What's new
  • This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.

Rubies of Eventide IC Thread (D&D 5e)

Dice System
D&D 5e
OOC
Here
Characters
Here
Other
Here

Thanny

The Destined Undestined
The Rubies of Eventide are a myth, understand, a fiction. It had been reported aeons ago by credible local sources -- Ophala of Neverwinter, Rorsh of Amn, Ethalian Demotre of the Red Wizards of Thay, and many more -- that the maker of these so-called enchanted gemstones had died after making these gemstones and scattered them as a last wish. Why would he do such a thing? If he could make them and recognise them as dangerous, as the legends say they are, surely he could unmake them. But no, the legend persists, relics of a bygone magical era that have no business in this new age, not if it were real, not if it were fiction. Fiction or no, however, the powers they hold still attract attention from lords and power seekers. Who knows if they had been gathered already, biding their time to unleash something upon the world? Two thousand years may be a few lifetimes for elves, but are still plenty of time to lose what is lost or what had never existed. Perhaps the world will never know.

-- Anonymous, DR 3250, on the entreaty to call off archeaological searches near the Great Cities of the Northwest.


Part 0

The morning rains that descended on Yartar had subsided and drifted to the east, already squeezed of much of their supply of water before doing so. Outside, people started to stir. Inside, people started to move out. Rain was heavy in these parts, summer giving its usual boons from the Sea of Swords in the favour of bountiful harvests that became the norm, but it still made people who were not farmers complain. Adventurers were such people, and quite a number of them grumbled into their tankards, bowls, and mugs about the irritation that the rains gave them. They truthfully did not have much to complain about, as most lone wolves out there had come here, to this tavern, from clear across the city through the onslaught of rain droplets to complain about the onslaught of rain droplets to one another, but it passed the time.

The X's are places where you can insert your characters; you can have them enter from the left or the top through the blue doors.

1624762630427.png

The X's are places where you can insert your characters; you can have them enter from the left or the top through the blue doors.


The Twin Hooked Moons, as the tavern was called, was a hotspot for those of the adventuring kind, new and old alike. Some had frequented this place for a fine pint of ale or a shot of applejack or three distilled from local producers, while others nursed weaker drinks such as a fine mead or, some, boiled tea leaves. Shadows draped over the tables in the form of soft curtains, softening words to ensure a quiet drink with private conversation. But there were still those who gathered, in search of something new with a strange, unknown soul who had the spark of adventure, or perhaps just someone to vent to regarding how bad their orc hunt had gone near the ruins of Old Owl Well, deep into the untamed regions between Neverwinter and Waterdeep, east of the Mere of Dead Men.

A number of people are seated here, or are to later come --

The biting image of a glaring follower of a draconic deity, his dragon-like silver horns and scales glistening in the dimmed light ( Sherwood Sherwood ),
the resplendent but scarred human beauty who has only recently taken up the mug after being forced into military leave by her sisters in arms ( jaydude jaydude ),
the wayward elven priestess turned healer, staring down into her drink as if deep into the ocean of her sagacious mind ( Psychie Psychie ),
the wily businessman and an even shrewder human adventurer who delves into the furthest recesses of caves and finding at least something of note ( Shadeofshade Shadeofshade ),
the curious gnoll who dresses as if he were a man of the sea, his contagious flair for excitement and daring-do enrapturing audiences ( D. Rex D. Rex ),
the bright-eyed owlfolk who flicks her viewpoint with a cunning few can muster and a persuasion few can back down from ( Felis Felis ),
and one shrouded in mystery, whose eyes dart out of what appears to be a hood or perhaps a shroud, eager for the start of some manner of intrigue ( grimmmy grimmmy ).

Some seem to know each other and have previously been seen together, while others remain a mystery to each other. However, all of these new and seemingly unrelated individuals have a common goal yet to be shared. This is their story, and a story about you.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

The bartender, Hubert Bloodoak and proud owner of this establishment, wiped away at a well-polished glass, not because it was dirty or needed drying, but because he had a role to fulfill, and that role was to be busy even when there was not a crowd. He played around with the hair tufted around his ears, in his ears, around his nose, and thankfully NOT in his nose and sighed heavily at the lack of profit he expected from the slow period caused by rains. The tavern was not nearly as full as it used to be. Nowadays the job boards have been filled by some guild-bought individual, the local lords and ladies penalising the average individual by 20% for not being within their lists of calls, or unrecognised individuals being spat upon by newcomers and veterans alike for not having enough gold for which to wade through sewers. Word of mouth has been clients' preferred method of communicating, and what was to come was no exception.

He looked over to some of his esteemed customers: Ychera, the glittering jewel of monster-slaying around these parts, and according to hearsay a demihuman; Isayri, the gnomish tinkerer and local artisan of many a magical trinket; Sapphique the Water Genasi, an amazing gatherer of information who seems to have had connections with the underground spy networks of local lords and lesser men (not that he wanted to bother him or his affiliates because he made a fine amount of coinage from him); and Smallmouth the dragonborn, who seemed to know every questgiver in these parts within three miles of town and was a bit of a chatterbox while he was at it. They all seemed, if not entertained by newcomers, relieved that they had some peace and quiet with the exception of Smallmouth.

Sighing again, he returned his gaze to the glass, hoping for something to break him free from the arresting grasp of boredom. Perhaps local chatter from those at the bar would instigate conversation from him.

((Feel free to post anywhere, from just before entering to barely entering to being in the bar for a period of time. The world is your oyster. Let me know if stuck or needing work.))
 
