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Fantasy Twisted Adventures: Disorder and Gob Snot

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RitualDeadlyf

Forget It, Shoot Me
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  • As you enter the doors of the mysterious Twisted Inn that was located _________, a small breeze of warmth caressed your cheeks. It was oddly comforting to most, some panicked due to the temperature change especially the underwater folk. Those folks were often found scratching at the door to get back out really giving a new meaning to "a fish out of water". In addition to the warmth, there was a variety of noises from laughter, cries, yelling and even music filling the inn.

    However, there was nothing particularly unique when it came to the style of the inn. Wooden, oil lamps or candles, a fancy bar, and a staircase leading to a dimly lit upstairs were all very apparent. Before long, you are greeted by a hideous, green pixie. Their teeth crooked, rotted and stuck out with an underbite looking at you with lifeless, black eyes.

    "Welcome to the Twisted Inn! Please fill out this survey on how you found us and a signature." the pixie squeaked before rushing off to the next new guest.

    To your surprise, the survey filled out on its own with a little focus and your thoughts. But, if you tried to throw the paper to the side, it would stick to your hand similar to a glue trap. After the survey filled itself out through the help of your thoughts, the lettering would fade and transform into a type of list.

    17-20 You notice that papers, similar to the surveys, were magically appearing in a jar behind the barmaid at the bar.
    10-16 You notice it, but don't take note of it. You'll likely forget you saw it.
    4-9 You obliviously glanced at it.
    1-3 Forget it. Go look elsewhere.

    After getting adjusted to the new environment and twiddling your thumbs, you hear a loud curdling scream coming from the far left of the inn. There, a brute of an orc was being swallowed by... the quest board? Few came over to help him out but the assistance was quickly met with resistance from fear-striken members.

    Towards the bar, a chime could be heard that could be described as a bell but had an unusual captivating vibration. There, a woman with deep sea blue hair, tied up, walked from behind the counters of the bar. "Alright folks, new quests are in! Get it moving before the times close. Those who miss out... have to stay here even longer!" She laughed maliciously, but had almost had some sincerity in her tone.

    17-20 You're able to appraoch the barmaiden without distraction.
    10-16 You have to fight a crowd to get to the woman.
    4-9 You're unable to make your way to her, and as a result, are pushed down by a drunk. You suffer a small injury (scraped knee, will sting occasionally but manageable).
    1-3 You're unable to approach and decide to do something else.
 
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Entering the tavern, Ankerita a sigh of relief as the warmed air of too many people reached her chilled bones. As lovely as her best dress wasn’t quite warm enough for the chill of this autumn night. Though she fought it as much as she could, winter was coming. She should have brought a shawl with her. She’d already ruined the back with the armor that was so insistent on coming with her. How worse would a wrap be anyway?

Standing in the doorway, the woman scanned the patrons and froze. What was she looking at? She must be having some fever dream. On the stools, leaning up against quite a nice bar were monsters. Looking less human than the giant she still had nightmares about. Slowly, her gaze took in the rest of the inn. Just like the outside, it was wooden. As expected, as it was (should be? What was true in a dream?) night, it was lit by candles with a few of those fancy oil lamps you’d see in the palace. There were stairs, presumably leading to rooms for travelers to stay the night. All perfectly normal, except for--

She screamed. Throwing herself back against the door. This hideous green thing had appeared, right in front of her. It was floating. The size of a baby. It had four limbs, plus what looked like wings holding it up. It drew near, talking from its revolting mouth.

"Welcome to the Twisted Inn! Please fill out this survey on how you found us and a signature."
It handed her a piece of paper that she somehow took before it flew(?) off, moving through the air as easily as if it had legs. The ‘survey’ (which was not used how she understood the word) stuck to her open hand as she stared at it incomprehensibly. Soon, her mind started working well enough to make out words, for she was learned enough to read. And then, after reading the words, she could see lettering unlike her own, but following her thoughts appear. What was this place? I’m supposed to be at the new local inn! This was just on the outskirts of town, but surely this isn’t real.
1
1-3 You're unable to approach and decide to do something else.
Immediately after she read the new writing, it too disappeared into a list. Dazed, she walked over to an empty table, falling into the chair as her legs simply gave out. She could feel her armor tighten around her in an approximate of a hug and she ran her hands down her ribs in response. This was insane. Looking back at the crowd at the monsters, she swallowed. Then she stood back up and walked to the door.

She tugged. It did not move an inch. She tried again. Then pulled with all her strength. She grabbed onto the handle, braced her feet then let her weight hang, using gravity beyond the strength in her arms. Nothing. Though she knew the door opened inward when she walked in, for the hell of it, she pushed. For a second she thought she felt movement but realized it was just her weight settling against the door. Lowering her head against the unforgiving wood, she sighed deeply.

Having failed, as she’d been resigned to, Ankertita returned to her table. Sitting down, she pulled the chair close to her and thought. Magic was real. She’d known that her whole life. Most kids did but felt that beyond fairy godmothers, it was a thing of evil of witches and giants and other monsters. But other than witches, which everyone knew to be cunning, she’d never considered any of them particularly smart. Let alone civilized. So watching some furry creature, reminiscent of a dog, calmly talking with its paw(?) wrapped around his mug was a lot. Nevermind its conversation partner.

So, as long as she was playing along with this hopefully-a-dream, she had to accept that these monsters acted as people did in an inn. They laughed, with loud braying noises, they shoved each other to get through the crowds without bloodshed, they drank like the town idiot, and they even played music. All of it was perfectly normal behavior regardless of who was doing it. What she had to decide was, were they evil? They acted as regular folk. But even regular folk had some evil in them. Were these creatures evil because of magic? Or did she assume them to act like regular people? She took a moment to try and decide which her fevered mind would prefer, before giving it up.

Just then there was a blood-curdling scream. Louder than she’d given at the flying baby. She turned toward it, heart in her throat. What could make these monsters scared? Some dark-skinned beast, shaped like a huge man from what she could see, was being…eaten by the wall? The board on the wall? She watched with everyone else, any assistance being deterred by those closer as he disappeared into the hidden gullet of the board.

Evil. Right. Her mind picked evil. There was a chime as if confirming her choice, and a woman appeared, calm after the death as if it were common. She spoke of new quests, like a merchant hawking new wares. Then implied they were stuck, no…that there was a way out. Ankerita had to get more information. This woman obviously had no problem with her…pet(?) eating people, so Ankerita would have to be careful. Still, she was her best source for information, for now, the other patrons would probably give her better accounts, but it was best to learn the official information first. Learn the rules, and follow them until you know them well enough to stretch them.
2
1-3 You're unable to approach and decide to do something else.
Standing, the lost woman began to make her way across the room. However, at the moment she stood, half of the tavern seemed to stand with her, all crossing in front of her to head for that evil board. She could not get through. She did not dare fight her way through the sea of monsters, instead, she returned to her table, willing to wait for things to calm before braving the storm.
 
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Fawke.png~Fawke Locke - Dippu elf...~
~Bok - Fey chicken...~
~Location The Twisted Inn...~
~Interactions: RitualDeadlyf RitualDeadlyf The Barmaid and the pixie...~
~references: Lost Echo Lost Echo Ankerita...~



The door to the inn opened and a large set of emerald eyes gazed into the room, and a smaller poltry set of eyes as well. You'd probably would need to look down to see him as the man stood three feet in height. He was average in height for a dippu elf but to the rest of the world, he might as well have been a lawn gnome. Though his attire, pointed ears and elven features made his true heritage clear.

A curious look sat on his face as he looked around. It was his first time being in a city away from home. Strange faces in every shape and color. Too many unhappy faces of people walking down the street reminding him this was not home. Fawke's smile faded when he saw just what he was getting himself into. Drunk people him nervous. Seeing them sway about. Fawke stared at his feet then saw a pair if feet behind him, a large man was looking down at him. He gave Fawke a strange look. It were as if the man never seen a boy and his chicken entering a tavern before.

"Ugh, oh sorry!" He said scooting out of his way. He watched as the man walked in. He took his first step into the building, his small size allowed him to mostly move by unnoticed. Then he saw it. Despite his immediate reluctance to enter the place, there was also a curiosity. Why were there so many people here? Surely there was something to interest all these people, and the elf needed to know.

"Welcome to the Twisted Inn! Please fill out this survey on how you found us and a signature."

Fawke crouched down, covering his ears and closing his eyes. He remained there until he slowly opened his eyes. Before him floated a green pixie. Surprisingly it didn't bother him much and only scared him due to it catching him off guard.

"Bakok!" Bok yelled, leaping off Fawke's head. For a brief moment, Bok was in the air and flying at eye level with the pixie. She stared at the pixie before slowly descending atop Fawke's head once more. She made herself comfy, but never once looked away from the pixie.

"M-me...? W-well... oookay" He said looking at the piece of paper. He thought about it. He remembered the people he spoke to and how he got there, but he wasn't expecting what was about to happen.

"Well you see I spoke wi- oh wait, I need a qui- Quil...?" He watched as the answer magically appeared on the page. It was a rather lengthy explanation that appeared as many thoughts flooded his mind about how he got there. Many thoughts of how he got there and how unpleasant some of the people looked. A decent chunk had nothing to do with how he got there but made it's way on the paper then eventually it was gone. He looked at the pixie then where the paper was he wondered if he did anything wrong. He looked around. What slightly stood out was, a table with one person at it, all by her lonesome. There weren't many tables with nobody at them. If she had to sit at a table with someone at it, maybe he would sit there. But maybe she wanted to sit by herself? Bok turned her head and squinted her beady little chicken eyes as she gazed at the woman by herself.

He didn't stop to speak to her, and continued to move. He looked around aimlessly at the people, the things they were doing and the drinks they were enjoying. There were some rough looking individuals here, but he wondered what he could find. Eventually he saw someone who he wasn't afraid to speak with, and she looked like she worked there. The barmaid. He began walking towards her, carefully avoiding getting in anyone's way, he approached her. He reached up and poked her hip.

"Excuse me, miss... Do you guys by any chance sell any fruit juices or maybe some water...?" Fawke said. He had drank beverages with alcohol in them but they were elven alcoholic beverages and they were very weak as many of the patrons were dippu elves and could not take hard alcohol. At least, Fawke never tried it before. He'd probably be sick as a dog if he tried it, but considered getting it if only to experience it for a first time. Fawke smiled and waved.

