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"Well my friend it is very important that I find a place called The Ruffled Feathers. I was hoping my little tune would earn me enough to pay one such as yourself to lead me there."
The young boy (not yet pubescent but plainly in his element on the streets) scowls mightily at Keeland but immediately turns and starts walking.
"Pretty particular for a kid without two pennies to rub together, aren't you? Well, come on then before someone sees me being nice."
After a walk of a few blocks through the twisting, narrow streets he delivers Keeland to the door of a building of dubious structural integrity. The sign above the door displays two banty roosters, squaring off and puffed up to twice their actual size.
"If anybody asks, you found your way here all on your own. I've got a reputation to protect."
With these parting words, the boy disappears into the rain heading back the way you came.
Keeland pauses for a moment to try to shake off the worst of the water outside the door, though the overhang from the second floor of the inn doesn't provide much shelter from the pouring rain, and enters.
He's confronted by a wall of sound and activity, but quickly manages to sort through the chaos and get his bearings. While he recognizes that the two burly men with red sashes on their arms must be the Garda mentioned by Commander Tadhg he is unable to discern any thing that would make his potential squadmates stand out from the crowd.
Not knowing precisely with whom he is supposed to meet, Houwlou, after shaking the water from his coat most luxuriantly, will go to the bar to obtain some liquid refreshment and to watch the room and all in it that he can see. (He will refrain from 'marking his territory' at this point, as he has heard that these 'less forthright' types tend to frown upon that sort of behavior.)
Houwlou is confronted by a strange sight - a mop of auburn curls appears on the other side of the bar to his right, followed quickly by an intelligent forehead, then a pair of light green eyes, and before he knows it there's a halfling across the bar from him asking for his drink order.
At the Olcán's puzzled look, he says "The world is what you make of it, my friend. If it doesn't fit, you make adjustments!" With a gesture he pulls Houwlou's gaze to a short ramp on the other side of the bar. The ramp elevates to a platform of a height to allow the bartender to serve his 'big folk' customers at their level. "Now, what can I get for you?"
Aodhán is clapped soundly on a mailed shoulder. Looking around quickly, he's confronted by a halfling with shoulder length auburn hair and a neatly trimmed goatee. The halfling glances at the pitcher and extra glasses and gestures toward the crowd standing at the door.
"Are you trying to enhance the dwarven reputation for drinking, or are you waiting for someone? If it's just going to be you tonight we could use the extra seats."
Houwlou is confronted by a strange sight - a mop of auburn curls appears on the other side of the bar to his right, followed quickly by an intelligent forehead, then a pair of light green eyes, and before he knows it there's a halfling across the bar from him asking for his drink order.
At the Olcán's puzzled look, he says "The world is what you make of it, my friend. If it doesn't fit, you make adjustments!" With a gesture he pulls Houwlou's gaze to a short ramp on the other side of the bar. The ramp elevates to a platform of a height to allow the bartender to serve his 'big folk' customers at their level. "Now, what can I get for you?"
Houwlou is suitably impressed by the halfling's ingenuity, but his face is totally impassive and betrays no hint of this. "I've been standing here for quite awhile. I guess you were out back building the platform, eh? Ale, if you please?"
Last edited by Leif; 23rd April 2009 at 05:01 PM..
Doing his best to leave as much of the rain outside as possible Keeland enters The Ruffled Feathers. The young Áilleacht runs his fingers through lank hair and tries to make himself presentable. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, he saunters over to the bartender and flashes his best smile. "Gods it isn't fit for man nor beast out there tonight. I've not two coins to rub together this evening. However, I'd gladly play for you and your patrons if I could earn a crust and a dry place to sleep tonight. I'll be glad to get this lot singing along, which as I'm sure you know is thirsty work. A rousing song or too and they'll all need a refill. The extra mugs should more than pay for my simple needs." He pats his trusty lute. "I'll play, sing and keep them happy and drinking."
Aodhán is clapped soundly on a mailed shoulder. Looking around quickly, he's confronted by a halfling with shoulder length auburn hair and a neatly trimmed goatee. The halfling glances at the pitcher and extra glasses and gestures toward the crowd standing at the door.
"Are you trying to enhance the dwarven reputation for drinking, or are you waiting for someone? If it's just going to be you tonight we could use the extra seats."
