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"Menas! The place thrives!"
Magnus greets the blonde-haired newcomer with a Pathfinder's emblem.
"Welcome fellow Pathfinder!"
"Menas, I told two visions of my past, one where I my family were fun and interesting traveling entertainers, and one where my family was a degenerate bunch of inbred flesh-peddlers. Magnus picked the latter as true. He thinks my Baba would have let my Da prostitute me," she laments.
Menas grins widely and Violca. "Fear not my dear, anyone who knows your father - knows he had more business sense than that.
Quickly ducking and moving to his position behind the bar, he starts taking orders with a wide grin. Carefully observing various patrons for different levels of intoxication.
"Whether I think it true or not, I will say the last one does stir the mind and engages one's ear more. After all - Conflict! - is the essence of creativity and change! Aye! This comes from one whose father whored him out to Death!"
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"Then why do you keep your title? I'm assuming it comes from your clan, of course. And he's right, most adventurers I've met are running from or toward something. A friend of mine escaped a forced marriage and a life as a blacksmith, though he currently supplies both our weaponry. Another lives on the roof of the Lodge in Absalom!" After finishing his ale, he pats Magnus on the back "though I must say, my friend: you have good taste."
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"Agreed. Must have been all the drink I had before here. Had some Alchemist's kindness before I went in. You're mcuh too pretty to be inbred."
Diplomacy Check
16+7=23
Violca wastes only a brief glare at Menas before focussing on Kyros.
"Thank you for soothing my pride, sweatheart," she almost purrs. Raising her voice she adds, "Some people just don't appreciate me."
Turning then to Magnus, she continues, "For a bit of truth in the matter, I won't say that my childhood was all rainbows and sunshine, but I had a good Da, and my Baba was a force to be reckoned with. While I won't deny that some of the women in our troupe provided some more exotic entertainment, my Da would never have made anyone do anything they didn't want, and my Baba wouldn't have let him if he tried."
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"A flower in a bed of twigs... no offense, but you never seemed the type of man for poetry, Magnus. And Ms. Grey, your parents seemed like wonderful people. I always said my Dad taught me Martial skills and my mom horseback riding, but in truth I once saw my mother take down a mountain troll, and my dad was the best rider I ever saw."
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"A flower in a bed of twigs... no offense, but you never seemed the type of man for poetry, Magnus.
"Poetry? Bah!" Magnus waves his hand dismissively. "When ye got nothin' to do but to guard 'em, lad, ye be amazed at the words ears stumble upon hearin' them nobles yammerin'. Everytime the women of the south see me, they go the other way. But if what-ya-call-is poetry gets me some southern ass without payin' for it, then so it be it!"
"And my tale isn't much to tell. MY family (on my Grandfather's side) were among the founders of the Society. Me and my brother are simply the latest in the Deun line to enter the society.
"Then I drink to them! The Society's been good to me, aye. It was the society that got me into the Longaxes. With all the coin I hoarded from my missions, I tell them what shiny things I want and the Society gets me it. Don't know how, but they always come through. The Society even said that in my next two tasks, they will get me my own ship! A man cannot complain."
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"A man cannot complain when he is captain of his own vessel. I myself are relatively green, but I still have quite a stockpile of gold myself."
if poetry gets me some soft ass without payin' for it, then so it be it!"
"You're correct, trust me, but I reccomend if you wish to Pretend Marry the lovely Ms. Grey (winks) you nto let her know of such a thing."
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Ms. Grey, your parents seemed like wonderful people
"Darling, you needn't call me Miss Grey. Violca's the name I was given and I like hearing it. Also, you might be a tad confused on Varisian tradition. My mother is a story for another day, but Baba is Varisian for grandmother." Violca grins like a fox, "Have you never heard the tales of Baba Yaga?"
Everytime the women of the south see me, they go the other way. But if what-ya-call-is poetry gets me some southern ass without payin' for it, then so it be it!"[/b]
"As for you, Magnus, is that your game? You're being poetic and romantic so you can bed me free instead of paying another for your nightly company?"