"Bok bok bok bok booooook..." Bok made a soft muttering sound as she looked around. Fawke screamed ater hearing the orc scream. He watched in horror as the quest board began to eat him. Fawke would have to write 'eaten by quest board' on his new list of fears. A woman with dark blue hair told everyone to get there quests and go before closing times. Fawke didn't know what she meant, but he didn't wanna stay after closing time.
 
A soft drizzle had just begun to dampen the clothes of the pair of adventurers, it coming in larger drops as they continued upon their singular steed. Neither spoke a word as they trotted onwards, their silent, seething anger at one another enough to convey just exactly how they felt right about now. Thunder boomed in the distance as the sky little by little began to darker, almost akin to the foul mood of the two travelers. It was several, lengthy minutes before one the one at the reins spoke up over the rolling thunder.

“You know…” The male began, jaw clenched as he spoke low to the passenger sitting just behind him. “If you hadn’t taken so long getting ready this morning, we could have dropped off the customer’s horse and been home a long time ago.” He spat, knuckles whitening at the reins as his hefty swath of raven-black hair began to grow heavy with precipitation. “I do hope whatever you did to your hair can withstand a light bit of rain-” Just as he trailed on, another crackle of thunder shook the very ground around them. It was soon going to be an all out storm and here they were, very far from reaching their destination of home.

Sweeping his sopping wet hair from his face, the male tiefling let out a tense breath. “We’re going to have to stop for the night. I know they were expecting us to return before darkfall, but it's not happening, not for a while, at least. Next stop we see, we’re stopping, got it?” To be frank, he didn’t even bother listening to his sister’s response, as he was eldest and thus would make whatever executive decision was necessary. And seeing as how the rain was only growing heavier, they would find lodging somewhere for the night. Period. End of discussion. Ready to get away from the rain, the tiefling flicked the reins of their mare, Io, to quicken her pace to a steady dash.

By whatever miracle, eventually, there was a faint light in the darkness as they tread forwards. It had been only, what, ten or so minutes before stumbling upon this sight? Wiping away at the rain droplets that had collected along his eyelashes, the male diverted their course towards the light. As they approached, his gaze fell upon the worn painted sign of the establishment, taking in the name: The Twisted Inn. Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t recall having seen this inn on the way through earlier today. Which either meant one of two things: They had taken a different path that had bypassed this area of the woods or he was struggling with memorization again. The devil-kin’s teeth ground together as he could only assume the latter.

More angered than he was before, the man swung himself over the flank of the horse to huddle within the overhang of the shelter. At the current moment, he cared very little for being a gentleman and helping his sister down from Io, feeling as though she was the one that had gotten them into this mess to begin with. Turning tail, he reached for the knob of the door, calling back over his shoulder to her. “Be useful and settle Io in for the night.” Heavens help her if she left his horse out in the rain. Without letting there be room for a reply, he pressed forward on the door, a soft sigh of relief escaping him as the warmth of the inn blew over him.

A small puddle would form at his feet as he stood within the doorway, taking in the lively sight of the tavern. Plenty of people were gathered round, drinks clinking off one another, the fireplace lit and comfortable. Hell, it almost put him in a better mood. Almost. Picking himself up from his momentary stupor, the tiefling guided himself deeper within the inn, ready to lie himself out by the fire to warm up first. Yet, as he did so, a horrifically chipper voice startled him as something zipped right affront his face. Uncertain what was going on, he raised an arm to block the object from coming in contact with his face. Alas, nothing made an impact, rather, an object was placed within his hand as the voice continued to speak.

Opening his eyes that had unconsciously shut, Anziium was met face to face with the arguably the worst looking pixie he had ever seen. The poor thing looked like something a dog had gotten ahold of. Holding his tongue, as not to offend the thing, the tiefling attempted to string together whatever words she had said. “How I found this place?” He echoed back, really not feeling up for a survey at the moment. They might be a new inn trying to get reviews on business, but I’m soaked through. Now’s not the time for surveys. Forcing himself to muster a half grin, Anziium glanced down at the paper. “Right, of course. I’ll fill it out soon enough.” Waiting until she left him be, he dropped the grin to a rather irked snarl up of his mouth, as if he had just tasted something bitter.

A survey on how we found this place, how wonderful. As if I truly care about taking their survey and letting them know how much of a dolt Faralynn is. He thought bitterly, his rancid thoughts collecting on the page unbeknownst to him. And just like that, his survey was filled as much as any others in the inn, albeit his most certainly up there in terms of being the most sour of replies. Without looking back at the completed survey, he crunched the paper up in his hands, unknowing of the ingredient list that took its place. It would soon be stuffed away within his damp clothing layers. At the moment, he had more important matters to attend to.

Pushing past the other tavern goers, he finally managed to inch his way over towards the fire, pulling up a chair to sit. A soft huff escaped him as the warmth of the flame rose from the hearth, eventually sending away his shivers. He cared very little what was going on around him or the fact his sister had yet to make it inside; he was cold and angry. Arms crossed over his chest, he glanced about at the variety of creatures that danced around the inn, feeling as though this were perhaps safe enough a place to recline a little. Biting his lower lip, Anzi reached forward into the flames, making a scooping motion at it before reclining back in the chair. A flick of the flame had followed, dancing alight in his palm. “Finally.” He would murmur to himself as he ran the flame along his fingers to warm them up. Demonic ancestry did have its perks some times, ya know.

So caught up in warming himself and his clothes, he didn’t hear much of the scream from the quest board, merely thinking it was something having lost at the knife game and severed a finger. After all, this was a tavern, there was bound to be some drunken oafes doing something stupid. Now, what caught his attention was the barmaid and her ushering of new quests. “Not something I’m looking for, but she seems to run the place.” He sighed, standing from his chair to approach the woman through the crowd.

As he approached, he finished around at his hip for his coin purse, pulling out a couple of golden coins. His gaze would be caught by the smaller individual that tugged at her skirts, his brow raising at the small child that someone had thought to be a good idea in bringing her. And they were asking for juice to boot. Oh, for fuck’s sake. Catching her gaze, he cleared his throat, reaching over the short individual to offer her the coin. “Excuse me, but I’d like to pay for two rooms for the night.”
 
Coming in from the cold of the winter night, Amora stepped into the warmth of the tavern. In a small town, just a few miles from the her 'hometown', the young slime hoped to get a few bites to eat before moving on and further afield. While she had been lucky, her ichorish identity still a secret from the townsfolk, Amora didn't want to push her luck. Clad in tough cured leather and iron armour, Amora did her best to look like a tough adventurer as she maintained her humanish form. From behind her 'bangs' she scanned the room....

"Welcome to the Twisted Inn! Please fill out this survey on how you found us and a signature."

Amora squeaked in surprise as the Pixie appeared before her. Clutching a piece of paper, the Pixie lunged towards her. Instinctively Amora raised her hands in self defence, as the Pixie shot it's hands forward, catching her between the seams of her armour. The fairy's face twisted in fear and disgust as it's arm penetrated her globular body though such a reaction was all too common for Amora.

All her life she had faced persecution and judgement for being what she was; a glob of goo in girlish form. Hiding underground or in the darkest of places, her race was one of mindless murderers, her slimy sibling engulfing and digesting their prey alive within their acidic, burning bowels. Preying on the helpless and the unsuspecting, Slimes were a bane for nearly every being and it was such scorn that fell on to the shoulders of Amora. Despite looking, thinking and even feeling like the people around her, she was still seen as one of them. A cold hard truth that threatened to crush her almost every day of her young life. Though she was trying to do better and had done, helping out cityfolk and travellers a few times already, it still hurt.

She quickly let the Pixie go before she burned the tiny things skin. Amora smiled sheepishly, forcing her gaze level as the Pixie glared at her. "Thank you..." she replied, her voice as small and high pitched as the very thing before her.

Rolling it's eyes, the Pixie flew off. With that, Amora let out a deep sigh, her head drooping forward in both shame and relief. With the wind knocked out of her she pulled her hood even tighter around her head.

The tiny green creature had caught her off guard, fluttering in from behind the cover of her hood, and spooking the daylights out of her. Growing up on the harsh streets of the dark and sombre city of WaistDeep, Amora had her very soul stripped from her by it's uncaring residents. Just a shell of who she could be, living was a scary thing for the gelatinous girl.

Luckily, Amora was spared the sight of the adventurer being eaten alive, his scream only making her move faster as she made a beeline for the nearest empty table. Falling like a heap on to one of it's wooden chairs, she did her best to curl up and hide.
 
The darkness of night swept over the forest path on Curtis' way back into town. A darkness he was all too familiar with. It covered him like you would use a warm blanket to keep the cold away on a freezing night. Though with this sense of comfort, came an amplified reassurance of his exhaustion. He had been out doing jobs throughout the night, running on very little sleep, trying to get any extra cash he could to pay for his daughters medicine. She wasn't in particularly immediate danger of dying or anything, but her infliction was a rare one, so the remedy was quite costly. Not many people escape an ambush from a pack of Nightmares alive, so she's lucky that an illness is all she walked away with. His steps started to drag, leaving marks in the dirt under him. He was exhausted, but town was at least an hours worth of walking away. He decided to take a bit of a rest, spotting a comfortable(?) looking tree to lean against, and pretty much slammed into it with his back and plopping onto the floor. "Just a few minutes." He thought to himself, almost immediately falling into a soft slumber.

Only a few minutes had passed before he was jolted awake by a certain smell in the air. The second thing he was all too familiar with tonight. There was no mistaking it. He smelled booze. Curtis stood up swiftly, dusting himself off from the dirt on the ground and walked cautiously in the general direction of the lovely smell, showing little signs that he was exhausted only minutes prior. He hoped whoever it was he was approaching was friendly. Another encounter with trouble most likely wouldn't end well for him, but he couldn't just leave someone out here if they were in need.