Last edited:

Psychie

Princess Psychie
Athaclenna comes into the tavern, feeling like a drowned rat from all the rain that had come down earlier in the day. Her worn travelers' cloak is quite sodden, and she is quite ready to sit down in front of a fireplace and try and dry out. She glances over at Toryk, wondering how it is possible for one creature to smell of wet dog soooo much. Athaclenna doesn't say anything; she'll save that gem for later when she is getting ribbed by the gnoll, and is in need of some witty retort. After all, its what friends do to keep the miles on the road from getting dull.

Seeing a pair of vacant seats by the fireplace, she points over to them. "There. Two chairs that will let us rest our tired feet. Lets claim them so we can hoist a few while we dry out in front of the fire." The elf makes her way through the tavern to the aforementioned seats and drapes her cloak over one, feeling a great sense of relief to get it off of her. Now that her cloak is off, observers can see that the lady elf is dressed in a suit of half plate armor with a shield on her arm, and has a sword and bow as accessories to her outfit. To wrap it all up, she is wearing a holy symbol of one of the many elven gods, marking her as at least making the claim of being pious.

Once Athaclenna has finished draping her cloak over the chair and has set her backpack on the floor next to it, she looks around to see if there is a server waiting tables, or if she has to go place her order at the bar to get a drink and a hot meal.
 

jaydude

Four Thousand Club
Jalana had soon found herself taking a liking to alcohol, as long as it was enjoyed in moderation. For one thing, it helped dull the mild but irritating pain in her head that had been a constant companion ever since that orc's greataxe had struck her. For another, it provided an emotional booster that the warrior very much needed after she had effectively been ditched here by the Steel Sisters, some of whom she'd travelled and fought besides for years. Not that it had taken them long to insist she take a break.

At present she was sat at the right end of the bar (Location #1), her greatsword and maul both on her back, her pack by her side and a half-finished tankard of beer in front of her. Thus, she was one of the first people to see Toryk and Athaclenna enter the bar area from the coatroom. Her eyes were drawn to the gnoll first, unused as she was to seeing one clad in the trappings of civilization and not being violent, before they turned to the elf. Light blonde hair of a shade she found pleasing to look at, armour of the kind worn by those who considered a full suit of platemail like Jalana's too heavy for everyday use, and what was presumably a symbol of of one of her gods. Jalana could probably have recalled which one it represented, but delving that deep into her memory increased the pain in the head these days, even with alcohol.

So instead, she settled for lifting her head and giving Athaclenna a friendly smile that bordered on flirtatious, before turning back to her tankard. Once she'd finished it, she decided, she'd start looking for work.

Mentions:
D. Rex D. Rex Psychie Psychie
 
Last edited:

D. Rex

Magic Eight Ball
[Location x5, with Athaclenna]


Toryk still looked every bit of a sailor. From dark woolen breeches that came down to just below his knees to his loose white linen shirt. Both faded by sun and saltwater. Red brigandine vest was open, to help his fur and shirt dry,and a bright yellow sash held up his britches. A belt, too, hung loosely on his hips. On that was the scabbard of a saber, whose brass hilt was brushed and scuff with years of use. Several daggers. A few pouches and a hand crossbow that was folded and ready to be used at a moments notice.

Yes. He looked every bit a sailor. Most might think he was fresh off a trade ship coming from Waterdeep. Well... with him being gnoll and a the copious amount of weapons he carried, it was much easier to tell exactly what sort of sailor he was. A pirate. Not that anybody here had any proof. His territory had been the Sword Coast, not the rivers.


And not that he had been doing any stealing lately either! Not that he hadn't wanted too. But he was trying to do right by his elven companion. And what a blessing she was, even if she did nag when ever he had a naughty idea. You see, gnolls don't like being alone. They are social creatures through and through. After so many years of being away from a full tribe of gnolls, non-gnolls were a good pack as any. Sure, lots of bad things could be said about gnolls. Many of them true. But not many knew that once you made a gnoll friend, you would be hard pressed to find a more faithful or loyal bond. Even if they had strange ways of showing sometimes. This gave to a greater weight on the pain of betrayal.

Betrayal. That was why he was here. Revenge against a tribemate. Not just from the pirate crew they served together, but they had come from the same tribe. A twofold bond! Toryk would have his revenge.... but not today it seemed.

Three days. They were three days late. From word at the docks, the ship had already moved on. Sadly, he didn't know where. East, west, or North. He was hoping to find some information in Yartar.

So staying a day would not be such a bad idea. Besides, he didn't want to run his elf to death. The poor dear was soaked, and she didn't even have fur to keep her warm. He might need to buy her some lest she get a cold. Rabbit fur was nice and soft. Yes. With the leather oiled to keep her dry. He didn't have the heart to tell her that she smelled like wet human. All the hairless races did when wet. Except for dwarves for some reason. Still, he wouldn't hold her handicaps against her.


Toryk dropped his rucksack down and sat beside her. Letting her have the chair closest to the fire before she caught the chill. He didn't mind, his ring kept him nice and toasty inside.

Thanny Thanny "Barkeep! Warm ales. Food if ye got it." He demanded. His teeth were bared intimidatingly and his voice firm. Gnolls always strange bunch there. Making demands more often than asking questions, testing dominance was common manners after all. But such was how they talked. And he was giving his best grin to show he was being nice.

Fishing in his pocket, he took out three pieces of gold and slapped them on the table to better speak the language of comfortably seedy taverns. "Aye, fill us up." His voice quickly going from firm to jaunty.




Finally he had the chance to sit back and look around at some of the other patrons. "Oh, lookie there, Atha. The pinky be making the eyes at you, don't she? Can't be going nowhere without you being the popular one." He laughed. jaydude jaydude
 

Shadeofshade

Senior Member
Wearing his travel cloths over his studded armor, his Rapier at his hip along side a pouch containing 100 copper coins and another pouch containing a platinum coin and 7 gold coins in an inner pocket, Phectty ride along on his carriage pulled by two of his horses, Samantha and Dante, while his other two horses, Cassandra and Virgil, were being pulled from behind, all while in the rain. As he was trundling along, he spotted the tavern and decided to stop for a bit.