Aodhán laughs heartily at the halfling's comment and replies"I'm meeting four of my friends here tonight. They should be along shortly" continuing to look around for any others that appear to be searching for someone.
Doing his best to leave as much of the rain outside as possible Keeland enters The Ruffled Feathers. The young Áilleacht runs his fingers through lank hair and tries to make himself presentable. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, he saunters over to the bartender and flashes his best smile. "Gods it isn't fit for man nor beast out there tonight. I've not two coins to rub together this evening. However, I'd gladly play for you and your patrons if I could earn a crust and a dry place to sleep tonight. I'll be glad to get this lot singing along, which as I'm sure you know is thirsty work. A rousing song or too and they'll all need a refill. The extra mugs should more than pay for my simple needs." He pats his trusty lute. "I'll play, sing and keep them happy and drinking."
The Ruffled Feathers - A Little Something for Everyone
Quote:
Originally Posted by Leif
Houwlou is suitably impressed by the halfling's ingenuity, but his face is totally impassive and betrays no hint of this. "I've been standing here for quite awhile. I guess you were out back building the platform, eh? Ale, if you please?"
Not put out a bit by Houwlou's gruff demeanor, the bartender draws an ale with just the right amount of head on it. "Yeah, we're a little busy tonight . . . but that just puts this one on par with every other night in here. The mercs really like this place, for some reason. Not that I'm complaining, mind; it's nice not having to worry about making the rent."
Just then the bartender's attention is taken by the arrival of a sodden Áilleacht a few places down the bar. Though it's difficult through the tumult, Houwlou's keen hears pick up a few words of the bartender's conversation with him.
"Gods it isn't fit . . . nor beast out there tonight. I've not . . . together this . . . However, I'd gladly play for . . . patrons if I could . . . crust and a dry place to sleep tonight. I'll be glad to get this lot singing along, which as I'm sure you know is thirsty work . . . song or two and they'll . . . The extra mugs should . . . simple needs. I'll play, sing and keep them happy and drinking."
The bartender must have agreed with whatever was proposed. They part with a handshake and the bartender shouts something into the kitchen. A plate with a decent dinner of steaming food, along with a mug of ale, arrives shortly in front of the elf and he sets to with a vengeance.
After seeing to a couple of other patrons, the barkeep returns to check on Houwlou. "You still good? Need a refill?"
Quote:
Originally Posted by Scott DeWar
He looks around for an area with 3 or so seats available.
There are empty seats scattered here and there, but not many openings of three or four. There is one fairly close to the door, but all of the places look to be reserved by a Dwarf nursing an ale. A pitcher and four empty glasses hold the places close to him.
Quote:
Originally Posted by renau1g
Aodhán laughs heartily at the halfling's comment and replies"I'm meeting four of my friends here tonight. They should be along shortly," continuing to look around for any others that appear to be searching for someone.
"If you'll tell me what they look like I'll keep an eye out for them. I know most of the regulars here, so newcomers should be easy to spot." The cleric isn't quite sure, but he thinks he catches a little mischievous glint in the halfling's eye.
Before the Olcán can reply to the bartender, he is jostled from behind hard enough to slosh some of his remaining ale over the edge of his mug and onto his ruff. Looking around, he sees a very large - and quite drunk - GránnaCuid (half-orc) standing next to the bar and dividing glances between Houwlou and the bartender.
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Quote:
There are empty seats scattered here and there, but not many openings of three or four. There is one fairly close to the door, but all of the places look to be reserved by a Dwarf nursing an ale. A pitcher and four empty glasses hold the places close to him.
huh. even a dwarf only needs one mug to drink with. he has 4 other mugs, so maybe he is the mercenary i am to join with
Harnreymakes his way over to the table with the dwarf and 5 mugs.
"greetings master dwarf, might I join you for a mug?"
Houwlou draws himself up to his full height and says to the half-orc, "Let's step outside, ruffian," as he catches a glimpse of the Garda taking an interest in them.
OOC: What's a Garda, anyway?
OOC: Houwlou does a quick personal inventory to see if the 'jostling' has relieved him of any possessions.
Last edited by Leif; 24th April 2009 at 01:32 AM..
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