The farther he walked, the stronger the scent grew. It smelled like an old tavern rather than just a loose bottle he had assumed it was. He then saw streaks of light shining through the trees and brush of the dark forest. He kept on going, his curiosity outweighing his other thoughts now, wanting to know how he had passed up something like this out here. Now within sight was a rather normal looking inn residing within a clearing of the forest. There was a small rustic looking stable with a horse hitched up to one of the posts. He stood there inquisitively, pondering his situation. The horse made a gentle snort, snapping Curtis out of his little daydream. "Ya know, you're right. I could use a drink and a bed" he said to the horse naturally as if they were having a conversation. The horse made a more affirmative sounding snort in response. This was just a coincidence, they weren't really having a conversation. Curtis chuckled and approached the inns doors and walked inside.

As he walked in a flash of warm air struck him in the face along with many bright lights, contrasting the cold air and darkness from outside. He surveyed his surroundings, taking notes of any potential escape routes. It appeared to just be a normal inn. The crowd however, was anything but normal. Lots of different folk he wasn't familiar with. A majority of them looked like monsters.. Yet not at the same time. They still had a bit of human touch to them. Maybe this was a secret place for all these types of different people to gather, without being judged by our socie-

"Welcome to the Twisted Inn! Please fill out this survey on how you found us and a signature."

Curtis' thoughts were interrupted by a disgusting green floating head that squeaked at him before flying off to do.. Whatever it was doing. He held the paper he had been given, and as he started to shout "and how am I supposed to fill this damn thing out?" it had already been filled out halfway. He looked back down to notice this, staring in awe as the paper continued to fill itself out with his information. Personal information, things only he knew. Once the page filled out, a list of seemingly random ingredients replaced the pre-existing contents of the page. In the corner of his eye he saw a piece of paper generate from thin air behind the counter at the same time his information vanished from the paper in his hand. However his gaze was instantly drawn to the barmaid, completely forgetting about the papers. He stared at her like you would admire an animal in its natural habitat, watching her move swiftly with grace behind the counter, handling drinks and plates as if they were air.

A loud scream that would make the animal scurry away from fear engulfed the inn. Curtis immediately turned towards the commotion, hand to his side ready to draw his blade. He wasn't expecting what his eyes were looking at. The sight of a large brute looking individual was practically being eaten alive by a.. Quest board?
The third thing he should have been familiar with that night. He's seen many quest boards in his day, but none had large murderous looking teeth trying to eat people. He tried to get to it, wanting to help the man being swallowed whole. As he started to rush towards it, the crowd of people around him burst into a panic, making it difficult to get through everyone. By the time he was within reach of the board, it had already finished it's meal. He stood there aghast, wondering what the hell was going on here.

A sudden menaical laughter along with some chimes of a bell filled the room, and everyone turned towards the bar in unison. Walking out from behind the bar, the barmaid shouted with a captivating aura.

"Alright folks, new quests are in! Get it moving before the times close. Those who miss out... have to stay here even longer!"

Curtis stood in a moment of silence, before the bar erupted into chaos. There were a few select individuals who remained calm, but the rest of the crowd just lost it. He struggled to get through them, pushing people who kept bumping into each other out of the way, as he made his way to the barmaid. She caught his eye amidst the crowd, looking straight at him. After a few elbows to his ribs and toes stepped on, he finally approached her with a stern look on his face and shouted, having to raise his voice to be heard over the crowd.

"Hey lady, the hell kinda business you running here?" He said while holding his hand out as to bring to her attention the crowd of strange people running around like headless chickens. "Not only are ya threatening people, you're lettin em get eaten by.. Whatever the hell that thing is." He pointed at the quest board, which now appeared to just be a normal quest board. He let out a large sigh. The absurdity of the situation finally hit him. This place wasn't normal. Upon closer inspection of the barmaid, she seemed perfectly composed, as if this was normal to her. Maybe it was. What if I'm just asleep, dreaming all this up after having knocked out on that tree in the forest? Surely that would explain everything. But he knew it wasn't a dream. It couldn't be. Something felt.. Off about this place. It was odd sure, but it still felt all to real. He stumbled to the nearest stool, pulled his flask out of his Breast pocket and took a very long swig. "How about you start from the beginning?"
 
:bishiesparklesr: Faralynn :bishiesparklesl:
Faralynn Aravyre.jpg
Interacting with Anzi TheCrowKing TheCrowKing
Location: Moving into the Twisted Inn, looking like a drenched mop

"Gods, my back and legs are sore from riding in this saddle so long..."
“You know… if you hadn’t taken so long getting ready this morning, we could have dropped off the customer’s horse and been home a long time ago.”
As the drizzle started to graduate into a proper torrent, Fara's mood turned more for the dour as well. The young sorceress knew that she was responsible for the late start, yes, but she was indignified at his remark stating such. She felt that if it wasn't for Anzi's hesitation at every fork in the road, ignoring her directional input and making sure to stop and check the map every time, the pair could have made it in half the time, easily. But she kept her bitterness to herself, muttering under her breath, "Because I actually have to take care of my hair, unlike some pe..."

The booming clap of thunder overhead made her jump more than a little as both of them were cut off. The center of the storm cell was, for certain, approaching rapidly, and if they didn't find shelter soon... well, she didn't even want to think of the worst.
“We’re going to have to stop for the night. I know they were expecting us to return before darkfall, but it's not happening, not for a while, at least. Next stop we see, we’re stopping, got it?”
She didn't even bother objecting to her brother's suggestion, for once they were in agreement - pushing on in this condition would be a death wish. Unfortunately for Anzi, this did nothing to improve either of their moods as they continued to ride in terse silence.

As they approached the almost forbodingly welcoming light in the distance, it did bring her a small sigh of relief to know that after a day like this, at least she would not have to resort to camping. Outside. With President Grumpypuss. As they approached the light closer and closer, she donned a gradually heavying squint through the pelting rain. She was almost certain there had never been a inn along this road, they weren't far enough from the towns in either direction to merit it... and yet... there it stood.
"Maybe it's some kind of pop-up?" she thought to herself dismissively. An establishment prematurely built to capitalize on an overflow of people traveling to escape the threat of war looming over everyone's heads was definitely not beyond imagination.

Fara's thoughts were interrupted as they rode close and halted, her brother flinging another backhanded request her way.
“Be useful and settle Io in for the night.”
She simply rolled her eyes and gave a reluctant grumble, carefully sliding herself off of the ebony mare's saddle so as to not muss up her now soaked robes (a moot point). He left her with the dirty work as usual, and she watched him sulk into the tavern with mild bitterness. Bitterness that quickly faded into a soft pout and begrudging forgiveness. She couldn't fault him for being frustrated with the situation, nor his condition, she just wished he didn't always have to take it out on her.

"Come on, Io sweetie. Let's get you out of this god-awful weather," she cooed to their ride, taking up her reins and guiding her over to the stable. Out of any of them, it was definitely their faithful steed that got the shortest end of the stick - forced to listen to them bicker the whole ride and having to trudge through mud and rain in the cold. After Fara tied her up and made sure that she would be sheltered, fed, and watered for the night, she elbowed her way through door of the building.

As much warmth blanketed over her shivering body, so too did just as much of a din, as she only turned fully around to meet the ruckus after being fully inside the place, the door creaking solidly shut behind her. Before she had even been able to catch a bead on where that grump of a brother of hers had slunk off to, much less her bearings, she was accosted by a squeaky and rapidly approaching voice. Just as it was near about to run into her face, she finally locked on to its origin: a mangled looking cross between a sprite and an ogre with wings.

"Welcome to the Twisted Inn! Please fill out this survey on how you found us and a signature."

Taken aback by the approaching terror, all she could do was snatch up the paper shunted in her direction. Only after did it meander off back in the direction it had came did she panickingly pry her attention like a whip down to the contents of the paper she was handed. She briefly flipped it back and forth, checking the front and back, but found nothing other than the headers listing the things the pixie asked for - how they found the inn and a signature line - leaving her perplexed. "What in the name of all nine hells...?" she mumbled as she scrounged around in her bag for her writing implements.

"There has to be magic at foot," she reasoned aloud to herself, "there's no way there isn't." As she gazed around at all the comedic assortment of patrons in their various states of enjoyment and/or distress, she finally picked out her brother's singular orange axe-bladed horn poking out from a scattered group near the large fireplace. Clutching the charcoal stick in the same hand as the paper, she gave it little attention while she approached, also wanting to warm up and dry by the fire. She certainly hadn't noticed it filling out the survey on her behalf while she pondered the situation in her mind.
(Initiative: 8)

Moreover, as she had come in just later than her sibling, she hadn't been privy to the blood-curdling scream of an innocent, so she found it weird that as she was wading through an ever-growingly dense crowd of people to get to him, her brother was already suddenly walking toward the front desk. Thinking to join him there, she deftly elbowed her way through the now squeezing crowd clamoring to get to the barmaid behind the counter as well. Finally managing to find a rest near her brother, it seemed she was just in time for him to place the order for some rooms. She looked up at Azni, both looking considerably closer to drowned rats now than the elegant fiendbloods they had at the beginning of this day.
(Initiative: 18)
 
Chapter One: Realization

1679315286544.pngAfter sounding the bell for the guests to grab new quests, the barmaid felt a slight poke at her side causing her to take a few steps back rather quickly. Giving a quick glance down to her side, she noticed someone quite small with such unkempt hair. The barmaid gave a look of disinterest and almost disgust wondering why a child has made their way into the inn, but a second look revealed elven-like ears. While not particularly knowledgeable about elves, she knew age was very different among them.

"Excuse me, miss... Do you guys by any chance sell any fruit juices or maybe some water...?" Fawke said (...) Fawke smiled and waved.

"Sure thing. We have plenty of safe options for those who don't prefer alcohol." The barmaid turned her back on the small elf as another approached the counter. With a quick pull from a stack of wooden mugs that towered behind the counter, the woman grabbed an odd rope covered glass jug from underneath in a cabinet and poured some burgundy looking liquid. Before she could finish pouring the glass, the person that approached spoke up.

“Excuse me, but I’d like to pay for two rooms for the night.”
She glanced over and smiled before turning back around handing the elf his juice. "There you go sweetie. Grape. Everyone loves grape juice straight from the vines. Now, you better gain your energy soon." The barmaid said with a false sense of innocence.