Phectty pulled his carriage to just next to the chimney, pulled out the 4 buckets and 1 lb. of Wheat, split the wheat between the 4 buckets, placed 2 in the front and 2 in the back, guided all 4 horses so that they are mostly in the carriage, taking the blankets and placing them on the horses and then head into the Tavern via the Coatroom.

As soon as Phectty entered the Tavern and closed the door, he heard someone say, "Oh, lookie there, Atha. The pinky be making the eyes at you, don't she? Can't be going nowhere without you being the popular one." All he could do was smile. The one who spoke sounded like a sociable but blunt and upfront person.

As Phectty walked into the bar room, he decided to place his traveller's cloak down at the window seat next to the stairs and other door. With the table and chair now claimed he walked up to the bar and asked the bartender, “Excuse me, good sir, but might I please know what the prices are for some food and something non-alcoholic please?”

(choosing to settle at X9 but walked up to X2 to ask his question)
 

Felis

Meow?

Location: between X (2) and X (3)? (X (2) once the space is free)
Interaction: jaydude jaydude (Jalana), Shadeofshade Shadeofshade (Phectty)

Ivvie shook her head forcefully as she let the tavern front door fall shut behind her, though it was her clothes rather than her feathers that were soaked. Rain without a thunderstorm always left her with a vague sense something was missing. Yartar itself seemed exciting, though. Lots of travelers and traders were good opportunities - a stream of changing faces meant a stream of possible income, with a lower chance she had to leave town before she wanted to. Maybe it was even a good place to start something larger than her go-to sleight-of-hand tricks.

At the moment, however, Ivvie was still weighing her options. Setting up a longer con would be fun, but so would other things. In her experience, taverns like these attracted interesting people, and interesting people tended to pursue interesting goals, too. The city would still be here later, if something else caught her attention.

As she stepped further into the taproom, Ivvie let her eyes wander over the tables. Who was the most intriguing one here? The elf and gnoll pair certainly made for an unusual sight, but what about the customers further in the back? And yet, there was also something about the human sitting at the bar with her back turned to Ivvie. Curious. People in armor tended to look mostly the same to her, but... Hm. Usually, if she couldn't decide whom to approach, the barkeep was a good compromise, but he was busy with another guest at the bar, so the woman at the bar it was.

As Ivvie got a closer look at the woman's face, she could place a finger on her earlier feeling - she recognized her! And it was even a pleasant surprise, in that it wasn't someone she had fleeced before. In fact, the acquaintance was from before she had had reason to worry about such a thing. That alone was unusual enough that it had made coming here worthwhile, she supposed.

"I can almost not believe the coincidence, but I do believe we know each other," Ivvie chimed up brightly, bobbing up and down a foot with the help of her wings to make herself more visible. "It's been ages, half-a-lifetime ages! Ivvie, in case that still rings a bell? It must be close to two years soon, so I wouldn't fault you." The truth was, Ivvie wasn't sure if she remembered Jamala's? no, Jalana's? name correctly herself, but she'd be damned if she admitted that. "How goes your work and - wait, let me get a seat!"

Ivvie dove towards the barstool half hidden behind the man placing an order, and pulled it closer to hopefully-really-Jalana's with what she considered an acceptably low amount of bumping into anyone or anything, considering the stool was as about tall as she was. She flashed the man an apologetic yet cheerful look just in case before she turned back to her acquaintance.
 

jaydude

Four Thousand Club
Finally he had the chance to sit back and look around at some of the other patrons. "Oh, lookie there, Atha. The pinky be making the eyes at you, don't she? Can't be going nowhere without you being the popular one." He laughed. jaydude jaydude
Jalana turned and raised an eyebrow at the gnoll at that comment, as if silently asking if he'd noticed that her skin was quite possibly the furthest thing from pink, before returning her attention to her drink.

As soon as Phectty entered the Tavern and closed the door, he heard someone say, "Oh, lookie there, Atha. The pinky be making the eyes at you, don't she? Can't be going nowhere without you being the popular one." All he could do was smile. The one who spoke sounded like a sociable but blunt and upfront person.

As Phectty walked into the bar room, he decided to place his traveller's cloak down at the window seat next to the stairs and other door. With the table and chair now claimed he walked up to the bar and asked the bartender, “Excuse me, good sir, but might I please know what the prices are for some food and something non-alcoholic please?”

(choosing to settle at X9 but walked up to X2 to ask his question)
The Turami spared the man a glance as he approached the bar and made his request, taking note of his somewhat formal manner of speaking.

As Ivvie got a closer look at the woman's face, she could place a finger on her earlier feeling - she recognized her! And it was even a pleasant surprise, in that it wasn't someone she had fleeced before. In fact, the acquaintance was from before she had had reason to worry about such a thing. That alone was unusual enough that it had made coming here worthwhile, she supposed.

"I can almost not believe the coincidence, but I do believe we know each other," Ivvie chimed up brightly, bobbing up and down a foot with the help of her wings to make herself more visible. "It's been ages, half-a-lifetime ages! Ivvie, in case that still rings a bell? It must be close to two years soon, so I wouldn't fault you." The truth was, Ivvie wasn't sure if she remembered Jamala's? no, Jalana's? name correctly herself, but she'd be damned if she admitted that. "How goes your work and - wait, let me get a seat!"