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"Nah, us northmen got no game."
He muses for a moment. "Actually, we do. If ya count bonking women over the head with a club and taking them afterwards. That does take skill."
"I want Violca as my pretend wife! So I can boast to my Ulfen brethren and say, "Look! I got me the best in Magnimar as wife!" Then they will say, "Wo! How much you paid for her?!" And I will look them in the eye and swear it on my Ulfen honor and say "Why do wayfinders always point north? Of course nothing! Just like what is left in your coin purse! Ha! Ya thrice-fooled idjiots."
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"Aw, that's sweet Magnus," Violca replies as she refills his mug. She leans a hip on the bar and snags her wine glass from the shelf behind her.
"And, yes Kyros, that's the Baba Yaga I mean. No relation to my Baba of course, but I heard tales of her a million times over.
"Baba Yaga the Arch-Crone, the Bone Mother, the wild and untamable, the nature spirit bringing wisdom and death of ego, and through death, rebirth."
Violca sighs with a little shiver. "It's enough to make a chill run down your spine."
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"Aw, that's sweet Magnus," Violca replies as she refills his mug. She leans a hip on the bar and snags her wine glass from the shelf behind her.
"Wait til I bathe at the Heidmarch's and shave. I'll be sweeter," he grins, raises the tankard in toast to her and takes a swig. As she leans over, he gives her a complementary Ulfen-style bar-wench slap on the ass.
Magnus listens to the talk about Baba Yaga. The subject matter about Baba Yaga and the white witches of Irrisen sends a slight chill up his spine and he gets melancholic. Bad blood between Irrisen and his homeland...
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As she leans over, he gives her a complementary Ulfen-style bar-wench slap on the ass.
Violca drifts out from behind the bar to stand beside Magnus. She reaches out with one hand and uncurls his fingers from his tankard one by one, holding his hand in her own. She smiles and leans in close to himm and whispers in seductively in his ear.
"If you ever touch me again without my permission, I will castrate you." And with a flick of the wrist she snatches up his tankard and splashes the remain Vjarik in his face. She flits across the room to the stage before he can clear his eyes.
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Menas frowns nervously, glancing between Violca and Magnus. Magnus, my boon companion, the gracious drunken lord enjoys a fine time as much as any. But - I'd caution you to know your limits with the drink and with Violca. That is one fire filled lady - and you do not want her on your bad side.... particularly after what we saw in Jalmeray. If you are lucky she'll cool off. If your unlucky - you've just made an enemy for life.
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"A bowl of food and ale for him would be great. But i am sure that the rest of the bar would be unhappy if i was to monopolize your time with a drink. Besides It seems that it's the dancing that everyone, including me wants to see.""Hello there, newcomer and razortusk! I'm afraid today, the roles seems to be switched! The fair lady is the bartender and I am the entertainer. I can dance for you!" greets Magnus mildly inebriated by now.
Magnus motions the fiddler to play a tune. He awkwardly shakes his hips. With his wide girth, it might as well be a polar bear with a hula hoop.
He plants a foot on a stool in front of Leon and flashes his thunder thighs and wiggles his ass.
Perform: 1d20
(Leon shields his face from the grotesque display in front of him.)
"Magnus I take it, I'm an not very familiar with your heritage and it's custom's, so i will refrain from commenting on your very strange habits. I would much prefer the fairer sex of species to dance."
(Leon moves over to his table and sets down his meal. As well as giving Bacon his portion. He sits down and smiles/laughs at the big Ulfen.)
"It seems that i am in for a good time tonight, after all the traveling i have been doing lately. It is time to recuperate and rejuvenate. My Half Brother Bourne would so enjoy this place."
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Violca takes a position centre stage and begins a story of the witch Baba Yaga. She tells the story of Vasilissa the Beautiful.
