Even Newer Tavern Thread: The Hanged Man

A tall figure in dark clothing enters the tavern, seeming to glide across the floor. It's wearing an ankle-length, midnight blue cloak with silver trim and star pattern. Once across the threshold it steps to the side, so as not to block the entrance, and stands by the wall for 5 minutes or so, surveying the other occupants and taking in the surroundings. During this time, the figure remains incredibly still.

Once sure of the situation, the figure removes the cloak and drapes it over an arm, revealing a definitely female figure. She is very slender and dressed all in midnight blue with silver trim. Her shirt and pants are loose-fitting, but she is wearing a tight bodice with the same broad star pattern as the cloak. Her skin is so pale it's almost white, but it has a slightly bluish tinge about it. There are 3 deep blue lightningbolt-ish markings on either side of her face, beginning at the outer corner of each eye angling toward the chin. You can see evidence of similar markings on her torso above the bodice. Her hair is cut off at the shoulders and tucked behind the ears and the eyes are a deep blue. It seems that the whole outfit was designed to augment her colors.

She walks over to the bar smoothly, the gait has less of a gliding look about it now that the cloak is over her arm instead of around her shoulders, but it still has a certain graceful quality. She nods to the bartender and smiles in greeting before speaking.

"Hello, Friend. Have you something light and refreshing I could partake of? My journey has been a long and thirsty one."

The bard pats the goliath on the back, "You are no longer the prettiest one in the tavern, my friend."

The goliath appears startled at the bards comment, I um... wait...me..? Of course I'm not, with the stone grey of his face growing darker by the minute.

Taking a minute to compose himself, the massive barbarian calls out to the newest arrival, his deep, gravelly voice booming out to cut through the background noise. Hail, and well met lady deva. You appear to have cought the eye of this fair minstrel, gesturing a meaty hand toward Jynxx. Would you do him the honor of your name and joining our circle of tale-tellers? He seems genuinely interesting in the arrival's tale, and oblivious of the fact he may have just embarassed both himself and Jynxx with his outburst.

Rujah's head tilts once more as he noticed the reaction as the dwarf was mentioned by name. (Insight roll: 1d20+1=18 ) He rises and follows the others even as he continues attempting to discern events.

"I'll take it from your body language that you are not friends with this... Fargo. Tell me about him, and why you share enmity."

Jynxx strains to not laugh at the goliath's comments, "Although my heart belongs to another, I would appreciate a tale."

The girl accepts a light ale from the bar tender, leaves him some coins for it, takes a sip, and makes her way over to the Goliath and the bard. She smiles at them as she approaches, and when she reaches them, she leans on the wall next to them and commences mostly looking like a statue, if statues could talk. She does take the occasional sip of her ale.

"I am Azryah. I'm afraid I'm not really a spectacular tale-spinner myself, but perhaps if I give it some thought I will come up with something. What are your names, friends? I'm new to the area, so any information you can provide would be most appreciated."

[sblock=OOCSwitching to brown since we have a lot of green text speakers.[/sblock]

The massive goliath returns the deva's smile as she approaches. I am Chaku of the Wi... I am Chaku. A look of sadness washes over his stoney features during the pause. Forcing a smile to his face, he motions toward Jynxx, This is.. Hmm.. I don't know his name. This is Mr. Bard! he states, quite proud of himself.

It's OK if you do not have any stories to tell, Mr. Bard hasn't told one of his own yet, you could think of one while he weaves a fantastical tale! That is, if he knows one? states the barbarian, looking to Jynxx with a keen interest.

Theroc said:

"I'll take it from your body language that you are not friends with this... Fargo. Tell me about him, and why you share enmity."

Click to expand...

"Let's just say we're on opposite ends of the same business." Brastrix says, as if through clenched teeth, "He's hiding a competitive advantage from me, and it's hurting my profits." The swashbuckler continues his explanation as he, his entourage, and Rujah exit the Hanged Man to look for Rujah's friend. [sblock=Ensuing events][sblock=OOC]OK. I'm getting impatient, and the rule of DMming is that if you, the DM, are getting impatient, chances are that your players are getting impatient too. In light of that, I'm going to gloss over the ensuing events and get you up to speed with the rest of the party. Forgive me if I write in things that don't quite match how Rujah would react, succeed, or fail in these situations[/sblock]Brastrix goes on to tell you that he and his companions have been thwarted in many a profitable venture by Fargo's meddling, but all of his examples are vague, and the stories make him seem like a playground child who's been forced to pick the nerd for his team.