Redirecting her attention to a being that looked as if they just went for a swim, the first thing to notice aside from a singular horn. "Your money is no good here. However, if you go up the stairs in the center hall, there will be two rooms waiting for you with your name on it." Explained with a slight grin. Above the barmaid was an open railing revealing a pitch black portion to the upstairs. No sense of anything up there similar to a black hole. "If you were smart, you would not stay here longer than you needed to..." She said before walking away to entertain someone who seemed to be making a scene.

"Hey lady, the hell kinda business you running here?" He said while holding his hand out as to bring to her attention the crowd of strange people running around like headless chickens. "Not only are ya threatening people, you're lettin em get eaten by.. Whatever the hell that thing is." He pointed at the quest board, which now appeared to just be a normal quest board. (...) He stumbled to the nearest stool, pulled his flask out of his Breast pocket and took a very long swig. "How about you start from the beginning?"

"Well, looks like we have someone who thinks they're the business authority." she shouted back in an uppity tone, almost entertained. "And a drunk..." She muttered but not surprised as many of the guests that wandered in were.

Watching his hand movements motioning the crowd then the quest board, she leaned against a back counter with her bosom resting slightly as it were a seat. She opened up her slight pale arms as if showcasing her bar. "Everyone who walks in, willingly signs up to do my bidding. You want a drink or a room? You pay for it with your lives! " She explained motioning to the one horned being who seemingly now had someone with them of a similar race. The barmaid stared down the man who had many questions with her cold, blue eyes as she approached slowly. With a much quieter tone, "..and don't think about leaving because these doors won't open until you fulfill your contract." Motioning towards his pockets assuming that's where he placed his paper.

Stepping away, she shouted within the inn. "Come on people, we don't have all night if you want to go home. Form your parties and get those ingredients!" Laughing.

[Barmaid has become unapproachable.]

In the distance stood a crowd of people facing the quest board. Some were hesitant and even frightful while others shoved the weak out of their way to get to the board. The mimic would awake as each person, or group would approach giving them a good taste of the tongue. Some appeared fine before jumping through a mysterious portal of sorts that would appear next to the mimic. Others, would fall ill or develop lesions before entering.


  • Format
    quest name - party/interactions - ailment/boon

    your post

    1: No Boon or Ailment
    2-3: Stinging Wound on Left Toe
    4: Resist Poison
    5-6: Second Degree Burn of the Left Arm
    7-8: Mild Poisoning
    9: Mild Fever
    10: Deafness
    11-14: No Boom or Ailment
    15: Allergy to Canines
    16-17: Stomach Ache
    18: Pollen Allergy
    19-20: Increased Senses
 
Last edited:
View attachment 1072491~Fawke Locke - Dippu elf...~
~Bok - Fey chicken...~
~Location The Twisted Inn...~
~Interactions:

Bok watched the tiefling approach with suspicious gaze. Not because he was a tiefling, but because he was approaching them. Bok had trust issues towards anyone she didn't know. The elf below her didn't notice the tiefling until he saw an outstretched arm reach over him. His head tilted back to see what was up there. Turning to see the face connected to that arm, was a tiefling. Tieflings in general looked scary, but he remembered one in his travels. A very kind man that explained how not all tieflings were evil. Fawke understood this, but the man towering over him still looked scary. Fawke was an easily frightened lil elf, so this didn't mean much of anything.

"Oh dear..." Fawke said looking up. He looked back at the bar maid with a cheery grin, reassuring him,, they had plenty non-alcoholic beverages. It was a pleasant thought. He watched her pour the drink into a glass. Burgandy and pretty in color. Grape juice. A silent gasp as he reached out and grabbed it with both hands.

"Thank ya kindly miss!" Fawke said. He carefully walked around the tiefling. He saw another tiefling as he went to sit down. He glanced over at her. Mug in hands and Fey Chicken on head. Fawke walked over to the table where the woman had sat by herself. He slid his mug on the table. and looked over the top of the table.

"Hope you don't mind if I sit here, is that okay? I promise I won't make too much noise"
He said. He climbed onto the chair. The Table was still up to his chest. It was clearly meant or bigger people. He leaned his mug over to drink his grape juice. Much like how he promised, he didn't make much noise nor did he spill a drop. A belly full or juice and a mind full of thoughts of adventure and quests and more. She told the guy behind him that his money was no good and there were rooms with their names on it. But how?! They only just got there and the survey! Did Fawke too have a room...? He didn't ask but he could presume it was also upstairs. He looked around for the stairs until he spotted them.

"Sorry for being nosey, but.... Are you an adventurer too?" Fawke asked Ankerita.
 
Anziium Aravyre
Interactions: ThAtGuY101 ThAtGuY101 Lost Echo Lost Echo
Mentions: BeegYoshi BeegYoshi

Despite his attitude being permanently set in a foul mood, Anziium at the very least had enough manners to wait for the barmaid’s attention to be diverted his way. In the meantime, his gaze strayed once more to the Dippu elf seated beside him. The tiefling held nothing against elves, nothing at all, to be honest. As a matter of fact, his father had originally been born an elf before passing away and being reincarnated into a tiefling body; this kept him in close ties with elves, given that his closer family consisted of them. Now, he had never seen this subrace of elves, at least not that he could remember. None of his distant relatives born such a short stature, thsu leading him to believe the male before him was relatively young.

Bronze eyes meeting Fawke’s, the tiefling’s bladed tail twitched slightly, sensing that he was making the younger one uneasy. He had half the mind to growl at the little thing, show a little of that tiefling stereotype. Yet, by the time he had thought about it, the barmaid had finally sauntered over his way. Finally. I’m ready to get out of these sodden clothes.

"Your money is no good here. However, if you go up the stairs in the center hall, there will be two rooms waiting for you with your name on it." Explained with a slight grin. Above the barmaid was an open railing revealing a pitch black portion to the upstairs. No sense of anything up there similar to a black hole. "If you were smart, you would not stay here longer than you needed to..."

“Wait…what?” The male questioned, brows knitting together in confusion. Their gold was perfectly good if that’s what she meant. It was most certainly real, he had checked when they had made the transaction with the customer who bought the war stallion earlier in the day. Hand slowly closing around the gold, he looked confusedly towards the stairway she had mentioned. How would she have managed to get his name? He certainly hadn’t given it, nor did he know this woman. So how in the nine hells did she already have it on the door if that was the case? She would only proceed to confuse him further as she spoke, urging him not to stay too long before walking towards another customer.

Left at the bartop with a minorly rattled mind, Anziium turned to stare as she walked off, not really certain what had happened in their conversation. As he was about to slide back down the counter to her to ask her what exactly she meant, Fara approached his side. Turning her way, he gestured to the barmaid, confusing beginning to turn into irritation. “Did you catch any of that? First she claims our money isn’t good here but turns around and claims we already have rooms. What’s that supposed to mean? Did you already speak to her while I was at the fireplace?” He questioned his sister, standing to pull her sleeve as he approached the barmaid and the other man. If she were to walk away like that, he saw nothing wrong in butting into the conversation to get answers.

As they approached, he managed to catch the tailend of the conversation, only causing him to halt in his tracks. So much of what she just said sent red flags through his mind. Okay, nope. Nuh uh. They weren’t about to get caught up in this sort of mess. They’d just have to ride home through the rain and deal with gettin sick. To hell sitting here with that shit.

Without saying anything at all to Fara, knowing she had the common sense to know this was bad shit, Anziium yanked her away from the counter and towards the door. That guy and whoever else could stay here and deal with this business, but they wouldn’t. Dropping his sister’s sleeve, he went to twist the knob of the door but it refused to even spin. It was set still, almost as though he were attempting to move a stone statue. Next came the yanking, the banging, the shoving, and the eventually kicking. The door absolutely wasn’t moving at all. Rubbing frustatedly at his face, the tiefling momentarily gave up as he turned to scan the tavern. “Okay, you can keep trying the door if you want, but I can’t get it to open. I'm going to find someone else and see what the hell is going on here. If anyone even knows-” He called back over to Fara as he hurried off, hunting for others that looked just as lost as he felt.

His searching would lead him to a nearly empty table, only two individuals sitting amongst it. His eyes grew wider as the elf from earlier had come down to sit here. If they were comfortable enough to order then surely that meant he knew something they didnt. Surely? Not certain in the least bit, Anziium slowly made his way to the table, taking the time to stuff down his mounting panic. Now, where he wasn’t strong enough to break down a door, he was well off in pretending everything was fine.

As he approached the table, he walked up with a smaller grin before sliding into a seat next to the woman. “Hello!” He breathed, steepling his hands affront himself on the table. “We were stopping in for the night and well, my sister and I aren’t certain what this uh…’show’ is about?” Because surely, this was just entertainment of some sort, right?

"Come on people, we don't have all night if you want to go home. Form your parties and get those ingredients!"

“Ah yes, that. What exactly does that mean? I don’t believe I understand what she means by being able to return home. We were simply on our way home and wanted a room for the night but she won’t let me pay her in gold. Is there something else I should be using?
 
Having put her head in her hands, wondering why this all felt so real. Her imagination outside of dress patterns should not care enough for such details as this dent in this table. She couldn’t imagine what made it but could feel the rounded edge, worn smooth with time.
"Hope you don't mind if I sit here, is that okay? I promise I won't make too much noise"
Raising her head Ankerita saw a child climbing (literally!) into the seat across from her. Blinking, she replied on automatic, “It’s not like we have quiet here,” for the noises of those fighting at the quest board could well be heard, (and why? Shouldn’t sound rise and fall with her attention?) “As long as you keep the peace, you’re welcome.” She waited, wondering what the twist this newcomer would bring. Except he was quiet. Near silent, as he drank his fill. What a well mannered child.

Instead, her attention was taken by a drunk, belligerently demanding answers. You could always trust him to ask what everyone wonders. The barmaid, a pretty young thing, answered as expected of a nightmare.

"Everyone who walks in, willingly signs up to do my bidding. You want a drink or a room? You pay for it with your lives! "
Strangely, the witch did not end in a cackle as expected. Instead a demonic looking man (except for the colors, those were reserved for his companion) stormed past her to the door. Much more vigorously than even she’d managed, he attempted the door. Surprisingly, it was as immovable as the wall beside it likely was…perhaps she could try it? Dreams were strange. Still, wouldn’t it be more frightening to be the only one trapped in here?