Vasilass was a young girl seeking vengeance against an abusive husband of a forced marriage. The girl went to Baba Yaga in desperation after no other would help her. The witch brewed a potion out of the heart of a rabbit for Vasilissa to drink and told the girl that it would make her strong enough to overpower her husband.
Vasilissa drank the potion but it was a poison that killed her in an instant. From her body, her spirit arose. It flew back to her village in the dead of night and the next morning her husband was found dead with his face contorted in fear and terror.
Now legend says that a slighted woman may stand on a hill at midnight and call out the spirit of Vasilissa the Beautiful by eating the heart of a rabbit to seek vegeance on her behalf.
Perform Storytelling
The story draw to a chilling close, leaving the bar in an eerie quiet. The silence is abruptly broken by the Varisian fiddler in the corner letting out a cackling laugh. He croaks something in Varisian and strikes up his fiddle. With a bow to him, Violca begins dancing, a smile lighting her face once more.
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Menas frowns nervously, glancing between Violca and Magnus. Magnus, my boon companion, the gracious drunken lord enjoys a fine time as much as any. But - I'd caution you to know your limits with the drink and with Violca. That is one fire filled lady - and you do not want her on your bad side.... particularly after what we saw in Jalmeray. If you are lucky she'll cool off. If your unlucky - you've just made an enemy for life.
Magnus, face, moustache and beard, drenched in Vjarik bawls out in laughter. "The lass got spirit I'd give ya that!"
Then he realizes something, and beckons Menas to come closer.
"Ahhhhh! When you can, explain to her, if you will, in the north and even in the grand alehouse in Oppara...A slap to rear is how the Ulfen express gratitude for service. So think nothing ill of it. A bar-maid working in our ale lodges must have thick-skin, not to mention a thick behind!"
"Now, as we spoke earlier on business..." he continues.
"If ye want me to transport Vjarik from the homelands on me ship, it means more Ulfen will come. More Ulfen with loose coin, means more coin in ye pockets and more praise to your Drunken God with a full house. And make certain to have bar-maids with some thick asses."
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The story draw to a chilling close, leaving the bar in an eerie quiet. The silence is abruptly broken by the Varisian fiddler in the corner letting out a cackling laugh. He croaks something in Varisian and strikes up his fiddle. With a bow to him, Violca begins dancing, a smile lighting her face once more.
As the tale ends, Magnus breaks the silence as he bellows out "Damn woman! I show you gratitude and you repay me in kind with threats and kill my spirits! Bah...!" and brushes at the air in anger.
He mutters something in Skald before turning his attention back to Menas.
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He mutters something in Skald before turning his attention back to Menas.
Linguistics
"I need no rabbit heart to punish you, Magnus," Violca calls with a grin as she catches hold of Kyros and pulls him into the dance with her. She spins and twirls to the fiddlers tune, tipping her head back to laugh exultingly.
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Still laughing, Violca tumbles out of the dance, catching her breath.
"Don't pout sweetheart, it doesn't become you," she coos as she drops into the seat beside Magnus with a swish of her skirts. "It may be an Ulfen compliment, but I'm a Varisian and my body's my own to do with as I will. I don't mind a wink and a leer, but I'll not have touches that I don't explicitly ask for. I'm sure you can understand that." She gives Magnus a soft smile.
Violca reaches over behind the bar and snags the damp cloth kept there for spills.
"Here, let's clean you up a little and make our peace," she says as she begins mopping some of the alcohol from his face. "I'll promise not to threaten your manhood and you can promise not to touch me unless I say you can. Fair enough?"
She holds out her hand for the mugs she knows Menas will have poured, a light ale for her and more Vjarik for Magnus.
"Oh, Menas, the lovely Ulfen man at table three is buying for the night." The ruby from earlier appears in her hand with a snap of her fingers and she tosses it to the bartender.
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Violca's laughter continues to lift the air. Magnus continues sulking not acknowledging her presence as she takes seat next to him.