Ivvie dove towards the barstool half hidden behind the man placing an order, and pulled it closer to hopefully-really-Jalana's with what she considered an acceptably low amount of bumping into anyone or anything, considering the stool was as about tall as she was. She flashed the man an apologetic yet cheerful look just in case before she turned back to her acquaintance.
The human woman squinted at the excitable owlgirl, hoping she could put a name to that face before her head really started to hurt. Fortunately she succeeded, and gave Ivvie a friendly smile.

"I remember you...you were travelling with a caravan my group was escorting." she said, she and her damaged brain both relaxing. "It was Ivvie, right? Fancy running into you, here of all places."

She took another swig from her tankard, before speaking again. "My work could probably be going better. Took a nasty knock a short while ago..." she pointed to the scarred part of her head, an injury that hadn't been there when Ivvie last saw her, "...and my sisters in arms decided it prudent to leave me here to recover. That, or they've decided to use it as an excuse to drop me..."
 

Sherwood

Luna's Concubine
Supporter
Brazamal is currently seated at the table in spot 7, having a few drinks with his fellow Dragonborn, Smallmouth, getting a rundown on the local news. It is rare to find one of his kind outside their lands, so being able to chat with someone that understands him in Draconic is a nice change of pace from the norm. He has his greatsword sheathed on his back, sitting over his blue cloak and platemail armor, with an amulet showing his holy symbol hanging from around his neck.

Motion from the front door draws his eye, and he raises an eyebrow at the sight of the gnoll. Now that is a rare sight to see. He casually shifts his weight in the chair to keep a better eye on this newcomer, but is reassured when he sees that the elf woman appears to be a companion of the gnoll, with her own holy symbol for one of the many elf gods around her neck. Just a pair of travelers, coming in to get out of the weather. I wonder which god she serves? I would recognize one of the dark gods, and that symbol is not for one of them.

Brazamal raises up his mug for another drink as he listens to Smallmouth run on and on.
 

Thanny

The Destined Undestined
Fireplace and Bar (mentions D. Rex D. Rex and Psychie Psychie and Shadeofshade Shadeofshade , jaydude jaydude and Felis Felis , Sherwood Sherwood ):

Hubert Bloodoak made a visual pass over the room, as was customary to him, and caught the eye of the young wood elf that had just came in, giving her a solemn nod slower than most. He was not one for communication, but her appearance, as was that of her companion the gnoll, was more than worthy of it. It was especially rare to see one of the outside races of the world even enter the city, and Hubert wondered if the cause of his migration to more civilised lands was out of his own volition or someone else's. He also wondered if they drank alcohol or if it just spattered everywhere. Perhaps it was best to give her the fancy glass and him the tankard, just in case. Glasses are expensive and, being an ex-adventurer once upon a time, he worried of the temperament of his potential newfound patron.

The waiter of the tavern and the cook of the tavern were the same person, a crusty old coot about sixty years of age whose skin seemed worn down by the destructive forces of waves, and whose gaze and gait seemed very much like a seaman's. He took on a small cap to cover his balding spot for the travelling public and looked about for new customers. Having found two, one of which was within the dressage of the sea and at the counter, he migrated to the table next to the fireplace and gave his most customer-satisfying smile, which was sadly more of a snarling grin than anything else.

"I can take your order over here, sir," he voiced in cracky tones, taking out a pad of paper and some sort of rudimentary pencil to jot down the order. (Passive Perception 14 --> ) The pencil itself was quite worn and small, seemingly bit on at times, which was surprising given the fact it was mostly charcoal. "I recommend the seafood surprise for you, young master, and while we have warm ales a glass of mead would be rather more recommended for the meal. Of course, it is up to you and your tastes. As for you, miss, we have a rather delicious stew and some meat specials with boiled and baked pasta, as well as tea or wine. If you would rather, we have a menu."

The bartender flinched when hearing of a glass of mead and grumbled under his breath. For all of his temperament, Chef Slab (as that was what the waiter and cook of the establishment called himself) still had some promise. He warmly accepted the sight of gold, however. The usual types he meets up with have coppers and silvers but not golds, and three of these shining pieces would buy a feast for two. Scooping these up, Hubert smiled at the gnoll and said, "Whichever you would like is fine by me. Welcome to the Twin Hooked Moons."

[Phectty]

The friendly tinny chime of a small bell at the door sounded out, and another person stepped out from the rain, though this time not a sodden individual, which was impressive. That, or the rain was letting up, which the bartender really could not tell due to the water-streaked windows. Instead he concentrated on the affable individual before him, seeking out pricings for food and non-alcoholic beverages. He rubbed a thick hand against the scruff and side of his neck and reset his hands before him, the glass he was rubbing so fervently discarded to the side for now.

"We have a menu here upon request, though if you desire something specific our chef here is making rounds. That's him over there," he answered, pointing over to Chef Slab who was by Athaclenna's table. He pulled out a wooden board with some parchment attached to it. This, the menu, was relatively small in terms of quantity of foods available, but there did seem to be some crowd-pleasers on there, and the chef could also whip up something in the kitchen that may not look the best but would taste sublime to the average adventurer. "For drinks I recommend our juice, a punch of sorts but not exactly of the mixer kind if you get my meaning. I think that will suit your taste, good sir."

[Ivvy]

The sound of another welcome chime was followed up by two things: a crash of the door returning to its original position, and a glare in that direction from Hubert Bloodoak, as he was the bartender and owner and did not exactly welcome the thought of fixing up the door. Watching the owlfolk trot in, he returned his gaze to the others, grumbling something under his breath.

The chef was perfectly willing to look over and smile through his cracked lips at the little owlfolk as she approached another individual. They were a rare breed in this area, whether she be aarakocra or some other avian breed, and let her continue undeterred and have her conversation with the human at a nearby table.