She pondered that question as he slowly approached. He had horns unlike any animal she’d seen and a tail, but he was dressed like young lording, though drenched through. Which was odd. It hadn’t rained in days. Why include that detail? She calmly watched as sat down beside her, switching her satchel to her other side to give him room.

“We were stopping in for the night and well, my sister and I aren’t certain what this uh…’show’ is about?”
Sister. Well those were some unlucky genes. She wondered why he used ‘show’ for what entertainment did this tavern have? Earlier there may have been music, but now the only bard she could see was pacing like an expectant father whose wife barely survived the last one.

The barmaid repeated her threat, again sans cackle, but Ankerita kept her attention on this demonic lording, trying to parse his meaning at least. A room? Payment? Gold, not coppers? How fancy was her dream trying to make this place? By this point, she was merely hoping the nightmare would finish. Confusion was not her terror.

Deciding to just answer, she nodded, “A room might not do me much good; I live in town, but I can see why you’d need a change of clothes. I’ve never had to pay for more than lost sleep to a nightmare, so I canne help you there.” With a shrug, she continued, “Right now, I’m wond’ring where the giant be. By now, it’s usually come to kill all those I know and love. Though a tavern full of monsters, beggin’ your pardon my lord,” for it never hurt to be polite, “is a new one.
 
After hearing what the barmaid had to say, Curtis sat in silence, taking in the reality of the situation. He reached into his pocket where he haphazardly stuffed the sheet of paper to pull it out and uncrumple it into a legible state. Everything he had seen written out before was now gone, replaced with an odd list of random items. The look on his face shifted from irritation to concern. He knew whatever was going on here, there was more to it than what showed at the surface. He took another long swig from his flask, then capped it off and placed it back in his breast pocket along with the list. Then he let out a dramatic sigh of exhaustion while he dragged himself to his feet.

"Alright, let's go check out this "quest board"" he said aloud to no one in particular. He was too tired to question anything at the moment. He only knew a few things for certain. One, he was somehow trapped here. How exactly, he wasn't sure. For what reason, also wasn't sure. The other thing, was that there's more to this bar lady than she's letting on. It wouldn't do any good to waste time trying to figure it out right now. It would be the best course of action to just play along until he had more information.

He walked through the slightly calmed down but still rowdy crowd of adventurers. He took note of several noteworthy folk, listening to their conversations, trying to see who was worth their weight in a job. If he had to party up with someone, he sure as hell didn't want to babysit. He could have sworn he'd seen an actual child at one of the tables.

Within a few feet from his destination of the quest board, he spotted an odd looking humanoid that sort of resembled a cat. He didn't know what it was, but he felt there was something odd about them. Their eyes locked immediately and the cat who's face even though was mostly obstructed, appeared to be pleased to have done so. They both approached each other, giving the other a slight nod. The feline then asked if Curtis wanted to purchase some "skooma" for his journey. He looked at the cat person blankly for a few seconds before speaking up. "Uhh... I'm sorry, some what? What even is that?"
 
d54ro0y-8cb1a389-3ed8-4494-a7e3-409924bd1b3b.jpg With a quick reveal from their best pocket, a small mulberry colored vial with an odd wrap sits in their hand. "Ah, skooma." They mentioned with an unfamiliar accent.

The bottle had a strong, intoxicating sweet scent similar to that of sake that had sat opened too long.

"You take, for the small price of something shiny?" The feline creature said with a grin. Their asking price was non-specific yet simple.


Will you exchange something shiny for Skooma?

+ Gain 1 Free Assist for Upcoming Quest.
- Develop a temporary withdraw. Illness followed by vomiting and fever until your next Quest.

Triggered by BeegYoshi BeegYoshi
 
Anziium Aravyre
Interacting: Lost Echo Lost Echo
Mentioning: BeegYoshi BeegYoshi

“Ah, so you live in Belvedere, then?” He cocked his head, thinking back to the city in which they had just returned from. Honestly, it wasn’t that far from here. “Well, I most definitely see not wanting to bear through that rain out there, no matter how short the distance home. It’s coming in a downpour.” Anziium sighed, taking notice of the growing pool beneath him on the bench. It frankly was growing on his nerves that he had to like this; forget the annoyance, it was certain undignified to look like a drowned rat. If only he knew someone that could dry his clothes for him without much effort involved. A dirty glance was shot his sister’s way.

Returning his attention back to the individuals at hand, his brows furrowed deeply at her words. He’d never heard of a giant rampaging in town; they were most generally quiet creatures that kept to themselves, only really growing angry if one encroached upon their territory. One coming into town to destroy the population was unheard of.

About to correct her of such a thing, he was minorly taken aback at the sudden point out of his race. Frankly he couldn’t tell if she were insulting him or not at this point. Considering people spoke of ‘monsters’ in hushed whispers he felt a bit annoyed at her. “Tieflings are not monsters.” He murmured lowly, his pleasant grin dropping into a disgusted snarl, bladed tail stirring slowly like one of a distressed feline.

Before he could get too riled up, he caught a glance of the male from the bar taking a glance at the questboard. Right, Anziium had come over here to speak with them about the mentioning of ingredients and getting back home. He surely hoped this was some kind of joke, as he wasn’t one to play games of any sort. And what of this ingredient list? He hadn’t even received one…unless. Ignoring any remarks of Ankerita, Anziium withdrew the crumbled ball of paper from his pocket, unwadding it to read what exactly had been on it. He hadn’t even really read it when the pixie hadn’t it to him, nor had planned to. Yet now, as he smoothed out the paper upon the table, there it sat: a list of ingredients, plain as day. “She can’t be serious. This is some..some play or something of the sort, correct? In which case, my sister and I do not wish to take part and would like the door opened immediately. We’ll take our business elsewhere.” He huffed, speaking to no one in particular as he scanned the ingredients.
 
Fawke.png~Fawke Locke - Dippu elf...~
~Bok - Fey chicken...~
~Location The Twisted Inn...~
~Interactions: TheCrowKing TheCrowKing Lost Echo Lost Echo




Fawke sat there. Ever so often leaning his mug over to drink more of the grape juice from it. Bok was the first to spot him, the tiefling from earlier. The chicken stared at the man through nearly quiet unblinking eyes for a few moments. Before turning to look at Ankerita, then randomly into space. Fawke saw the Tiefling come over, and gave him a friendly wave and exchanged smiles.

"... Hello!" Fawke said cheerfully.

"Gee, I'm not sure either... One minute I'm heading through town and some people I was talking to spoke about this place and... Here I am...!" Fawke said explaining why he came there. Fawke hadn't been heading anywhere specifically and had been curiously traveling and adventuring to his delight. Though admittedly, he was growing more curious and curious as to what his room may look like.

"Come to think of it... The lady never charged me for my drink. Maybe she wants you do pay in friendship!" Fawke said excitedly leaning against the table. He sat back down and placed his hand on his chin.

"But I dunnoooo... Maybe theres something more to this...? Hmmm. Beats me!" Fawke said before taking another sip from his mug. Fawke looked over at Ankerita who seemed just fine with him being there as long as he behaved himself. Which was fine by him, because that was his intention in the first place. He smiled and nodded.

"Thankyou" He told her before taking another sip from his drink. He listened to Ankerita and Anziium speak and Ankerita use the word 'monster'. Anziium seemed to take notice and offense to this. Fawke did not know either of them well enough to butt into that can of worms. He continued to look around. Bok was doing what Bok did best, chicken noises. He looked over at Anziium.

"It's okay, stranger. I don't think you're a monster" Fawke said smiling.
 
“Ah, so you live in Belvedere, then?”
Belvedere? I’ve never heard of such a place. You’re in Redspire under King Harold’s protection, my dear. No dream of mine’d be anywhere else.” She frowned as he mentioned the weather again, “I’ve no idea where your rain came from. Perhaps it started after I came in?” Shaking her head at the thought of letting a little water keep her from home, “If I were not already in bed, nothin’d stop me from getting into it. I have the girls to care for come morning.
The lady never charged me for my drink. Maybe she wants you do pay in friendship!"
Ah, his parents likely paid in advance. The child’s innocence was endearing, even if she wondered why he’d be in her dream. But none of this was making any sense, so she merely gave him a smile. “Well, you’re welcome to stay here by my side for as long as you’d like.
“Tieflings are not monsters.”
Ankerita flinched back at the snarl, not knowing such a look could come onto such a human face. “Beggin’ your pardon, milord. I meant no disrespect.” She didn’t want this conversation to tip into violence, even if some were inevitable in her nightmare, still, her armor seemed to stiffen in defense of her. “Just ne’er seen folk like you before. Round here, people are sensi--well, colors like me, a few shades darker if they be working in the sun, but no one turns greys or blues unless they’ve left if you take my meanin’.
"It's okay, stranger. I don't think you're a monster"
She nodded, fear still in her voice, “Listen to the child, they see the truth when others don’t.” She kept stiff even as the mon--he called himself a teefling, so she should use that. Perhaps even ask for a name. Still, she was wary as he pulled out a crumpled-up parchment (what wealth he must have to discard it so easily.) Tentatively hoping the conversation truly had shifted, she questioned, “You got one too?” She wanted to ask if his was all magic-like, writing then disappearing but felt unsure of mentioning more strangeness. Which was ridiculous, this was a dream.

The thought of this as a show was strange enough to warm her tongue, “You mean like a play?” She looked around, “This innae like any play I’ve heard of.” For she’d never seen one. She was no noble, like this man, but was learned enough to know of them. “I doubt that door’s going to open. Seems to fit the theme of this dream. Though none of this is normal. My nightmares this past week have all been about the giant. Could this be just a strange dream?

TheCrowKing TheCrowKing ThAtGuY101 ThAtGuY101
 
Fawke.png~Fawke Locke - Dippu elf...~
~Bok - Fey chicken...~
~Location The Twisted Inn...~
~Interactions: Lost Echo Lost Echo




"Belvedere? I've never heard of it either. It sounds beautiful though" Fawke said. He also didn't know who King Harold was but decided not to ask. He smiled at Ankerita as she told him he could stick around as long as he wants.