As she begins mopping his face...
"Wha? Wo! What is this?! Hey! Hey! No touching in this tavern! Everytime you touch me, you must pay me."
Feels a dab...
"That's one copper..."
Feels another dab...
"That's one silver..."
"My! At this rate, ya gonna be broke before your tipout. Two can play at that game, Aye?"
Violca can swear she saw a smile creak somewhere on his dour visage.
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As she begins mopping his face...
"Wha? Wo! What is this?! Hey! Hey! No touching in this tavern! Everytime you touch me, you must pay me."
[...]
Violca can swear she saw a smile creak somewhere on his dour visage.
Violca giggles and presses the new tankard of Vjarik into his hands. She gives a last teasing swipe of the cloth over his nose.
"Then you can wash the rest off in the rain barrel outside," retorts playfully.
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Shakes his head and jerks a thumb towards the ironbound pitted keg of Vjarik. Fill your mug fine and it's free. I'm done touching that stuff. They use it to ward of bandits you know! And those two? Since about an hour after we opened - but honestly - it is starting to feel like days. The young bartender leans back against the wall and squints out the window. "Looks like the night rush will be comin' soon. Magnus! How much longer you in town for?
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Violca giggles and presses the new tankard of Vjarik into his hands. She gives a last teasing swipe of the cloth over his nose.
"Then you can wash the rest off in the rain barrel outside," retorts playfully.
"Hey Violca! A question!" He clears his throat, sounding all genteel like (but obviously a bad impression)."I am requesting permission to touch you!"
Magnus! How much longer you in town for?
"Until the sun rises on the morrow. Then duty calls. So what say you about my plans with importing Vjarik?"
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"Thanks you my good man." Kyros throws a gold into the tip jar and fills up a modest mug. "I myself have been in a few of these places before, but never in Magnimar. First time I went into the city, I nearly died three times. When I went into a Cailean temple, I won a drinking contest and a bottle of fine brandy." He pulls out said bottle and hands it over to Menas. "What's say we all have a toast?"
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Nods with a grin, filling up a mug of his own. He raises it high and thinks for a second. He fills a second mug and pass it and the brandy back to Kyros. Sniffing it a for a second.
"Riddleport make? - If it was from a temple to The Drunken Lord - I'd say the Publican House. They do make good brandy! What shall we toast to? Magnimar not killing any of us - yet?
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"Hey Violca! A question!" He clears his throat, sounding all genteel like (but obviously a bad impression)."I am requesting permission to touch you!"
Violca flutters one hand in front of her face like blushing lady and extends the other hand in front of her, palm down.
"Sir may kiss my hand," she drawls, mimicking a similar genteel tone, "but he'll be needin' my daddy's permission if'n he intends to court me."
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"Sir may kiss my hand," she drawls, mimicking a similar genteel tone, "but he'll be needin' my daddy's permission if'n he intends to court me."
Magnus kisses his fingertip and cautiously touches it to the back of her hand. Quickly pulls it back like a cat wetting it's paw.
"There. You've been touched. Now go ask your daddy."
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I did not because I am more than human. I am Ulfen." he pauses to drain his mug of Vjarik. "Death can not claim a true Ulfen eaily.
Magnus nods and raises his mug.
"Aye. I drink to that. This to being Ulfen!" He drains his Vjarik.
Upon hearing Urai's account with Sheila Heidmarch, Magnus shakes his head.
"I have no quarrel with the Heidmarch's. Everytime I come to Magnimar, they provide the best lodgings. But I cannot fault you, brother, for your grievance. No man or woman's whims is worth the lives of four men."
Magnus scoffs.
"Four men...Five deaths."
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"it's possible Magnus, considering the amount of times I've dodged death. I'd drink to being Ulfen, but I feel I'd insult you. I only believe your comrades are your friends because I belong to a small sub-faction in the Grand Lodge. Nothing serious, but I tend to see a select group of people in my adventures."