Fantasy Twisted Adventures: Disorder and Gob Snot

[Lost Echo]

Abruptly, another appeared at their crowded table. It was the tiefling-she’d-insulted-earlier’s companion. She spoke in a hurry, seeming to want to team up on these quests everyone was talking about. Ankerita was unsure what they would entail, but she agreed, the more people, the better. Though the blue ma-tiefling from before might hold a grudge, something she’d hope to avoid. The girl flashed a smile before disappearing, possibly to ask the rest of the tavern to join them. Ankerita knew she had to make haste.

The blonde sunburned weaver clarified what she meant. Ankerita turned her head, trying to imagine someone weaving all the magic of the world. Magic had always been a discrete energy in the stories. Each witch or monster was bound by their own limitations. But as she thought about it, she wondered. It was rare for her to not be surrounded by fabric she’d already worked with. But beyond what she was wearing, each article of clothing was new to her. Still, even though she was wary to try, she felt, in her bones with no logic at all, that she could reach into the woven strands of the fabrics around her and control them. If every cloth had a personality, waiting to be heard, then surely that indicated magic covered everything? She wanted to question her on how one weaved magic but kept her tongue, knowing now was not the time.

She left, then Jane stood as well, possibly referring to Ankerita’s suggestion? It took a moment for her to not be insulted by the casual cutting of her name, but in this situation, metaphorical battles could turn quite real.

Shotgun (whose explanation of his name confused her--we’re arrowheads already metal?)’s grand plan was to read the ingredient lists they each had. In moments, the way became clear. Smiling indulgently, for many in her village also didn’t know their letters, she was about to offer to read his when Jane had him follow her.

Fawke had regained her attention, returning to her job. “Yes, I am the best in our village. I even take work from the castle.” The young child spoke of his skills, but more focused on the weaving healer. They compared their magics, most of it going over the tailor’s head. She mostly focused on the fact that the sunburned woman had plenty of experience healing. Ankerita silently promised herself to have her join their group. She stood, encouraging Fawke to join her with the others, and watched as the irritable tiefling faced the quest board.

She stayed back as Helewys warned the man about its proclivity, before moving out of the way as she dragged him to safety. His sister was at his side in a moment, but he lashed out at her just as he had at the strangers at the table. He was definitely someone to avoid. As the red-horned girl thanked Helewys, Ankerita turned to listen to the bard crying their woe before collapsing. A self-proclaimed prince returned to reassure him, boisterous in a way only the unknowing could be. A girl with ears like a dog appeared to come with him.

She scanned the crowded room, feeling lost. Should she return to the table? Dare she risk the quest board? Her eyes scanned the room, before catching sight of the chicken again. She should keep an eye on the child. She returned to his side. She offered the list she’d been clutching the entire time, “So, are these the same or do you have a different list?”

 

[ThAtGuY101]

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



He looked up at Helewys, who seemed to appreciate potion making as much as he did. She mentioned her lack of offensive spells didn't surprise Fawke. He smiled and blinked.

"Neither do I. I've never had much need for them. I've never met any creature my stick or couldn't outrun" He said chuckling. She asked him about his blood magic.

"I think. Maybe? I've only ever seen Dippu elves use the same form of it as me. It's a healing art. Really powerful in the right hands. Certainly not mine yet, and it requires a source, like the name sake" Fawke finished. He looked around the room, wondering who he'd go with. If he went with the group over here, he likely wouldn't be seeing much of the people over here and Fawke had been interacting with them most of his time there. It was all too difficult to choose for the little elf.

He glanced over at Ankerita who mentioned being the best in her village. A fact that brought some comfort to him. Even taking on jobs from the castle. He didn't know what that meant but it sounded important. Maybe even dangerous.

"So, you're basically a skilled adventurer!" Fawke said. When she showed her list, he wondered if it was okay to look at her list. He reluctantly did, he didn't recognize any of them. Then shook his head no at her.


"mmmh. Nope. I don't have any of those on my list." Fawke said, showing his list to Ankerita.

~Raynn Winter...~
~location: Twisted Tavern...~

"Okay! Okaaay!! I'll stop! I'll stop!" A man laying down in the street yelled. a boot pressed against his back, preventing him from standing up. It was none other than the huntsman himself, glaring down at the man on the ground. whatever he did really upset Raynn.

"I catch you saying false rumors about witches again, I'll find you. Take my metal belt off and bend your grown ass over my knee and whoop you in public! Your friends at the tavern, would never let you live that down" Raynn said. He let the man go. Who shuffled away, trying to hold onto whatever shred of dignity he still had. Raynn angrily adjusted his helmet. with a hufflepuff, he waited till the man was out of sight. He Made sure there were no more false rumors. Even triple checked to make sure no threat loomed near the village.

After 5 hours of traveling on the road, he found a tavern. A good place as any to grab a bite. He headed inside. The first thing he saw was a flying gremlin. A sickly looking pixie.

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

"AAH! What in the gods names are you, foul one?!" Raynn said ready to put a irom bolt between its eyes. He needed a second to compute what the thing said, and make sure it wasn't a trick. It would seem he has wandered into the wrong tavern. he looked down to see an in detail answer word for word for how he got there. It was too good, almost as if something knew what he was thinking. In an attempt to shield his thoughts, he began to think of many things to throw it off. He thought about weapons maintenance, card game moves, dragon chess moves, and a few involving an interaction he had with a rather eager barbarian.

The survey answer became very long, with large sections having nothing to do with how he got there. At some point, his signature appeared and the survey disappeared.

"What sort of foul dark one did I make an agreement with?! If I ever escape this place, this tavern must be burned to the ground!" He snapped. he turned and saw a quest board, a barmaid, and some people casually talking. He stood there and began contemplating his next course of action. Putting his crossbow away and taking his helmet off. He held it under his arm and looked around the room one more time before deciding.