At a well-known exchange watering hole . . .


The Exchange

The Exchange

A balding, poorly-shaven excuse for a man stumbles into the bar, bearing the mark of a desperate and defeated human being. His clothes, mere rags, and he smells of stale beer.

"Cayden damn that woman . . ." he mouths, in the tone of a man who sounds like he has let life defeat him. "I just wants ta be left alone, and ta leave me kid alone, but she . . . she just wonts quit."

He saddles himself up to the bar. "I's needs somethin' strong. Vodkas . . . somethin . . ."

Grand Lodge

A tall man in a brown coat walks in. He has dark-brown hair and a stone-faced expression. Beside him is a creature standing seven-foot tall with long mane-like hair and exoskeletal features on his torso and forearms that resemble armor.

The man walks up to the bar and orders a drink. He sits down waiting for it. As he does this the creature stands behind him scanning the bar vigilently.

The Exchange

The balding man silently raises his glass to the newcomer before he downs his shot of Vodka and a curious change seems to come over him.

"Oy that's . . . I's feel . . . weird." He stumbles from his stool and looks around, confused. Despite his obvious inebriation, he seems to have excellent co-ordination, as he always seems to catch himself as he's about to fall over. He drifts closer to the massive creature, when a strange look of comprehension hits his eye.

In a common move, he tactically steps close to the beast, but then, with surprising alacrity, backs off, so fast that the massive creature wouldn't have had time to react even if it wanted to.

Afterwords, the balding man seems . . . sobered up somehow, as if he had flushed all the alcohol from his system, or if he spent it performing that strange manuver.

He looks up at the newcomer with a look of strange concern in his eye. "Oy, wha' was tha'?"

Vincent has just gained a drunken Ki point, and spent it on a 'drunken stumble,' a swift action that allows him to spend a ki point to five-foot-step after he has already five-foot-stepped in a round. This is the first time he has been able to do this.

Grand Lodge

The creature produces an unnatural growl for a moment, yet does not act.

In responce to the antics proceding behind him Joel states "Are you ok? You seem to be a little off balence."

Joel then procedes to turn himself around to face Vincent.

The Exchange

Joel Jodin wrote:

The creature produces an unnatural growl for a moment, yet does not act.

In responce to the antics proceding behind him Joel states "Are you ok? You seem to be a little off balence."

Joel then procedes to turn himself around to face Vincent.

"I's . . . I dunno . . ." Perplexed, the man steps forward to the wall, and throws a flurry of punches, before stepping back. He takes a moment, and repeats this a few times, trying to 'stumble' back, only succeeding on falling down once.

"How'd I . . . wait . . . 's need booze?" Vincent rushes over to the bar and orders a tankard of mead, downing it almost supernaturally fast. He regains his loose, almost drunken stumbling posture.

"Now, wa'ch wha' I does, I thinks iz weird." he tells them an. Again, he moves within 10 feet of the wall. He steps forward tactically, releases a flurry of elbows, then drunkenly stumbles back without loosing his balance or presenting an opening in an instant.

Again, he seems to loose his drunken demeanor.

"'S not just me, righ'? That's . . . that's no' normal. Not in any fights I's ever saw."

What he has done was Five-foot step, full attack, and then use drunken stumble in the same round to get out of reach before his theoretical opponent could counterattack. It is a surprising amount of footwork as normally one cannot take two five-foot-steps in a round. It is certainly a combat maneuver that is rare to see.

Grand Lodge

perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11 Joel
perception: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (17) + 16 = 33 Otherland (the creature)

Otherland stares at Joel. Suddenly Joel's expression becomes akin to a suddenly lit torch.

"I'm no expert in fighting styles but your drunken state seems to have combat advantages. Wheither the advantage is by accident or on purpose though I cannot say."

The Exchange

Joel Jodin wrote:

[dice=perception]1d20+6 Joel

[dice=perception]1d20+16 Otherland (the creature)

Otherland stares at Joel. Suddenly Joel's expression becomes akin to a suddenly lit torch.

"I'm no expert in fighting styles but your drunken state seems to have combat advantages. Wheither the advantage is by accident or on purpose though I cannot say."

The man snorts in a way that seems to say 'just my lot in life.' "Oh, great, I get better at fighting while drunk. She'll have a field day with THAT"

He goes back to the bar and orders another shot of rotgut and downs it fast.

"Oh, where'r me manners?" He extends a hand to the man. Nameses is Vinnie. Vincent Goldheirch. Yeah, a male Goldheirch, we never amount to nothin' I know."

Knowledge (Local or History) DC 18:

The Goldheirch bloodline is a strange one. One of the few 'Kineticist bloodlines' around (the power rarely is inherited). Most women in the family inherit Kineticist powers, but only exceptionally rarely do the men.

"Anywhosits . . . what's with tall, dark, and scary over theres? Yous twos seem to have a thingie goin' on."

Grand Lodge

Joel extends his hand to shake Vincent's "My name is Joel Jodin, Not a famous family name or anything. This guy over here is Otherland, from what I can tell he's an eidolon. I don't know where he comes from, or how I got him but he's here and his pressence has been nothing but beneficial."

Otherland nods in agreement.

"Seems like you're not to proud to be in your family. Can't say I know too much about it. Without my seneschal I'm not too well versed in the families of absalom."Joel takes a sip of his tea before continuing."But you're not the only one who's not happy to be in his family right now. My parents were murdered by a bizarre creature during my time in the pathfinder society and my brother blames me for not being there to protect them. From his decription of the creature if I had stayed I would have been just as ready for it as he was." as Joel states this Otherland hums a low unnatural growling sound.