[Brazamal]

"And so she said this and he said that, and all the while they never really thought about the fact when he had fallen he had stepped in dookie! Whose it was is yet to be determined, but that is why you never dive into alleyways to get ahead when late! Gwahaha! Bahahahah!" laughed the golden dragonborn in Draconic to his silver brother.

Whether they were related is unknown to many (in fact, it was quite unlikely given their ancestries), but whoever coined the phrase "Speech is silver, silence gold" did not take into account Smallmouth. Smallmouth was decked out in outlandish garb and a fine set of chainmail that gleamed golden even in the darkness, matching his beauteous scales. His mouth was disproportionately big, persistently grinning, and a little snaggletoothed which only added to his charm surprisingly. His familiar danced over his shoulder, a small pseudodragon that beadily stared out at the others in the room.

"But tell me again, brother," he voiced, quieter this time, "tell me again: what brings a follower of him out here of all places? Were you too born here in the Wildlands outside the cities? While I too believe and put my faith in Big B, it is rare for someone of the cloth or in the trapments of his protectors to be close to the cities after recent years. You know, the massacre that happened in Neverwinter a while back, three years if I recall right. The temple was besmirched by the feet of the unfaithful guard and killed half of the clergy, the others jailed. We live in, as they call it, interesting times, but I wish we lived in better ones. Is that why you're here? I won't tell a soul of a brother."
 

Psychie

Princess Psychie
Athaclenna nods at the barkeep, saying to him, "Ale and stew would both be fine for me, thank you." She then gives Toryk an exasperated look when he mentions the way the other woman was looking at her. "Just because someone looks at another person across a room doesn't mean that they are wanting more than to slake their own curiosity as to whom it is that just came in. Look at my traveling companion, for goodness sake. You stand out a little bit in a crowd. Perhaps it was just a case of wondering who it is that would travel with a gnoll! Silly man."
 

jaydude

Four Thousand Club
Jalana heard Athaclenna's comment, and gave her tankard a good-natured roll of the eyes. If the elf was ignorant of the fact that the other woman had been checking her out, that was her problem.

At the sound of Smallmouth's laughter, she glanced in the direction of the table presently occupied by the two dragonborn, wondering just what all the fuss was about. Not that she could understand Draconic, of course. Once she'd done that, she turned back to Ivvie.

"So anyway, right now I'm just looking for work." she said, loud enough for Hubert and the closest patrons to hear her. "I might have a slightly irritating permanent headache at the moment, but I haven't forgotten how to chop off a head or cave it in..."

Addressed: Felis Felis
Mentioned: Psychie Psychie Sherwood Sherwood
 

Felis

Meow?
The human woman squinted at the excitable owlgirl, hoping she could put a name to that face before her head really started to hurt. Fortunately she succeeded, and gave Ivvie a friendly smile.

"I remember you...you were travelling with a caravan my group was escorting." she said, she and her damaged brain both relaxing. "It was Ivvie, right? Fancy running into you, here of all places."

She took another swig from her tankard, before speaking again. "My work could probably be going better. Took a nasty knock a short while ago..." she pointed to the scarred part of her head, an injury that hadn't been there when Ivvie last saw her, "...and my sisters in arms decided it prudent to leave me here to recover. That, or they've decided to use it as an excuse to drop me..."
Jalana heard Athaclenna's comment, and gave her tankard a good-natured roll of the eyes. If the elf was ignorant of the fact that the other woman had been checking her out, that was her problem.

At the sound of Smallmouth's laughter, she glanced in the direction of the table presently occupied by the two dragonborn, wondering just what all the fuss was about. Not that she could understand Draconic, of course. Once she'd done that, she turned back to Ivvie.

"So anyway, right now I'm just looking for work." she said, loud enough for Hubert and the closest patrons to hear her. "I might have a slightly irritating permanent headache at the moment, but I haven't forgotten how to chop off a head or cave it in..."

Addressed: Felis Felis
Mentioned: Psychie Psychie Sherwood Sherwood
Ivvie nodded as she listened, shifting her weight as she tried to sit cross-legged on the bar stool without falling off it or getting the seat muddy.

When Jalana (Ivvie decided to trust her memory of the name) pointed out her injury, Ivvie tilted her head sympathetically. "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that! Hopefully it gets better soon. On the bright side, though, you're alive, right? And you've said it yourself, it hasn't changed that strong and capable, so I'm sure they haven't dropped you." After all, mercenary groups were different from Ivvie's more short-lived partnerships of convenience, weren't they? Jalana's group had seemed tight-knit, for what her impression from back then was worth.

"Well then, I'm rooting for you! I'm still not exactly in the head-chopping business, so... Oh, but I'd feel a little bad simply leaving you to yourself when we've just met again and you've had it this rough lately. It's not much, but would you like me to cast a good-luck spell for you? Like a lucky charm! I've become quite good at it, I'm told, and it can't hurt, can it?"

Usually, this would also serve as promoting her "service" to superstitious folk who might be willing to pay for it, but there wasn't enough of a crowd that Ivvie had high hopes for that.
 

Sherwood

Luna's Concubine
Supporter
Whether they were related is unknown to many (in fact, it was quite unlikely given their ancestries), but whoever coined the phrase "Speech is silver, silence gold" did not take into account Smallmouth. Smallmouth was decked out in outlandish garb and a fine set of chainmail that gleamed golden even in the darkness, matching his beauteous scales. His mouth was disproportionately big, persistently grinning, and a little snaggletoothed which only added to his charm surprisingly. His familiar danced over his shoulder, a small pseudodragon that beadily stared out at the others in the room.

