[Tavern Thread] The Dunn Wright Inn
Systole
First Post
"Ben ... religion ... prophets ... what?" The wolf-creature shakes his head briefly, trying to clear away the strange thoughts.
"Stories of the darkwolves ... hmmm. Okay, see, the darkwolves live in a valley -- well, maybe it's more of an island. Except, it's surrounded by, like, shadow instead of water. But it isn't really shadow -- it's more kind of like ... nothing. I mean, you could fall off the edge if you were stupid or something, but you wouldn't fall into anything, you know? You'd just fall.
"And it's darker over there. Everything is a lot brighter on this side. Over there it's all black -- black trees, black rocks, black rivers. Except once in a while, there's red. On leaves and flowers sometimes. And on us darkwolves."
He stops and rubs his muzzle with a forepaw. "Ugh, this is never easy to explain. The last time I tried was a couple months back when the boss brought me to this sage guy. He rubbed his beard a lot and kept saying, 'Oh, hmm, interesting' and then he told her that she'd subconsciously shaped a part of the Realm of Shadow and imagined the darkwolves into existence.
"And then I said, 'Oh, really? So if she created us, how come I remember being a cub?' and he said, 'Obviously, she imagined you with a full set of memories, so that from your perspective, it was as if the darkwolves had always existed and you had had a childhood,' and I said, 'Yeah, but how could she have created my memories when I remember being a cub?'" He snorts derisively. "What a moron. Anyway, then he said, 'That'll be 20 gold pieces for the consultation,' and then I said, 'Hold on, because I think I'm about to imagine biting you on the--'"
"Boots." The voice is low and the painted elf doesn't look up from her food, but the tone of warning carries across the room.
The wolf flinches a little at the reprimand, but recovers quickly. "Yeah, so that's my story about the darkwolves. And gosh, it was pretty long, wasn't it? My throat is awfully dry." He coughs twice, rather unconvincingly. "Man, I sure am parched."
"Stories of the darkwolves ... hmmm. Okay, see, the darkwolves live in a valley -- well, maybe it's more of an island. Except, it's surrounded by, like, shadow instead of water. But it isn't really shadow -- it's more kind of like ... nothing. I mean, you could fall off the edge if you were stupid or something, but you wouldn't fall into anything, you know? You'd just fall.
"And it's darker over there. Everything is a lot brighter on this side. Over there it's all black -- black trees, black rocks, black rivers. Except once in a while, there's red. On leaves and flowers sometimes. And on us darkwolves."
He stops and rubs his muzzle with a forepaw. "Ugh, this is never easy to explain. The last time I tried was a couple months back when the boss brought me to this sage guy. He rubbed his beard a lot and kept saying, 'Oh, hmm, interesting' and then he told her that she'd subconsciously shaped a part of the Realm of Shadow and imagined the darkwolves into existence.
"And then I said, 'Oh, really? So if she created us, how come I remember being a cub?' and he said, 'Obviously, she imagined you with a full set of memories, so that from your perspective, it was as if the darkwolves had always existed and you had had a childhood,' and I said, 'Yeah, but how could she have created my memories when I remember being a cub?'" He snorts derisively. "What a moron. Anyway, then he said, 'That'll be 20 gold pieces for the consultation,' and then I said, 'Hold on, because I think I'm about to imagine biting you on the--'"
"Boots." The voice is low and the painted elf doesn't look up from her food, but the tone of warning carries across the room.
The wolf flinches a little at the reprimand, but recovers quickly. "Yeah, so that's my story about the darkwolves. And gosh, it was pretty long, wasn't it? My throat is awfully dry." He coughs twice, rather unconvincingly. "Man, I sure am parched."
GlassEye
Adventurer
"Oh, hurrr... interesting."
Agno motions the barmaid Trixie over who flounces her way across to their table with a motion lost on the tengu but not on several nearby patrons.
"Something for Boots who is not being leather footwear, please." He gives her a few coins then turns his attention back to the darkwolf. "Hurrr... Your tellings of the darkwolves was a good one even if the meaning escapes me! "
Agno motions the barmaid Trixie over who flounces her way across to their table with a motion lost on the tengu but not on several nearby patrons.
"Something for Boots who is not being leather footwear, please." He gives her a few coins then turns his attention back to the darkwolf. "Hurrr... Your tellings of the darkwolves was a good one even if the meaning escapes me! "
Systole
First Post
The painted elf taps her fingers a few times, then appears to reach a decision. She stands and walks over to the tengu.
"The scholar believed Boots comes from the Plane of Shadow," she says without any sort of introduction. "As to whether I invented him..." The grim visage of the skull glances briefly at her happy and rather uncomplicated companion. "I think that is highly unlikely."
"That's what I said. That guy was a total idiot."
Trixie reappears with the tengu's order. The elf looks at the barmaid with obvious irritation, but its unclear whether the irritation is rooted in jealousy over the barmaid's ... superior assets, or a dislike of her chipper personality.
"The scholar believed Boots comes from the Plane of Shadow," she says without any sort of introduction. "As to whether I invented him..." The grim visage of the skull glances briefly at her happy and rather uncomplicated companion. "I think that is highly unlikely."
"That's what I said. That guy was a total idiot."