The Exchange

A ring of the bell over the entrance signals a new person arriving. But instead, all you can see are two barrels, one stacked on the other, being wheeled in. A man from what you can hear shouts. "Hey! Vinny! Got the beer ya wanted." He continues to wheel the barrels over to the bar and sets it down. "Two hard liquor barrels as you ordered, covered and chilled. As ya wanted it." He hands a few sheets of paper to the barkeep. "Now, what else do ya want to order from our suppliers? There's some interesting stuff from Tien Xia made from rice. Or maybe some dwarf stout. Or maybe-"

He peers on the other side of the barrels and sees the two people at the bar. "Ah, sorry, didn' see ya there" He shifts the barrels closer to the back of the bar and walks around. He is clearly a half-elf of Varisian decent. "Tha name's Varis. Alchemist by trade, and brewer in my off time." He offers his hand out to shake.

The Exchange

The man wheels to address the newcomer.
"Wha- Bu- I didn't order any . . . I make my . . . oooooh"

With a sudden look of comprehension, he grabs a clean shot glass from behind the counter and moves over to the stack of barrels and crack's the first one open. He dips the glass in and tastes it.

"Blegh . . . Varis, you alchemists . . . your an alchemist right? You may know the ingredients in booze, but you sure don't know how to make it taste good. I wouldn't drink that."

Bluff: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (7) - 2 = 5

Sense Motive DC 5:
Vincent is lying . . . poorly. Though he does think the alchohol could be better flavored, he'd certainly drink it. Also, he's putting on a show for some reason.

"Listen, maybe we can sell it as a cleaning solvent . . . or paint thinner. Go down to the docks, I know a guy, his name's Frankie. He's my son. He'll help get you squared away."

He then leans in close to Varis.

Perception DC 25, Varis automatically succeeds:
In a whisper: "Guaril Karela got you runnin' the ol' 'solvent switcheroo' into Chelliax? I know the drill, pass this stuff off as cleaning solvent to avoid the alcohol tax, then sell it in Chelliax. Used to run it back in the day. Be careful, and keep a look out. Guaril will get back to you with your cut after the shipment's been sold."

He turns back to Joel:
"So yah don't know the Goldheirch's eh? Better off. My sister's a. . .a . . . y'know, I dun't think there's been a curse invented that's strong enough to describe her. Always goin' on how she was caryin' on the family tradition by bein' a Keneticist, and how I was a good-for-nothing waste of space, who only existed to have a daughter to carry on the family line.

"Sorry to hear about your parents. Sounds like at least you had a good childhood, so cherish that. An' hey, if what's yous says is true, count your starses you weren't there, or sounds like you woulda ended up monster chows. Now you can work on gettin' stronger and maybe take out that beastie some day."

P.S. Varis, sorry to throw you under the bus like that, but since my character makes his own booze (he has +12 to profession-Brewer) I couldn't think of another a reason I'd order that. Thanks for trying to role-play though, and feel free to stay and RP with us if you want.

The Exchange

"Eyeh? Ya didn' order any." Varis thumbs over his shoulder to the barkeep. "He did. Now I am pretty sure that you're not offending the nice proper owner here, are ya? And not my own personal work either."

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 1 = 14

He could clearly tell the drunkard was fibbing. He simply shrugs and leans over to him.

Perception 25:
"Na man. Just a simple sale. Nothing like that right now. Maybe later though. But just recently been to Tamran to help our good friend Guaril Karela with some shipments though."

He taps Vincent on his shoulders. "Eh, A Goldheirch? Tha' name sounds familiar. But I don' keep track of the local news. But... Sis a b~!!%? Only thinking about breeding and Bloodlines and some such. Ya... Such a woman would have tha name, right and proper." Varis nods, gestures to the barkeep who produces three large tankards. "Well. Tis easy ta forget. Better to have a bit of fun instead." He picks up one of the tankards and dunks it into a cask. "Now, I don' know about ya, but tis is some strong, hard stuff. Here, drink up." He chuckles a bit and passes Vincent the full tankard. "Had some... Family assist me in making this stuff. Lemme add one final addition." He pulls out a couple vials and shakes them a bit before mixing.

Craft Alchemy: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (8) + 11 = 19

Which makes the liquid fizzle and pop when he adds it to the tankard.

The Exchange

"Oh, um, apologies." the shamed drunkard sits back down and takes a sip of the brew. He raises an eyebrow at it for a moment, before taking a longer sip. Then he starts up again, as if he hadn't just been embarrassed in front of the bar.

"Y'rses wrong you know. Ma sister . . . sheses nots someone youse can forgets. Devil of a woman. She . . . sheses doesn't cares about no bloodlineses or nots. If youse related, a woman, and a kine-keenet, if youse can throw elements around, thatses all she cares about. If youses a man, alls yous good fo' is gettin' someones knocked up and havin'ses a girl. Me boy, me Frankie, he'sis a Kine-Keenet . . . he can shoot fire like she shoots cold, and shes calls him an abomination.

"Only boys shes ever cared abouts were her husbands, Cayden rest his soul, and her boy Joey, who's an okays kid, but she's gotses a real blinds spot for him. Every other male in the family? Trash. Oh, shes used to torments me when wes was kids, still does, actually."

Vinnie goes back to his drink.

"Says, this stuffs you added ain't halfs bad. You mind sellins it? I's got a brewery up in tha rivers kingdomses."

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