"But tell me again, brother," he voiced, quieter this time, "tell me again: what brings a follower of him out here of all places? Were you too born here in the Wildlands outside the cities? While I too believe and put my faith in Big B, it is rare for someone of the cloth or in the trapments of his protectors to be close to the cities after recent years. You know, the massacre that happened in Neverwinter a while back, three years if I recall right. The temple was besmirched by the feet of the unfaithful guard and killed half of the clergy, the others jailed. We live in, as they call it, interesting times, but I wish we lived in better ones. Is that why you're here? I won't tell a soul of a brother."
Brazamal smiles, hearing the god Bahumut being referred to as 'the Big B'. That is a new one to him. "I have no specific mandate to extract revenge upon those that committed that atrocity, but if the occasion presents itself, then I would be remiss in my duties to not do something about it. No, at the moment, I am just traveling, trying to deliver the good words of Bahumut to those that follow Him, and to provide a bit of hope in an otherwise dark world to anyone of good heart."

He reaches for his tankard once more, enjoying the cool drink going down his throat.
 

Shadeofshade

Senior Member
Phectty thought for a moment. Once he made his decision he smiled, pulled out his pouch from his inner pocket, pulled out 3 coins and said, “Very well then. I’ll take your recommended drink and whatever you recommend for food. I do believe this should cover it.” He placed 2 Gold coins on the counter and then continued with, “And, I’m also feeling generous today so, I’ll buy a round of drinks for everyone in this fine establishment. Including you and your dear Cook, I do hope this will be enough.” He then placed the third coin on the counter, A platinum coin. “If there is any change left then by all means, use said change towards more drinks for everyone.”
 

Thanny

The Destined Undestined
[All]

The dear cook, as he was referred to by the newcomer who was dressed in merchant finery, tossed a good-natured wink toward the lady elf and scribbled down her order while saying it, and did so for all of the patrons, including Brazamal, who he had noticed earlier lift his mug. Whether or not he had intended to ask for one was now beyond necessity thanks to the efforts of the earlier mentioned newcomer, and while the overwhelmed bartender bit down on the platinum coin to see if it was real (it was hard to tell sometimes with people Prestidigitating everywhere) the chef dove into the kitchen to fetch the intoxicating liquids and delicious edible food substances.

"Well now, thank you kindly, stranger. This is more than sufficient." With a friendly smile Hubert the bartender eyed the provider of gold and redirected his attention to the others in the tavern. "If anyone is looking for taking their first sips of fire ale and getting sufficiently smashed, now is your chance. Careful, though. I sure as heck ain't going to cart your rears home, wherever you call home."

Ychera was the first to raise her hand, followed by Isayri. Out of all of the usual patrons, these two were of impressive constitution and were fine with freeloading off of the provided plat and gold.

Grumbling, Hubert turned about and opened a slat leading to the kitchen. The fine smell of hot stew and frying foods billowed out with a waft of steam.

"Slab, let's pour our guests some four flagons of fire ales while we are at it. There may be more, so keep tally."

"Aye, sir," came from within, perhaps a little too bubbly.

With the slat now closed Hubert wondered if he was going to lose money with this venture, or if he had to charge more when over the limit the gold provided.

jaydude jaydude

Sapphique, the water genasi of the room, looked over from his table near Jalana's toward the young woman favourably. She seemed like a woman who knew how dirty a job can get and can get her hands stained with blood and slid his roguish self over to her, offering her a business transaction that seemed rather like a death contract for goblins set up outside of town, swift and easy, for the bounty of a hundred gold. Unbenownst to both, there was something better soon to arrive.

Sherwood Sherwood

"A fine duty, that sounds like a fine duty!" voiced Smallmouth excitedly. "Missionary work is of favour in my eyes. There is always need for it in this dark, wintry sector of the world, and if you ask me the good gods are the ones portrayed as bad by the general populace. Not that it matters much now. The Wall* is down now. In the long scheme of things, we are free to worship whomever we wish even if it is no one at all. Of course, there are always prejudices."

* = Roll a Religion check, DC 12, to discover what the Wall is if not known.

[All]

Just then the tavern door creaked open and chimed the little tin bell, and in walked a fat-nosed, dark-grey man of small nature, with overlarge swollen hands and sullen, deep-blue eyes. His clothes were of servant livery, but well worn as if he had gotten into a scuffle or five while on the job. He was a deep gnome, his gaze drifting over the rest of the establishment and, catching what appeared to be a decent number of adventurers within the room, glanced down at the paper clutched in his left hand one final time before moving toward the main body of the group.

"Excuse me," he called out to the group, voice in a middling and resonating tremolo, "but would any of you be interested in some work for an employer who can pay you well for the search of"--he sniffled with a sharp upturn of his nose--"valuable items. He has not given me anything of great detail, and I am not to disclose who he is without prior agreement, but he did inform me that he will pay you for your also valuable time as well, at least ten gold pieces to have you visit if you are an adventurer looking for work, though I do hope that you will take his offer for that will enrichen everyone involved."


He took one last glance down at his paper before nodding in agreement with himself, as if satisfied. Some might suspect it to be a trap, but he did not seem to really look at any of the patrons, plus he was seeking to hire adventurers all at once. Ychera bristled and ran him through with her eyes as if by recognition, Isayri shrugged her broad shoulders as if not interested, and Sapphique and Smallmouth seemed contented enough to stay here, too well paid to consider adventuring.
 
Last edited:

D. Rex

Magic Eight Ball
Athaclenna nods at the barkeep, saying to him, "Ale and stew would both be fine for me, thank you." She then gives Toryk an exasperated look when he mentions the way the other woman was looking at her. "Just because someone looks at another person across a room doesn't mean that they are wanting more than to slake their own curiosity as to whom it is that just came in. Look at my traveling companion, for goodness sake. You stand out a little bit in a crowd. Perhaps it was just a case of wondering who it is that would travel with a gnoll! Silly man."