"Thank ya kindly, miss! I appreciate the offer, and might take you up on that" He said grinning larger. He looked at her though with a puzzled expression when she tried describing non-gray and blue folk. She seemed to have good intentions and didn't mean to offend anyone so he overlooked it. She must not have got out much is what he thought. He chuckled when Ankerita called him a child. He was young but he wasn't that young.

"A-actually I'm twenty-two, heh heh! Though compared to some elves I might as well be a child cause that's still pretty young, but I have bunchles of alchemy experience!" He said cheerfully. Fawke picked up his mug and finished the last of the grape juice. Bok peered her head into the mug to see it was empty. Turning her head side to side to confirm multiple times that was indeed true. He pulled a few seeds from his pocket and held it high so Bok could enjoy it. He paused as he thought about it for a moment.

"My names Fawke! Fawke Locke and this is Bok!" Fawke said.

"Bokok!!" Bok yelled.

"A giant?! Thst sounds something awful fierce scary! I don't want no nothing to do with no giant. Get squished. Yikes. Unless it's a friendly giant but I don't know any of those..." Fawke said nervously. He had hoped her dream was just that. A bad nightmare, but for now it didn't matter now because there weren't any nearby.
 
Will you exchange something shiny for Skooma?
Curtis was already fishing around in his pockets the instant he caught the scent of this "skooma". He had assumed the cat wanted some money when he said something shiny so he pulled his wallet out and scooped out a couple silver coins to exchange for the vial. Just because his money wasn't good with the bar lady, didn't mean it wasn't good for this particular transaction. He held the coins up in the air between his thumb and finger, shining them against the light to confirm they were in fact shiny. The second they swapped goods, the vial of liquid was already pouring down Curtis' throat. The taste didn't register with him at all, tasting foreign yet familiar. Not that it mattered though as he didn't savor the flavor for long. Curtis thanked the cat person and turned his attention towards the quest board with a new sense of motivation after that shot of "skooma".

On his way over to the quest board, he noticed that there already seemed to be a few groups of people forming parties. He took note of them, not really taking the time to fully analyze them. He knew full well to not judge people based on their appearances. A few odd individuals did stand out though, and he couldn't deny his interest was piqued ever so slightly. Now wasn't the time to be playing the 20 questions with the inn goers. Before he realized it, he was mere feet of the quest board. He scanned it for potential jobs he could knock out with no issues and his eyes caught one rather swiftly.
Plant-like monsters are attacking a small village of puppies, who apparently speak. Destroy the plant-like monsters and save the puppies!
"Perfect, sounds like my kinda gig" He said aloud to himself. The reward just happened to line up with one of the ingredients he needed for his escape list, so it all worked out. After a moment, he realized a crucial point. How was he supposed to save this village if he couldn't leave the inn? "Sooooo... how does this work exactly?" He asked no one in particular, looking around to see if anyone had any clue.
 
Anziium Aravyre
Interacting: Lost Echo Lost Echo ThAtGuY101 ThAtGuY101

“No.” He countered, voice retaining its irritation, almost as if he were attempting to correct a know-it-all child. “We’re between Belvedere and Thoigard. I should know, given I rode through here earlier in the day to deliver a warhorse in Belvedere. And what are you talking about a King Harold? This is the domain of the high elven Queen Talindra. Not some…Harold.” A scoff escaped him at the thought of such a thing. The poor, foolish girl was out of her mind. Never had there been a King Harold. It sounded like a human name, and there was no way, not given an elven lifespan, that there’d ever be a human man on the throne.

Parting his lips to continue enlightening her, he paused as she went on about this being something of a dream. There was no way it would be such a thing, not given what he dreamt about. This was surely reality, he just knew it was. “You halfwitted girl. Why would you be dreaming something such as this? How could your mind create someone such as myself if you truly know nothing of tieflings? You’re not dreaming. We. Are. Trapped.” Anziium spoke very pointedly, rubbing at his temples as a headache began to form, almost as if he could sense that she wouldn’t believe him and continue on.

If she isn’t familiar with any of these things, does that mean she’s not from here? How’d she get here to Belvedere then? He pondered, opening his tired gaze to listen to the child speak. “Wait, you’re not a child? I’ve never seen such a vertically challenged subspecies of elf. Unless you’re a half bred?” Dropping his hands from his temples, his brows furrowed as he turned his full attention to Fawke, feeling as though Ankerita was a deadend for answers.

“You’re not familiar with anything I just said, are you? If that’s the case, where is it you are from? Not here, I assume.” If the elf truly was from somewhere else, what did that say about this tavern? Uncomfortable with what that might potentially mean, Anziium returned his gaze to the ingredients list at hand. “I don’t believe the barmaid intends for your everyday payment, Fawke-” Given what she mentioned of paying with your life and collecting ingredients to return home, he highly doubted it.

“Do you have one of these lists as well? If so, I believe we’re all in the same boat. And in which case, I believe I’d rather get this over with to return back to my home. If you’ll excuse me, I do need to find my sister so we might begin looking for a group.” Offering a hand to Fawke for a handshake, Anzi stood from the table to begin his search for Fara. “For the record-” His bronze gaze cast a distasteful glance at Ankerita. “Calling something other than a human a monster isn’t going to get you far if you’re trapped in here with us.” With that, he sauntered away from the table, briefly wondering if he’d be seeing the two again.
 
Ankerita was not a fool. She was practical and willing to let others lead, but she would not let herself be insulted. Scowling, she stood calling to get his attention. “Very well. Let’s say I’m here. Awake. This inn, which holds no one from my town, appeared right where Young Samuel used Ol’ Agnes’s money to build one. It full of teeflings and beings I never even heard of.” For all she knew, teeflings were what all these things were. She nodded to Fawke, “or men who look like--are the size of children, no offense meant truly, Mr. Fawke.” Returning her attention to the horned man, she continued, “Let’s say I truly am so unlucky that this woman,” she gestured to the barmaid, “wants me to…I don’t know, go on a quest for troll snot?” She shook her head, it was getting more ridiculous, “What then? I’m a tailor. Why trap me? I work with folk who can’t pay. We figure something out, no one leaves my store without clothes. I’m a respected member of the town, but I am no noble. No one would pay a ransom for me.” She shook her head, turning around to sit again. “It’s this situation that’s wrong. None of it makes sense.” She turned back for just a moment, “And I apologize again for my words, I didn’t know there could be anything other than a human until you spoke.

Sitting down in a huff, she turned to the chi-young man. “Nonetheless, the man is right. We appear to be trapped and the only way is through.” She looked down at her list, frowning. “I’ve heard of any of these, of course, but I do not think they would be in one place. Unless trolls associate with unicorns.” She looked at the boy, trying to see adult features in the fey face. She decided to treat him like a new hire. Many of those were young, but as they were working for themselves, she treated them the same as the others. “What of you? I assume you’re from a different place than Mr. Teefling and I, if he did not recognize you either.” Shaking her head, “If this is real I’m going to die, so perhaps I should just get your free drink and sit here. The only fightin’ experience I have was done by pure dumb luck. This “sword” on my hip is merely a joke.” Her face darkened with despair. Even as her armor tightened into a hug.

Shaking her head, she focused fully on Fawke, "Do you have any fighting experience?" She knew of children brawling, so perhaps. But he seemed so small to be taken too. "Mr. Teefling likely has been trained since he was young as a noble, so at least he shouldn't be so worried. Though for his sister, who knows. Most maidens I know aren't, but we've already established nothing I know fits here."
 
~Fawke Locke - Dippu elf...~
~Bok - Fey chicken...~
~Location The Twisted Inn...~
~Interactions: TheCrowKing TheCrowKing Lost Echo Lost Echo

Fawke looked back and fourth as Anziium argued with Ankerita. They both felt confident that the other was wrong about their directions. Fawke was too scared to comment on that. The fact that he never heard of either location, meant he had no clue what to think of it. Then the tiefling asked Fawke why he was so short.

"Vertically cha- Half br-" Fawke was so shocked and taken aback that he couldn't form proper sentences. Mouth so wide, that you could catch flies with it. He slumped down against the table, face down with a look of defeat. Bok leaped up into the air, and landed on the back of Fawke's head. She pecked Fawke on the back of the head for making her adjust herself, but Fawke did not react to this.

"Never before have I ever witnessed such blatant disrespect in my whole l-life. I'm a Dippu elf, can't you see...? I'm pretty average size compared to my fellow island elfkin" Fawke said. Then he asked where Fawke was from. Fawke tilted his head to look over at him, then cleared his throat.

"I've never heard of this high queen or King Harold. The only King I know is Elf-King Lorandhor. King of Maldare Elogia. That's where I'm from! Maldare Elogia. The Island not far south of here. You can't miss it. Dippu river wraps around it, hence the name" Fawke said cheerfully lifting his head back up. Forcing Bok to fly up and land atop of his head. Pecking him two times for doing it again. He thought about what the tiefling said. Not paying with everyday payments. Fawke nodded his head when Anziium asked about his ingredient list. He looked at Anziium's hand for a few moments before reaching out to shake it. When the handshake was formed, Bok would land on top off their hands and join in. Fawke looked to Ankerita. Occasionally nodding as he listened to her speak.

"It is what it is" He replied to her size comment. He felt bad for the girl. Surely her fighting abilities weren't as bad as she had thought they were. Then she asked him about his own fighting abilities. He smiled them pulled out his three ft staff. A beautiful elegant carved staff, elven in design clearly. He held it out, grinning proudly.

"I got a stick! I his stuff with it! One time I scared two goblins off with it. And another time I fought a wolf, and won!" He said, crossing his arms, and leaning back in his chair, looking extra confident in his capabilties. His staff fell over and bopped him in the head. He rubbed his scalp for a minute before leaning it against the chair.

"I'm also a an alchemist and healer. Well... Healer in training. I have a little healing... Experience. Not a lot but I'm getting there...!" Fawke said nervously, scratching the back of his head.
 
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Hthul’orpsyd’janede "Jane" Kw'e

analogimadigitaldog.jpeg

Yognoroth's Lounge was a small tavern, wedged between two tall office buildings. Strolling through damp city streets, occasionally jerking her shoulders to keep her guitar aligned, Jane swiveled her head back and forth, searching for any bar that met her friend's description. Many of his instructions were similarly vague and sweepingly general; 'oh, you can't miss it, it stands out. It's got this post out front, you'd know it if you saw it. It's right past that thing I always drive past in town, you know what I'm talking about, the thing?' She couldn't blame him; it wasn't easy to give directions to someone with no starting point. Last night, Jane had fallen asleep sprawled across the floor of her van, feet hanging out of the trunk, parked beside the beach. On warm summer days, it was second only to sleeping under the stars, blanketed by the sand.

