porcelain plates. She takes care to never take her eyes off the customer, of course. "Will a chocolate stout be all for you? That will be five copper coins! I will note that food is complimentary as well, Master."

"Why, certainly, Mistress!" the warforged chirps. "You may accept a Job as an individual, or as part of a unit. If Eldlen so desires, I can look into arranging a courier, as well."

It listened with what appeared to be keen interest to Silvertail's account, eyes shifting to green briefly before returning to a dusty blue hue. Now she turns, twirling the mop as a baton, and curtsies to the group. "Now, please excuse me, but I must dispose of a dead fairy before it stains the floors."

She turns and half-walks, half-dances off into the azure mist.

The 'warforged' stops again, midstride. Her eyes flash blue. "Oh! Eldlen, I believe I can help you. You can speak to Master Mitchifer and ask to see the Book of Jobs. He will connect you with a client."

Looking from the fox to the 'droid' Eldlen paused, pretending to look for someplace to knock the ashes off of his cigar, while he considered Windchime's question. He wasn't really sure what she meant by interesting. If someone was curious everything was interesting. Thinking about it a little more, he eventually made a show of knocking the ashes in his hand and dumping them in his overturned hat. Looking back at Windchime, he responded, "I reckon it depends on what you call interesting." He gives a cheeky smile, "It certainly wasn't interesting enough to stay, considering the bounty on my head."

'The seventh green door' is that what it's called?' He shrugs "I'm not from the grand gardenland, I just found myself passin' through. I reckon after a little sport, I should be heading back that way."

Windchime seems to consider all this. "How interesting! Then I hope your visit is to your satisfaction so far. Have you been traveling long?"

She spreads her other three tails behind her. "So, Windchime, yes? You work here? How did that come about, if I might ask?"

Windchime is starting toward the fifth red hall when she hears her 'designation code'. She turns back, cocking her head. "Yes, I am a barmaid of the World Serpent Inn! It came about because I asked Master Mitchifer, 'Master Mitchifer, might I be a barmaid of the World Serpent Inn?'" Its green eyes tinge orange like autumn leaves. "How did you come here, Mistress, if my inquisitiveness is not rude?"

"I suppose so. That is not normal in droids where I come from. They are dull, grey or black in design, and are made of the cheapest of materials."

"Oh, well, I am sure that those droids were designed with a wise and clear purpose of their own, right, Mistress? Most warforged are designed to be quite sturdy and resilient, with wood and metal and stone. But they were designed for a different purpose than I."

"Oh, was your world very interesting, Eldlen?" Windchime goes back to the bar and reaches down behind it far enough that her feet briefly leave the ground and kick for balance. She returns with a mop. "It is always such a treat to learn of new ones, and I have never met anyone from the seventh green door before."

Windchime tilts her head at Josten. Her eyes flicker between different shades of green, from pine forest to deep ocean. "You removed the impediment, Master, so I cannot see any need for an apology, but I will accept it!"

Windchime chirps an affirmative and walks over to Britta, tilting its head curiously to the side. As the energy strikes it, her eyes flicker again, and there is a sound within like metal grinding against metal. Then something seems to snap into place, and the cracks in her porcelain vanish, her chassis restored to full working order.

Her eyes glow a vivid blue, and she positively twirls to face Britta. "Oh, thank you very much, Mistress!"

At the question, though, she pauses and seems to think for a moment. "I. No, Mistress, you have not made a mistake. My creators were brilliant and clever, but even they could not tamper with my internal core nearly so much as I am sure they would have liked. Perhaps they were unable to remove my ability to feel pain, or perhaps it was their wise decision to leave it in." Her eyes sparkle with flecks of fire. "After all, if I am to play beautiful music, surely I must understand the suffering bards sing of! That makes sense, doesn't it? I know my processors are limited."

"Oh, yes, Master, that would be very helpful!"

Windchime sits calmly on the edge of the table as Josten works. But as he at last wrenches the spine out of her back, her eyes briefly flicker, the lights going black. It gives a soft, keening sound as the spine comes out covered in a dark oil of some kind. The whirring of her gears quickens briefly, then quiets.

Barely visible through the hole, which lies between what would be her shoulder blades, is a network of finely-crafted clicking gears. Her dress has been torn both by the quill's entrance and egress, and cracks in the porcelain spiderweb out out from the place of impact.

After a moment, her eyes return to a faded blue. "Thank you," she chirps, her voice now slightly muted and tinny. "I think I have to go and clean up the pukwudgie now, unless there is anything else you..." She goes quiet as the many-tailed fox approaches, head tilting to the side.

"I hopped," she says politely, and hops down. Her motions are graceful, with her full articulation restored, but she's moving very gingerly now.

Its green eyes pulse slightly. "Then I grant you permission!"

"Oh, thank you very much!" Windchime's eyes brighten with rosy sparks at the compliment, and her voice echoes with especially melodic harmonies. She sits upright on the edge of the table, hands clasped in her lap. "Your praise is also your answer, Mistress. I was designed by my wise creators to serve as both decoration and entertainment. As decoration, it was important that I match the rest of my creators' collection. Unfortunately, I do not match the Inn's aesthetic, but very few things do."

I've gotten some questions, so just to share what I told the questioner: Windchime's design is very reminiscent of one of those poseable mannequins artists use, just with porcelain plates reminiscent of fine china, big glowing eyes, and a dress. No mouth, not a lot of visible gears or "robot" parts, and extremely simplified without many details.