Shards of Memory: The Renewal

Rystil Arden · Apr 12, 2007

*With only a skeleton crew remaining, Diedrik and company manage to list the Hesychia into port at Jhaar. Paying the docking fees with the money provided, they attempt to replace some of the lost crew. Though Jhaar is hardly the ideal place for this, Diedrik and whoever will accompany him head out on the advice of the locals to The Pilfered Diamond, a tavern renowned as a meeting place for privateers and outsiders, the sorts who might be willing to join up as new crew.*

(OOC: Let the In Character final round of the recruitment process begin! Posts from any of the current players or the hopefuls can come next here!)

unleashed · Apr 12, 2007

*Zaeryn is a handsome short slender man, with straight shoulder-length cerulean hair ornamented by a silver circlet. His cobalt-blue eyes show remarkable intelligence and tend to stare straight through you at times, like you just aren’t there. He wears extravagant midnight-blue clothes, the shirt trimmed with arcane symbols in silver at the collar and cuffs, over which he wears an elegant maroon cloak, while calf-high black boots complete his ensemble. His only visible weapon is a dagger on his belt.*

Looking around as they enter the Pilfered Diamond for possible crew replacements, Zaeryn remarks, “I wonder what kind of crew we’re going to find here...” before he heads across to the bar and orders a drink.

Shayuri · Apr 12, 2007

A hunched old woman trundles her way towards the front of the inn from the firepit, still rubbing her hands together from the remembered warmth. Her frayed cloak is the same midnight blue as the layers of robes over the rest of her, making it hard to tell her garments apart. The effect is one of a sort of moving pile of clothes. A veil is draped across the cloak's hood, making her face impossible to see, but her voice, reedy and somehow both whispered yet perfectly audible, is hard to miss.

"Medicines...charms...herbal remedies. Come to Magdolora and she can help for a palm of silver. Love philters. Ward off storms and the evil eye..."

She thumps along with a staff that seems largely responsible for holding up her weight. A stout, sturdy length of wood with a burned slash down one side and a bulbous tip. For a moment she pauses, and Zaeryn has the distinct feeling that he's earned the crone's attention. Perhaps his mode of dress...so different from most taverngoers. His suspicion is soon proven right as she thumps his way.

"You, young man. You've the look of a gentleman. Tell Magdolora what troubles you, to come to a place like this. She can help, oh yes." The suggestion of a grin under the veil. "She can always help."

Nephtys · Apr 12, 2007

The night wasn't cold, but Ilora shivered. Hidden amongst the shadows of the alleyway she reminisced for some time, watching the passers by. She had been hunted for so long, keeping her enemies one step behind but she knew that she could not run forever. Not forever, but for now and for as long as she could. A maudlin smile touches her lips for a moment, unseen, and then she heads towards the inn. She had to find a way off this world, there really was no alternative.
She opens the door and walks in. Her face is cloaked like so many others but the gracefulness of her movements, the insinuating stride that promises nothing and yet traps the eyes and minds of men, identifies her as a seductress. She takes a seat, perching on a barstool with her back against the wall and her cloaked eyes rove the room. It is not long before somebody buys her a drink, and she implies her thanks with a gesture all the while looking at the gentleman and the witch.

Festy_Dog · Apr 12, 2007

Diedrik walked in alongside Zaeryn, content to let Zaeryn's expensive garb and dashing good looks attract the attention intially. He is normally a handsome man in his rough and tumble way, but he appears to not be at his best. He is pale, and dark rings lie under his eyes, making him look drained.

unleashed said:
“I wonder what kind of crew we’re going to find here...”

"I don't think we can afford to be picky on the fringe of inhabited space," Diedrik quietly laments in response.

Diedrik's dour expression stops surveying the room and becomes directed at the old woman when she singles out Zaeryn. Diedrik appears Rowaini. His hair and goatee are kept short, save for a single braid down the left side of his face, secured with a small metal ring. Round spectacles rest upon his nose, but his state of health make them look as though they weigh his head down. He adjusts his simple leather clothing, and casts a critical eye over the woman.