She had set out on foot more than an hour ago, intending to arrive to the jam session a few minutes before starting, but according to the journey of the black hole across the sky, her friends were likely more than halfway through their stage time at that point. Despite her lateness, Jane swung her arms as she traipsed along, with no intention to pick her pace up to anything past leisurely. Along the way, she stopped a few times to admire the florescent lights of lit offices cutting through the darkness of the day. It couldn't be helped now, besides, she could go without tips for one more night.

She was preparing to dart across an alleyway when she caught something at the edge of her vision. Sitting right in the middle of the alley was a bar. She grinned and sighed out her relief. It took her long enough! It was a bit of an odd place to build a bar, where cars were expected to pass through, but before she could concern herself with thoughts about zoning disputes and building privileges, she was skipping towards it. It certainly looked legitimate, if a bit small, and it was between two office buildings, and that was good enough for her.

Pulling open the wooden door, she had to duck slightly to avoid bumping her head on the low threshold. Immediately, she was hit with the sounds of life and revelry, from clinking classes to shrieking laughter. Compared to the muggy night outside, the dry, temperate air of the inn was welcoming, drawing her in even more than the lighthearted atmosphere or the sweet smell of liquor. She quickly scanned the crowd, an easy feat for a girl of her size, but to her dismay, there was no sign of her jam buds, or a stage, or any other Melanopods for that matter. In fact, what was with this crowd?

She spotted everything from feathery wings to horns and scales to weird, beige skinned, five fingered creatures, an assortment of diversity she'd never seen before in her life. Was it New Years Eve and she missed the memo? Did she skip meditation and stumble straight into a higher plane of being? Right as she was debating whether or not to stay, holding the door open with one hand, a tiny voice managed to cut through the cacophony.

"Welcome to the Twisted Inn! Please fill out this survey on how you found us and a signature."

She had to whip her head around to find the source of the sound before she spotted it, a little green... thing, holding a sheet of paper in her hand. It was the closest thing to a Melanopod she had spotted in all of 11 seconds. She was hit with a momentary pang of shock, but as soon as it passed, her small talk cannons were locked and loaded. She put a hand on her thigh and bent over to get on the being's level.

"Hi there, pipsqueak! Man you guys are busy tonight, ey? This big ole crowd and they got you working the door, huh? Hah, I bet that's a real-" Before she could continue shooting off at the mouth, the pipsqueak turned and flitted off, disappearing into the crowd. "Bit rude..." She stood back up straight.

Turning her attention to the survey she'd been handed, she held it up to her nose, attempting to make out the fine print, squinting past her profound near-sightedness. Then, as soon as she read the questions to herself and thought of an answer, she had just begun to step towards the bar and search for a writing utensil, the letters and words on the page seemed to shift, until the answers appeared to fill themselves out. In the same glance, she gazed past the barmaid, where sheets of paper were appearing behind her, seemingly out of thin air!

"Woah!" She held the paper at an arms length, almost as if she were worried about whatever sorcery on it would irradiate onto her if she held it too close. "Is this some sort of magicians den?!" Her exclamations fell into the noise of the crowd without an answer, and no one turned to laugh and say 'gotcha'. She even glanced at the corners of the ceilings, checking for any tricky hidden cameras, but again, nothing. All of the bar's patrons seemed pre-occupied, either with trying to get the barmaid's attention, shouting over the crowds or swarming around a cork board towards the back of the room, and she was the out-of-place squid, caught in a swarm of fish moving with a current she couldn't quite feel and didn't understand.

The only table that seemed even a bit approachable was halfway full, occupied by a few tense-looking creatures, only slightly more friendly looking than some of the horrors that roamed the Inn. She approached, leaning a hand against her cocked hip, and spoke to no one in particular.

"Man, I can't make heads or tails of this place! Can you guys? I think I got turned around walking down Main Street, cause this doesn't look like any dive I've ever played in. Seems like a great night for it though, wherever this is! Are you guys from around here? How about you, how's the bottom of the ocean this time of year?" She turned her attention towards a horned being making his way away from the table, before snorting to herself and giving him a goofy gesture that implied she was joking.

Interactions: TheCrowKing TheCrowKing ThAtGuY101 ThAtGuY101 Lost Echo Lost Echo
 
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raf,750x1000,075,t,FFFFFF_97ab1c12de.jpg BeegYoshi BeegYoshi
Upon speaking to seemingly no one, the quest board comes to life with glimmering violet eyes. While there were no pupils, you could sense that the creature was staring down at you. A giant grin breaks upon from the center revealing long, carnivorous teeth and a slimey tongue rolls out. Giving a slight moment to build some tension, the board takes its tongue and licks the side of your face. Before long, you start suffering from a mild stomach ache, though manageable. Strangely, the mimic begins to act strange after licking you due to your scent and becomes aggressive. No one was able to stop the mimic board before gobbling you up out of an aggressive hunger.
{CURTIS} Aethereal Scent: Due to the other worldly nature of his kind, most Altered give off a distinct scent to those of similar nature. Normal humans or races on par with humans perceive this smell as some sort of cologne. Any beasts, monsters, dragons and the like (or in the case of his world, Nightmares) take this scent as a sign of aggression and will most likely attack on sight. Not a very strong smell by any means, and can be easily masked by a large enough group or other pungent scents. This is an inherent ability tied to his race.

There is only darkness in your view, a cold waning darkness. From a distance, you hear a familiar voice;
"He just arrived! Take our guest to his quest you foolish piece of wood!" yelled the barmaid.

You are not dead, yet. The barmaid had saved you.
A flash of light startles you before you are transported into an unfamiliar world.

Entering a world of bright blue skies and soft green grass, a gentle breeze could be felt caressing your cheeks like a nice welcoming. To your left, there is an average forest that is highly dense and there could be no indicator on what lurks behind the trees. The leaves are swaying but you hear what sounds like soft whispers coming from the forest. Strange, you're certainly not close enough to be hearing any sort of whispering nor is anyone around you. To the right, there is a small hill covered in small white flowers with unlimited possibilities behind it. From the distance, you hear barking as if there were an army of dogs. What will you do?

A. Investigate the Forest - proceed as you would entering the forest.
B. Investigate the Hill - proceed as you would reaching the top of the hill.

Ailments Curtis is suffering from a minor stomach ache.
Curtis is suffering from feeling drunk due to Skooma.
Curtis will suffer from Skooma withdraw in 2 Turns.
 
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:bishiesparklesr:Faralynn :bishiesparklesl:
Faralynn Aravyre.jpg
Interacting with Barmaid RitualDeadlyf RitualDeadlyf , Anzi TheCrowKing TheCrowKing , every other non-eaten PC briefly
Location: Twisted Inn


"Your money is no good here. However, if you go up the stairs in the center hall, there will be two rooms waiting for you with your name on it." Explained with a slight grin.

Taken aback by the barmaid's statements, Fara's face scrunched up in confusion. What she possibly could have meant by not wanting to stay there long left a small seed of worry in the tiefling's stomach. Dozens of possible reasons ran through her mind as to why an establishment would want to drive away business yet welcome them in, and only some of them did not nurture that seed. This worry quickly grew to dread as her eyes followed the barmaid's gesture up toward the hallway past the banister on the floor above her.

Above the barmaid was an open railing revealing a pitch black portion to the upstairs. No sense of anything up there similar to a black hole. "If you were smart, you would not stay here longer than you needed to..."

Greeting her gaze was the maw of seemingly infinite expanse of darkness. The very void itself staring back from beyond the carved pillars of the railing, as if a wild and dangerous monster were caged up. That was when the drunkard from earlier she had only taken a passing glance at also stormed up to the counter to yell at the matron. His words were of people getting eaten by some kind of creature. The barmaid gestured toward the tiefling pair, her words clinging on the air like frost on a window. "You pay for it with your lives!"

"Come on people, we don't have all night if you want to go home. Form your parties and get those ingredients!" Laughing.

The words hit her like a one-two punch, shell-shocking her. What's this about an ingredients list? What does she MEAN if they want to go home?! Her worry was about to blossom into a full panic as she was yanked by the sleeve toward the door they entered from by her brother. Still in a bit of a trance until he addressed her again, she blinked as he spoke, seeming to have soft-reboot her brain. "S... Stuck?"

“Okay, you can keep trying the door if you want, but I can’t get it to open. I'm going to find someone else and see what the hell is going on here. If anyone even knows-”

"R-right, I'll go... check the rooms... then..." she trailed off, him already having left to go interrogate the other denizens. Turning toward the stairs with a nervous swallow of her dry throat, the barmaid's words replayed over and over in her mind. She tried her best to grip herself to the task at hand. "Right. It's just some rooms, it's just a tavern. Hall's probably just poorly lit is all. It is the middle of the night and there was a storm, it wouldn't be unreasonable if a draft had just snuffed out the candles up there, right? Right??" she began frantically murmuring to herself to still her nerves and justify away the ominous and foreboding feelings that wrapped her like her rain-soaked cloak. Both would be nice to be out of, for a moment.

Once she made it the bottom landing, Fara began ascending the stairs. They seemed well maintained, not decaying and rickety like the last place she had been stuck in, which was a relief in its own right. Each step however felt heavier than the last. Another swallow as she reached the top. The darkness seeming to be almost painted onto the floors and halls in front of her gave her pause. Tracing a small red rune in the air, she shakily recited a spell's words. "By light of a candle in the night, guide me."

As soon as the last word left her mouth, she whipped the glyph toward the top of her staff, causing a large candlelight to sprout from the air above the tip. It danced and flickered, mirroring her own hesitance about proceeding forward. She had to, however. It was all just silly incidents around her, surely there would be some explanation for this all momentarily. She had to prove to herself that she wasn't trapped in another terrifying realm against her will again. The light of the candle was almost swallowed whole by the pitch blackness in front of her as she began to press on in spite of herself. "Feels incredibly irresponsible to simply leave doused candles out. Someone could trip in the middle of the night and hurt themselves," she mumbled, blissfully ignorant of the literal man-eating quest board mere dozens of meters behind her

Going up into the hall, there's limited light follow by complete darkness in the majority of the area. (...) A breeze comes sweeping past you, greeting your arrival with small flickers of flame coming to life revealing wooden doors with your name (and Anzi's) on it. Standard wooden with iron hinges.