"The seafood special. And just warm ale for me. I do no be having the tongue for the fancy drinks." He said before turning his attention back to his companion.

"Of course she do. These seedy huts, only three kind of looks be given between folk. Eyes for murder, eyes for gold, and eyes for the aggressive cuddlin. And it do be more often than not it be two of the three in any instance. Normally murder and gold, or gold and cuddlin. I seen murder and cuddling a few time though. She wasn't looking at me gold, and her sword do be sheathed. So she be making them cuddle eyes at you." He gave the elf a big toothy grin.

"Mayhaps, mayhaps. It do be the first question on people's mind. But why be so cynical when the alternative be more amusing?" He guffawed and leaned back in his chair.

And just in time to overhear the one at the bar just lay down some serious money to buy drinks. Now this was a treat!

"Here here, to the man of free drink!" Toryk cheered loudly in appreciation. A round of drinks always deserved proper respect! "Give us your name that we may sing it drunkenly in thanks!" Shadeofshade Shadeofshade





Thanny Thanny

But then the high was killed by the newest patron. Oh. Him. Actually. Wait. This could actually be a stroke of luck. Garbo. Gordo. Gardo. The collector guys friend. Whatever his name was. Surely by now word would have gotten to him about the loss of the Captain, the ship, and its treasure. Unfortunately with Toryk being the only one left that meant it fell on him to make the report. Fortunately it meant he might be able to track the traitor.

"Garbo!" He called over the bar to the man whose name he couldn't quite remember. He remembered that nose though. No mistaking it. "I be gotting business with our... mutual employer. Get over here and drink."
 

jaydude

Four Thousand Club
Ivvie nodded as she listened, shifting her weight as she tried to sit cross-legged on the bar stool without falling off it or getting the seat muddy.

When Jalana (Ivvie decided to trust her memory of the name) pointed out her injury, Ivvie tilted her head sympathetically. "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that! Hopefully it gets better soon. On the bright side, though, you're alive, right? And you've said it yourself, it hasn't changed that strong and capable, so I'm sure they haven't dropped you." After all, mercenary groups were different from Ivvie's more short-lived partnerships of convenience, weren't they? Jalana's group had seemed tight-knit, for what her impression from back then was worth.

"Well then, I'm rooting for you! I'm still not exactly in the head-chopping business, so... Oh, but I'd feel a little bad simply leaving you to yourself when we've just met again and you've had it this rough lately. It's not much, but would you like me to cast a good-luck spell for you? Like a lucky charm! I've become quite good at it, I'm told, and it can't hurt, can it?"

Usually, this would also serve as promoting her "service" to superstitious folk who might be willing to pay for it, but there wasn't enough of a crowd that Ivvie had high hopes for that.

Jalana smiled, but she'd spent just enough time with Ivvie to remember that the things she tended to offer weren't exactly all she claimed to be. She was trying to figure out the best way to politely decline the charm, while ignoring the loudmouthed gnoll, when Saffique came by with his offer of work. It certainly sounded like a good job, but before Jalana could give him an answer, the gnommish servant came by with his own offer.

Once the gnome had finished speaking, Jalana stood up and approached him, though she frowned a little upon noticing that the gnoll had also taken some interest in him. Still, she figured that she might as well meet with the gnome's client. At the very least, the gold being offered just for showing up would take care of her living expenses for five days.

Mentioned: D. Rex D. Rex Felis Felis
 

Sherwood

Luna's Concubine
Supporter
"A fine duty, that sounds like a fine duty!" voiced Smallmouth excitedly. "Missionary work is of favour in my eyes. There is always need for it in this dark, wintry sector of the world, and if you ask me the good gods are the ones portrayed as bad by the general populace. Not that it matters much now. The Wall* is down now. In the long scheme of things, we are free to worship whomever we wish even if it is no one at all. Of course, there are always prejudices."

* = Roll a Religion check, DC 12, to discover what the Wall is if not known.
Rolling Religion Check at a +3

Total of a 20
 

Sherwood

Luna's Concubine
Supporter
The word of free drinks is a welcome one, and Brazamal raises up his nearly empty mug in salute to the person at the bar paying for his refill. He joins the gnoll in saying, "You have my thanks, neighbor. Your timing is excellent; my mug is nearly empty, but it is going to be well taken care of now." He waits patiently for the barkeep to make his rounds to deliver the refills.
"Excuse me," he called out to the group, voice in a middling and resonating tremolo, "but would any of you be interested in some work for an employer who can pay you well for the search of"--he sniffled with a sharp upturn of his nose--"valuable items. He has not given me anything of great detail, and I am not to disclose who he is without prior agreement, but he did inform me that he will pay you for your also valuable time as well, at least ten gold pieces to have you visit if you are an adventurer looking for work, though I do hope that you will take his offer for that will enrichen everyone involved."
Brazamal raises up a scaly eyebrow at this. I wonder just what these items are that the 'owner' is willing to pay so much just to have someone hear his offer. He asks, "Who is this mysterious benefactor, and when do you need to have the answer to this generous offer? Where do we go to meet this fellow?" The paladin is curious, and is seriously considering going, just to get the details that have not been released to this messenger.
 

Psychie

Princess Psychie
"Of course she do. These seedy huts, only three kind of looks be given between folk. Eyes for murder, eyes for gold, and eyes for the aggressive cuddlin. And it do be more often than not it be two of the three in any instance. Normally murder and gold, or gold and cuddlin. I seen murder and cuddling a few time though. She wasn't looking at me gold, and her sword do be sheathed. So she be making them cuddle eyes at you." He gave the elf a big toothy grin.

