(IC) A Hard Time in Harrowdale

[crazy_monkey1956]

Selua is quiet, thoughtful, and observant. She watches the other elf and the Calishite talk and, when asked for her name, she says simply, "I am Selua, devoted of Sehanine." She offers nothing further to the conversation.

[Voda Vosa]

The man nods at the elven bard. "I'll appreciate that lady Abrielle."

Abde'Ragman turns to Selua "You have the looks of the ones that live among the wilderness my lady Selua, I take you are not native to this..." the calishite looks at his surroundings, with an almost perceivable displeasure "...picturesque town"

[crazy_monkey1956]

Selua only nods, trying to be polite but preferring to waste as little breath as possible on words.

[Arkhandus]

Northern Gate Plaza

By the time an acolyte from the Temple of Tymora arrives at the northern gate plaza, the young priest can't find the injured man locals had mentioned coming through the gate earlier. The Tymoran wanders back to his temple when he finds no one to heal (for a fee...).

Before that, the waitress Bess brings some dumplings, stew, and mugs of ale for Abrielle's companions, then retreats to let them talk in private.

Western Gate Plaza

Niles and the boys from Shadowdale are busy unloading goods, while Evanar and Storn are left to take a break like the other caravan guards. A few mercenaries head for the nearest tavern together, the Treehouse Tap, while the other two mercs wander off towards other taverns they must know of.

Fayne follows the group of three mercs into the Treehouse Tap, a two-story elven-style tavern built around an old tree, the branches of which spread out just over the roof. The mercenaries sit down at the bar, hailing the bartender and ordering mead.

Inside, the Treehouse Tap is half-filled with customers, mostly human Dalesfolk but also a few elves, half-elves, and foreigners. The tavern is well-lit by many windows and a few Everburning Torches in wall-sconces, and a stairway on either side of the common room leads upstairs. The tree trunk rises through the middle of the tavern and is used to help support the second floor, with what looks like magically-reshaped wooden braces fitted tightly against the trunk. Rows of wine and ale kegs are stacked up against the far wall, each tapped with a nozzle for dispensing myriad drinks, and the bar encircles this arrangement. The bar is run by an elven couple, moon elves with pale blue-tinged skin, green eyes, and black hair.

One merc is a tall fellow of Cormyrian appearance and accent, wearing a well-made breastplate and an old shield with faded Cormyrian army markings, a longsword sheathed at his waist. He slings the shield over his shoulder before entering, and talks idly in Chondathan to his comrades about the easy coin they just earned and their plans for the next job. His fellows are another fellow that looks and sounds like someone from Cormyr or the Dalelands, wearing studded leather and a sheathed rapier, and a bearded half-elf of wood elven descent based on his coppery skin; he wears a chain shirt, with a pair of longswords sheathed at his hips, and composite shortbow of horn, wood, and sinew hanging over his left shoulder, a quiver behind the right.

[Myth and Legend]

Abrielle thanked Bess and took a dumping - the diet here was much different than what was being served back on Evermeet, but the girl enjoyed the variety nevertheless. "Selua doesn't talk much apparently. We just met before you came out in the square." Abrielle smiled at the sivler haired girl and added in elven: "I think he fancies you." and laguhed softly as she helped herself to another dumping.

[Voda Vosa]

"I will not dare to do such a thing, dear lady Abrielle" the calishite replies in elven, as he takes a he takes a piece of stake with his fingers and eats it. After chewing he adds "I know a wide variety of languages, excuse me if I haven't mentioned it before." The man mutters a word in a guttural language, and the food remains on his hand and beard fly to the floor, leaving him clean.

[Myth and Legend]

Abrielle blushed and smiled: "Please, call me Abby." "I should have guessed that a Wizard would know Elven, I made a fool of myself!"

"So, tell me what happened to your caravan? Did you glimpse any specific trait of your attackers that would help in identifying them?"

[Voda Vosa]

"Ten masked men, dressed in black clothes. All of them quite proficient with the sword. My guards stand no chance against them. We slay two or three of them, but that was all. By the time we decided to flee, there was just me, Jalamar and Azadam. They had bows and... well you would picture how they used them. The poor two youngsters were down after the first shots. I kept running, not without wounds. At least I have my life, and I'll have my revenge, when the time comes." Abde'Ragman explained, finishing his plate.

[Scott DeWar]

for voda vosa

I know i have mentioned this before, and that is we all know english is not your first language, and having said that I wanted to forwarn you that the following phrase may need some re-translating as it makes no sense as it is written now.

just wanting to be helpful.

"Ten asked humans dressing black cloths.

perhaps it was supposed to say: 10 humans dressed in black clothing?

[Voda Vosa]

Scott

Isn't ten=10? The other part is right I think, I'll edit above.

[Arkhandus]

Scott and Voda

I believe he means "Ten masked men, dressed in black clothes" but forgot the 'm' in there. In other words, describing something like Kara-Tur ninja, or perhaps Shadow Thieves from Amn.

So what's Evanar doing, or where is he going exactly? Storn hasn't said anything yet.....

Selua seems to not understand Abrielle's comment, as she says nothing. She does look like she might not have spent much time in cities before.

Abrielle

You can attempt a Knowledge (Local) skill check, if you have that skill, to see if you recognize something about Selua's unusual appearance for an elf. If your check equals or exceeds DC 20, you recognize her as a rare kind of wood elf, scarcely mentioned in Evermeet. If you match or beat DC 25, you recognize her as a Lythari, a wood elven werewolf, and that Lythari have only been around since the Time of Troubles. Evermeet's scholars didn't seem to know anything more about the Lythari.

[Scott DeWar]

Voda and Arkhandus

10 masked men. now it makrs sense! Is that right Vada?

Evanar, true to his word heads directly to the nearest watering hole. for one drink.

[Voda Vosa]

OOC: Yes indeed ^^ I hate my keyboard, Have I mentioned it already?

[Scott DeWar]

Originally Posted by Voda Vosa

OOC: Yes indeed ^^ I hate my keyboard, Have I mentioned it already?

Yes, i feel your pain.

[Walking Dad]

"Bah, Evanar, let grip us sam drinks. Thirsty dwarf is nothin' good to see!" The dwarf mercenary that accompanies the human says. His armor is spiked, he is as broad as tall. Strong like an ox, half as intelligent.

[Arkhandus]

Evanar and Storn head into the Treehouse Tap, and inside they see the same scene as Fayne, as well as noticing the coppery-skinned foreign warrior. They hadn't seen him before, while talking to Uncle Niles. He's approaching the caravan guards who just came in for a drink.

[Rhun]

Fayne approaches the bar, taking a position where he can overhear the covnersation between the mercenaries. He hails one of the proprieters, ordering an ale.

[Scott DeWar]

as Evanar and Storn walk in he glances around and sees caravan mers as well as a myiad of others about. when they choose a table, he calls ofr three ales, and upon arriving he takes one and slides the other two to Storn.

"you are so right. A thirsty dwarf is a crying shame to behold. Quite the ecclectic variety of people here eh?"

[Walking Dad]

"Nat only sorry ta see! Outright dangerous! Good thin' I'm master of the secret two-ale technique!" Storn answers with a very big grin, grabbing both ales at once and starts to pour them down his throat.

[Scott DeWar]

"the secret two what?.....oh somuch for enjoying the falavor of the ale."

Evanar shrugs and smiles as he raises his single mug in respectful salute to the dwarf.