"...Ah. Y-yeah there you go. That uh... that should do it." She could barely get the stunned words out as she found herself reaching for the handle. Every instinct in her told her that she should run as fast and far away from here as possible - grab Anzi and just jump out a window or something. She pressed on anyway, almost out of blind stupidity at this point, grasping the handle firmly and swinging it open, traps or monsters be damned.

Upon entering, you will see a twin size bed with a crimson comforter and white sheets. There's a wooden, handcrafted dresser with a single candle that never seems to go down. Fara, specifically, finds a torn piece a paper.

Giving a quick but thorough survey of the room from the doorway, she set down her bag in front of the open door, making sure it didn't shut behind her for fear of being trapped inside. A wash of relief cascaded over her, glad nothing immediately jumped out to attack or explode at her. She quickly took note of the note however, taking careful steps into the room to pick it up from the top of the dresser and reading it aloud. "'Only in life, will embers burn bright'? What in the world-?"

Her brain quickly linked several things together - this paper, mention of ingredients, going on quests, the survey. "The survey...?!" she exclaimed. Quickly she hurried back out of the door and fished the crinkled paper out of her bag, examining it and laying it side by side with note from the room. In the survey's place was listed several strange objects, some she did recognize as spell ingredients from her long hours studying the arcane. One ingredient stood out like lightning, however.

"Tiefling embers...? Are those the embers the note is talking about??" Her brow furrowed, scrunching up her nose in confusion and concern. She needed to find her brother and fast. If things really were as she was slowly piecing together, they'd need to stick together. You never know what can happen in situations like these, nor the kinds of people that you'll come across, for better or worse. Thin wisps of steam started rising from her damp clothes as her heart-rate began to climb, magically heating up her body.

Rushing back toward the banister, and starting to come down the steps, she was quickly able to spot the single orange horn of her sibling amongst the crowd. It seemed he was getting heated at a rather plainly dressed but beautiful looking seamstress and a pointy-eared young boy. Thinking it best to go retrieve him (lest he cause a scene and embarrass the both of them) she had reached most of the way down the steps when a long and gangly, terrifying looking pitch-black individual taking large strides directly towards her target. At that exact same moment, the drunk man from earlier was being eaten alive by the quest board of all things.

Sending panicked adrenaline shooting through her legs, she misstepped on her way down, her balance going the way of the dodo, and she loudly tumbled down the steps with a yelp of Anzi's name. Several loud thuds came from her body hitting the stairs, resulting in a final ~whump~ at the bottom of the landing as her rear end impacted the wood. Simultaneously trying to flee the embarrassing scene and also potentially rescue her brother, Fara scrambled to her feet and quickly sprinted over rejoin Anzi's side right as he was being approached by the void woman. Thankfully she(?) seemed friendly, but Fara still felt compelled to get him away as fast as possible.

"Heyyyy, Anziii, I see you're making some friends, playing nicely of course? Right, yes, well sorry to pull him away everyone, but I need to talk to my brother real quick. Lovely to meet you all, byyyeee." Her fast talk and charming smile didn't exactly leave much room for anyone to truly get an edge in word-wise, but she made sure to seem pleasant and cheery enough to hopefully make up for her brusque first impression.

Guiding them over to a more quiet corner of the tavern, she looked over her shoulder to confirm the thing that she had only caught a glimpse of before sailing down the stairs - yes that man really had been eaten whole. Panting slightly and wincing now that the pain from the aforementioned stair surfing had set in, she braced her hands against Anzi's shoulders, sort of pinning him to the corner. "Anzi, we need to get out of here, and I think I've figured out some things, but we ~pant~ we need to pool our knowledge and resources. What did you find out?"
 
Helewys deGrey
Location: The Wilds of Amarith; The Twisted Inn
Interacting with: Fawke ThAtGuY101 ThAtGuY101 Jane rakshasa rakshasa Ankerita Lost Echo Lost Echo
Mentioning: Barmaid, Pixie RitualDeadlyf RitualDeadlyf Fara Caligena Caligena Anzi TheCrowKing TheCrowKing
To say that Helewys was having a bad day would be an understatement. In fact to say that they were having a bad week might qualify as one of the most outrageous understatements they’d come across in their 29 years of life and as much as they’d like to hope it couldn’t get worse they knew all too well that it could.

If they didn’t find a way to some form of civilization soon things would, in fact, get much much worse very quickly.

An elf Helewys might be but they’d never before been so far out of the city they’d been born and raised in – a survivalist they were not. Luck more than any kind of foresight had made Hel, half delirious with blood loss and pain, grab the dead soldier’s satchel before stumbling off the well trod path from the capital and into the wilderness. The rations and waterskin inside had gotten them this far but the last bit of tough, dry jerky was now long gone and they’d not seen another creek in nearly a day. It wasn’t yet so bad that they’d resort to blindly trying to guess which of that various herbs and mushrooms around might be safe to eat but if they didn’t find an alternative soon they might have to try their luck. Those were not odds they they were looking forward to gambling on.

“Oh well done Hel, you’ve managed to save yourself from death at the pointy end of a soldier’s sword only to resign yourself to a slow death of starvation instead.” With an annoyed huff of breath at their own folly, they tensed as a distant howl cut through stillness of the air. “Or maybe you’ll get lucky and a wolf will eat you instead. How lovely,” they tacked on with a twitch of their mouth that didn’t know if it wanted to be a smile or a frown. The howl had nothing to do with a lone elf wandering aimlessly through the underbrush smelling like old blood. Probably. Regardless they walked a bit more quickly in the opposite direction just in case.

A bit too preoccupied checking over their shoulder for any sign of hungry yellow eyes they very nearly didn’t notice the light ahead at all until they all but tripped over a root into the small clearing beyond. Only a bit of undignified scrambling and a low hanging tree branch kept them on their feet as they caught sight of the building – an actual, goddess-blessed tavern - situated snugly under the thick canopy of the forest.

There were no visible paths leading here that Helewys could see and the building itself was small and out of place but all they felt upon seeing the strange building was a desperate sense of relief. There was light coming from the windows – whatever woodsmen or trappers frequented this place would no doubt be able to direct Hel out of these cursed woods.

Even in their eagerness to get inside finally the elf paused long enough to straighten their clothes and dust themself off as best they could. It did little. After three days in the forest the hem of their overrobe was ripped and stained with mud and muck of every kind, their boots – made for cobbled city streets not untamed undergrowth – were in no better shape. At least their overrobe managed to hide the pink-red stain of blood on their shirt but that was about the only positive in their mind. Even their hair had had to be tied back when sticks and leaves kept getting caught in it.

Overall they looked exactly like what you’d expect an unprepared city dweller would look after spending a few days walking in the wild. Bedraggled and half wild themself. They hated it.

“Come now, I’ve been seen in much worse condition,” they muttered to themself, a bit annoyed at their own hesitation, and unceremoniously thrust aside their misgivings to stride confidently forward and through the wooden door before they could waste another moment.

Their resolution lasted only until they caught sight of the interior of the tavern. A much larger, much busier place than it looked from the outside. Much more so than it should be for such an incredibly remote location. And something about the people-

Before they could place just what was twigging them as off something popped up directly in front of their face, gushing about a survey of some sort.

“Wha-?!” Helewys flinched back at the sudden appearance of the green creature while they’d been distracted, grimacing as the sudden movement jostled their healed over but still tender wound. “Oh?” they accepted the survey automatically even as a puzzled look furrowed their brows but the creature flitted off before they could voice any of the many questions that were bubbling up on their tongue, “...alright then.”

Ignoring the paper in their hands for a moment, they looked more closely around them – a bar with a woman behind it, nothing unusual there, but the people all around were another story. Many were familiar to Helewys, the capital was a melting pot of many races from central Lanrel and even further afield, and some others they could probably guess at. But not all of them and that in itself was unusual.

Before the true weight of that oddity could set in something much more immediate caught their attention: namely a large quest board at the far side of the room that opened a gaping maw it should not, by rights, have and the man that was immediately swallowed by it. Helewys felt themself go pale at the sight even as the barmaid, calm as can be, yelled over at the board to ‘take their guest to his quest’ as if this was nothing of concern.

What kind of place was this?

Still a bit wide-eyed, they looked down to the paper in their hands hoping for any shred of information that could be gleaned only to see their own rambling thoughts scrawling themselves across the page. Even as they registered this their name looped itself along the bottom in their own half-legible handwriting. As if this signature was the punctuation at the end of a sentence, the writing stopped and faded into a simple list before their eyes. No explanation to be had.

Either they’d stumbled upon the tavern with the strangest gimmick they’d ever heard of or they’d found themself in an even bigger mess of trouble than what they’d been in previously, an impressive feat in and of itself.

“I have the feeling that I should have taken my chance with the wolves,” Helewys sighed after a moment of staring blankly down at the list in their hand before they tucked it away in resignation. “Right, lets go then.”

Stepping carefully through the milling crowd, Helewys noted that there were several that looked just as baffled as they felt. At least they weren’t alone in that. As they started making their way towards a knot of such people several loud thumps drew their eyes to a set of stairs down which a young woman tumbled. Hel winced in sympathetic pain as the tiefling landed unceremoniously at the bottom. Only her quick, embarrassed recovery kept them from immediately rushing over to check on her. That and the way she immediately grabbed someone – another tiefling – and herded him away into what looked like a private conversation.

Keeping a sliver of attention on the young woman, Helewys sidled quietly over to the table the man had apparently leaving. A table that had several occupants that looked… well that didn’t look like they quite knew what they were doing here either. It was a place to start at least.

“Excuse me,” they cleared their throat, eyes skipping politely from the seated human, to what they first assumed was a gnome though a second glance made them doubt their initial assessment, before lastly catching on the very tall shadow person standing nearby. “I don’t suppose any of you know where in the name of the goddess we are, do you?”
 
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