"Mayhaps, mayhaps. It do be the first question on people's mind. But why be so cynical when the alternative be more amusing?" He guffawed and leaned back in his chair.

And just in time to overhear the one at the bar just lay down some serious money to buy drinks. Now this was a treat!

"Here here, to the man of free drink!" Toryk cheered loudly in appreciation. A round of drinks always deserved proper respect! "Give us your name that we may sing it drunkenly in thanks!"
Athaclenna rolls her eyes at her companion's insistent matchmaking. "Men. It doesn't matter what species you may be, you all have the same thing on your minds; sex, food and violence. Now, I'm not saying that there is not a time and place for all three, but you should temper it with moral prayer and charitable works. Come. Let us enjoy or meal."

She then turns to look at the human that is offering up the free drink for everyone. "My thanks, good sir. Even with the rains, the heat is enough to make the mouth dry."

Then the offer comes up of good paying work, and she knows that Toryk is going to want to be all over that. That coin can do much to help the needy. It certainly couldn't hurt to go and hear more of this offer. "Tell me, stranger, is there time enough to enjoy our meal that we just ordered, or is this job that time sensitive that we must go now? It has been many miles since my last good meal, and I would be loathe to overlook this chance to get one."
 

D. Rex

Magic Eight Ball
Athaclenna rolls her eyes at her companion's insistent matchmaking. "Men. It doesn't matter what species you may be, you all have the same thing on your minds; sex, food and violence. Now, I'm not saying that there is not a time and place for all three, but you should temper it with moral prayer and charitable works. Come. Let us enjoy or meal."

She then turns to look at the human that is offering up the free drink for everyone. "My thanks, good sir. Even with the rains, the heat is enough to make the mouth dry."

Then the offer comes up of good paying work, and she knows that Toryk is going to want to be all over that. That coin can do much to help the needy. It certainly couldn't hurt to go and hear more of this offer. "Tell me, stranger, is there time enough to enjoy our meal that we just ordered, or is this job that time sensitive that we must go now? It has been many miles since my last good meal, and I would be loathe to overlook this chance to get one."

"And gold." He added to her list, politely. "Dont forget gold."

When the topic of prayer was brought up. Toryk just grunted. He wasn't all that sold on the idea of gods. Had met too many Yeenoghu acolytes. To him, gods were just demons of a different color. No. He hadn't really had much experience with people of the faith. Not in his line of work. His tribe had been among those that distanced themselves from yeenoghu and other religions. Safer to not get involved. But he did refrain from saying anything bad about them. He didn't want to insult his friend. And he supposed compared to the gnoll clerics. Athaclenna and her God were a vast improvement.
 

Shadeofshade

Senior Member
D. Rex D. Rex Sherwood Sherwood Psychie Psychie
Phectty smiled, turned around, gave a slight preformative bow and said with cheer, “The name’s Phectty, friends. A humble Travelling Merchant that does a bit of adventuring on the side. Pleasure to make everyone's day.”

Thanny Thanny
When the Deep Gnome had made the offer and the Lady Elf had asked their question, Phectty saw an opportunity to help out his family and maybe make some new family members along the way. “I, to, am interested, Sir Gnome. Is it time sensitive or can we enjoy a meal and a drink before we all head to where we need to go to meet your employer? If the latter then why not join in? I’m willing to pay, always am.”
 

jaydude

Four Thousand Club
"Hey." said Jalana, moving to join the group that appeared to be forming in response to the gnome's offer, placing a hand on her hip. "If you're all going to be discussing this job, you can forget about leaving me out of it."

If that and her armor didn't make her presence known to everyone, she wasn't sure what would.

She smiled at Athaclenna again, and then looked at Phectty. "Thanks for the free drink, by the way." she said, giving a little shake of her fresh flagon.
 
Last edited:

Sherwood

Luna's Concubine
Supporter
Phectty smiled, turned around, gave a slight preformative bow and said with cheer, “The name’s Phectty, friends. A humble Travelling Merchant that does a bit of adventuring on the side. Pleasure to make everyone's day.”
Brazamal returns the bow with one of his own. "Well met, Phectty. I am Brazamal, and it is my pleasure to make your acquaintance. May the blessings of whatever god you follow be upon you." He grabs up his newly filled tankard and clomps over to stand nearby the Deep Gnome, looking forward to getting some more information.
 

Felis

Meow?
jaydude jaydude
Before Ivvie could decide whether Jalana was too polite to accept the offer of a charm, thought of these things as superstitious nonsense or for some reason didn't want Ivvie to do it (sorted in order from most likely to least likely, of course), several other things happened that took the reins on her attention and let her all but forget about her own offer.

Shadeofshade Shadeofshade
First, there was the human offering free drinks, showing generosity Ivvie didn't only need to make a mental note of, but encourage by appropriate courtesy. "Many thanks from me as well!" she chimed up, then jumped down from her barstool to offer a quick bow. "Your kindness is most appreciated!"

She barely had time to ponder whether to neglect the conversation with Jalana to find out more about this merchant - was it more worthwhile to try and befriend him to have a potential safety net if she was in financial trouble or to see if she could tease a more immediate benefit from him? - before the gnome entered with his message, and Ivvie became convinced this was turning out to be the best day in a long time. Two fairly auspicious meetings in a row and now there was a possibility to go on a treasure hunt for a patron shrouded in mystery?

Thanny Thanny
"I'll come hear your employer out!" Ivvie hopped towards the group forming around the gnome, nodding in greeting to the others considering the job. "He and his offer sound most intriguing." She bobbed on her toes, nodding to herself. Now this was what she had been hoping to find when she had thought of 'something else catching her interest'. Whether or not the deal was genuine was secondary - simply finding out would be fun already.
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Similar threads

Top