When the six adventurers reach the harbor, Rujah's friends are nowhere in sight, and, despite his attitude before, Brastrix actually looks disapoionted that Fargo can't be found, "You can come with us. We'll track him down," he offers with suspicious determination, "I think I know where he's headed."

Brastrix and his group lead Rujah to a small sloop anchored in the harbor, where a crew of roughly thirty is waiting. They seem to have been given orders to keep the ship ready to sail at a moment's notice, because it only takes a signal from Brastrix, and the anchor capstans begin to click and groan before the party even clears the gangplank.

Reaching the deck, Brastrix calls for the boatswain into the captains quarters for a quick, private meeting. Rujah can't make out exactly what transpires between the two, but the discussion doesn't seem too congenial seeing as Brastrix's voice is raised enough that its muffled cacophony carries through the cabin walls and out onto the deck. When he emerges, he is huffing and puffing as if having taken care of some kind of unpleasant business.

Within minutes, sails are unfurled, and the ship pulls out of the harbor and reaches a good amount of speed.

For a week or so, Rujah attempts to mingle with the crew, and he quickly comes to the conclusion that these people are in a business he would prefer not to put on his resume.

The ship runs into a squall which almost rips the sloop apart, but, miraculously, she makes it through without losing much more than a fragment of her sails.

As the waters calm, Rujah's suspicions concerning the crew are confirmed as he witnesses, first hand, what the eye-patches are for.

Everyone on the ship wears a patch over one eye, and none of them are half-blind. One of the crew offers him a patch and explains that during a naval battle, it is usually quite dark below-decks while above-decks it's usually bright and sunny. The patch is to keep one eye adjusted to the dark so that if the fight goes below-decks, the wearer will suffer no blindness due to the change in lighting conditions. This seems to make sense, but what follows, does not.

The sloop spots a cargo ship and pulls along side her. Grappling hooks fly between the boats, and Brastrix's crew begins to make short work of the captain and officers of the helpless vessel.

Realizing that Brastrix is nothing more than a common pirate, Rujah attempts to break rank and defend the cargo ship, but his efforts are met with force. Rujah is nearly killed in the fight when a blow from a cutlass cleaves through his armor and knocks him overboard. He is barely able to hold onto his hammer as he falls into the water. Then all goes black.

Another of the victimized crew, badly hurt, manages to escape the doomed vessel by cuting a launch free form its crane and moorings. The tiny boat plunges into the ocean water with the man inside. With his hands, he paddles over to Rujah and hoists the defeated dragonborn into the boat, but the effort is too much for the dying man. He breathes his last, leaving Rujah to drift in semiconsciousness as evening falls and the fog rolls in. The pirate sloop and cargo ship are nowhere to be seen. [sblock=OOC]Whew! Sorry for the terse story, but I think that get's you to the same geographic location as the rest of your group. Now I need to write you into Land Ho! FWBTHW. You can pick the story up from there.[/sblock][/sblock]

Cyr noticed new arriveal, but her being heaviliy cloaked, he didn't pay too much attention. Until, that is, their eyes met when she entered. Feeling of deja vu passed quickly, but there was always that feeling "we've met before" lingering in his memory of thousand lifetimes.

He approaches the table jsut in time to hear her name and bows to the lady.

"Well met, lady Azryah. My name is Cyr Iannes and I'm at your service."

"Aye a fine tale to tell! It is more a matter of what you desire to hear! I have tales from far and wide, of new and old! I have tells of goliaths and deva! Of goblin and human! Even a tell of kobolds!" Jynxx looks suddenly more animated than he already was, which has a tendancy to make many people uncomfortable. "Forgive me if I did not give my name! I am Jynxx, but my friends may call me Lucky. Perhaps someday I will be able to show you how I have come by that name! A keen teller of tales, a terrific user of the bow, and an unsurpassed observer of people! At your service!"