Trixie reappears with the tengu's order. The elf looks at the barmaid with obvious irritation, but its unclear whether the irritation is rooted in jealousy over the barmaid's ... superior assets, or a dislike of her chipper personality.
sunshadow21
Explorer
[sblock=OOC]Do we still have any 2nd, 3rd, or 4th level characters in the Inn. I may be needing one by this time next week to replace someone.[/sblock]
GlassEye
Adventurer
"The realm of, hurrr... shifting dimness. We tengu know something of the realms of divine manifestation."
There seemed to be a bit of wistfulness with that pronouncement but he seems to shed it quickly and bobs his head at the grimly painted elf in a sort of greeting.
"Agno Phoenicus is my label of speaking and I am acolyte of Issolatha sometimes called the Whisperer who wings along the rim of manifestations where she sees many things and her words, hurrr... garbled though they are being, reach those who see clearly.
I am filled with remorseful forgettings... what is your label of speaking?"
There seemed to be a bit of wistfulness with that pronouncement but he seems to shed it quickly and bobs his head at the grimly painted elf in a sort of greeting.
"Agno Phoenicus is my label of speaking and I am acolyte of Issolatha sometimes called the Whisperer who wings along the rim of manifestations where she sees many things and her words, hurrr... garbled though they are being, reach those who see clearly.
I am filled with remorseful forgettings... what is your label of speaking?"
Systole
First Post
"Sylla."
"Sylla the Grim, you mean."
The elf frowns at her companion, but he simply rolls his eyes. "What did I say? I thought the whole point of putting that stuff on your face was so people would call you 'the Grim.'"
"It's ... You ... Never mind." She turns to Agno. "You've met Boots."
"Isn't that a great name? I picked it myself. Because my paws are red," he explains. "They're totally different from the rest of me, which is black."
The elf closes her eyes and sighs in quiet exasperation before continuing. "I was told there was work to be found in here."
"Sylla the Grim, you mean."
The elf frowns at her companion, but he simply rolls his eyes. "What did I say? I thought the whole point of putting that stuff on your face was so people would call you 'the Grim.'"
"It's ... You ... Never mind." She turns to Agno. "You've met Boots."
"Isn't that a great name? I picked it myself. Because my paws are red," he explains. "They're totally different from the rest of me, which is black."
The elf closes her eyes and sighs in quiet exasperation before continuing. "I was told there was work to be found in here."
perrinmiller
Adventurer
NPC, Grog the Bartender, Retired half-orc fighter
Grog the bartender, a grumpy looking half-orc, dries a mug with a cloth as he looks around the common room. He occasionally spits into the mug he is drying to clean off a pesky spot or two. He observes the newcomers talking and getting to know each other.
A messenger enters the tavern and makes his way to the bar and gives him a dispatch. Opening it up he reads it with curiosity. He mutters to himself, "D'are prob'ly a few scabs int'rest'd."
Grog the bartender, a grumpy looking half-orc, dries a mug with a cloth as he looks around the common room. He occasionally spits into the mug he is drying to clean off a pesky spot or two. He observes the newcomers talking and getting to know each other.
A messenger enters the tavern and makes his way to the bar and gives him a dispatch. Opening it up he reads it with curiosity. He mutters to himself, "D'are prob'ly a few scabs int'rest'd."
GlassEye
Adventurer
Agno listens to the banter between the two with curiosity since he's never experienced the like during his captivity or in his brief stay at the temple to Issolatha.
"Hurrr... you choose your label of speaking? I had no label before the temple gave me one after the holy, Sapian name of the, hurrr... red-winged blackbird. Because the chevron of red feathers on my arm."
Agno makes a throaty rumbling sound which seems to be his version of a laugh before responding to Sylla's comment about work.
"I've seen no work, hurrr. Except, maybe..."
He turns to watch as the messenger delivers the dispatch to the bartender.
"Hurrr... you choose your label of speaking? I had no label before the temple gave me one after the holy, Sapian name of the, hurrr... red-winged blackbird. Because the chevron of red feathers on my arm."
Agno makes a throaty rumbling sound which seems to be his version of a laugh before responding to Sylla's comment about work.
"I've seen no work, hurrr. Except, maybe..."
He turns to watch as the messenger delivers the dispatch to the bartender.
perrinmiller
Adventurer
NPC, Grog the Bartender, Retired half-orc fighter
Grog continues his spit polishing as he looks over at the novice adventurers.
Finally making up him mind that there are no better choices, he call out in his gravelly voice, "Oy! Bird-beak, Fancy-pants, Tusk-face, and Pointy-ears wit da chatty puppy. Any yews inta'st'd inna sum adv'nturin' work?"
From the nicknames he has just made up, it appears that Grog is talking to Agno, Denizel, Iago, and Sylla with Boots. He is holding up the dispatch that just arrived.
[sblock=OOC]Scourge of the Howling Horde is recruiting. Please read the rules, but no posting there yet.[/sblock]
Grog continues his spit polishing as he looks over at the novice adventurers.
Finally making up him mind that there are no better choices, he call out in his gravelly voice, "Oy! Bird-beak, Fancy-pants, Tusk-face, and Pointy-ears wit da chatty puppy. Any yews inta'st'd inna sum adv'nturin' work?"
From the nicknames he has just made up, it appears that Grog is talking to Agno, Denizel, Iago, and Sylla with Boots. He is holding up the dispatch that just arrived.
[sblock=OOC]Scourge of the Howling Horde is recruiting. Please read the rules, but no posting there yet.[/sblock]
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