Shayuri said:
"You, young man. You've the look of a gentleman. Tell Magdolora what troubles you, to come to a place like this. She can help, oh yes." The suggestion of a grin under the veil. "She can always help."

Before Zaeryn answers Diedrik interjects, a slight hint of urgency in his voice. A longsword hangs on the left side of his belt, and his left palm rests on the pommel.

"We're looking for competent and trustworthy people to make up a few numbers of a spelljammer crew," Diedrik places a gold piece in the woman's palm, "And a healer, a good one, now."

Shayuri · Apr 12, 2007

The suggestion of a grin widens behind the veil, and while her chuckle isn't exactly a cackle, it's less than a stone's throw from one.

"Competent AND trustworthy? In Jhaar?" She pauses to draw a breath and examines Diedrik beadily. "You've the mark of misfortune about you. Bad times stream out behind you like shadows." She gestures with her staff, as if tracing long lines behind Diedrik. She the pokes him in the stomach, though not hard, and raises a finger.

"But mayhap your fortunes have changed...because I know someone who is everything you have asked for." She scrapes a nail along the gold piece. "And has been looking for a way off this world."

She points at Diedrik then. "You've the manner of a Rowaini. Would you willingly sail with a witch? If not, then I need say no more."

(OOC - Is Diedrik injured or sick or poisoned? I've got a Heal check of +8 I can take 10 on that oughtta give me an idea if y'are.)

Nephtys · Apr 12, 2007

"Why pay for what you can get for free?" Ilora walks towards the spectacled man, letting her drab cowl fall from her face revealing her flawless features, raven hair and eyes like the midnight sky. Her voice is smooth and warm, a musical caress. "I will gladly exchange my favours with you both. I can be an asset to you wherever you seek to travel, for I am well versed in all manner of arts, and all I need in return is our mutual loyalty."

Gli'jar · Apr 12, 2007

A wry smile crosses Nazrill’s face revealing a double row of sharp teeth as the newcomers enter the bar. He cocks his head to the side as if listening to a voice only he can hear, opens his eyes and answers. "Yes Thalo, let the dream unfold. Ptyx, part the shadows let us see what the darkness has hidden." As he moves forward the darkness surrounding him seems to peel away revealing a tall and well built reptilian form. His deep red scales which transition to black then indigo flicker in and out as tendrils of darkness seem to seek purchase in his person. A slight rustle akin to leaves can be heard as his overlapping scales rub against each other as he makes his way forward towards the group.

"We're looking for competent and trustworthy people to make up a few numbers of a spelljammer crew," Diedrik places a gold piece in the woman's palm, "And a healer, a good one, now."

“I am known as Nazrill, speaker of spirits. I sense the need in your voice. I will demonstrate my competence for you. Do you wish the healing or is there another whose body is further afflicted than yours? Take me to them so I may render them well.” He states as he stands between and a step behind the witch and seductress. As he stops and speaks the tendrils of darkness that have been lapping at his form seem to coalesce around him once again, darkening both his form and dimming the light around him. Although darkened by the twisting shadows which seems to act on their own accord, the bleached bone fetishes he wears and animal skin bags stand at a contrast against his scales and yellow eyes. He holds out an indigo claw in an open gesture before his body and his other grabs his bone tooth fetish, head slightly bowed.

pallandrome · Apr 13, 2007

A beefy Lacerta leaning against the wall near the door grins at the quickly growing group. Announcing your intentions of hiring crew was possibly the fastest war of becoming a celebrity on this slimy backwater, and possibly also the most dangerous. The newcomers moved like they'd sailed through nine kinds of hell, which spoke well of the ship they were on and the skipper who ran it. He ran a claw across the scales of his jaw, thinking that his chance to sail the skies may have come again. Bardach pushed away from the wall and moved behind the man who had so brazenly announced his intentions to strangers.

"While I appreciate the need for a reliable crew, you might want to be more circumspect about seeking them. You just announced to half this establishment that you don't have the manpower to defend your ship." he muttered low enough so that only the man could hear him.