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Tuesday, 24th April, 2012, 06:16 AM #2341
Magsman (Lvl 14)
"Scrubs?" snorts Maui.
Nevertheless he gets to his feet and totters over to the poster and peers at it for a few seconds.
"Gah ... stupid town scribbles!"
Maui calls Taniwha who has been lounging in front of the warm hearth all this time and they follow they other two out the door hoping they know where they are going.'I am a predator...the predator improves the race...I kill but not out of hate.'
Frank Herbert: Emperor God of Dune
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Tuesday, 24th April, 2012, 11:59 AM #2342
Thaumaturgist (Lvl 9)
Cythera e'Kiernan, Bronze Dragon Disciple
Cythera sees the exodus of several of the fresh scrubs and budding journeymen depart after taking notice to the postings and calls to arms. She takes a half-hearted look herself and shrugs.
Returning to the bar she comments to the gruff bartender, "They all cleared out in a hurry. I wonder, though, where are all the more experienced Dancers."
Grog chuckles, his voice more like gravel in a tin pail, than a happy sound.
"Lass, dey be shawr ta cum aro'nd har even'tally. Drink up an' be happy."
Cythera sips her wine and smiles indulgently at the grizzled retired fighter's philosophy.
"Oh that is easy for you to say. Your days of traveling the world to meet interesting monsters and slaying them are over."
Grog frowns, "Ah, fook ya den. Doncha be remindin' me, lass. I be still able ta kick yar arse, ya ken."
Cythera bows her head in deference to acknowledge the point, smiling to show she meant no offense, but just some friendly banter.
Playing & DMing: PF and SWSE
Tuesday, 24th April, 2012, 02:21 PM #2343
Scout (Lvl 6)
- Join Date
- Feb 2007
- Northwest of DC
- Read 0 Reviews
ø Ignore Artur Hawkwing
His stew finished and mug empty, the now somewhat happier bellied Marcus puts the small book into his backpack and gets to his feet. He walks over to the board, once the crowd has dispersed a little, and looks over the postings.
Guard duty? I'm so tired of...
He scans the newest posting and quirks an eyebrow.
Now there we go. That sounds like just the change.
He pauses to try to think of where to find the place, then nods as he thinks he has it. He turns and heads through the door, out into the wilds of Venza.
I fight beneath this flag against the Darkness. Pay no attention to the cost in land and lives, this war must be won by the light!
Living Pathfinder: Canasta Emeraldas, Human Bard Level 1
Retired LPF: Audra Frost, Human Monk, Level 6 | Marcus Cole, Half-Elf Ranger 3/Wizard (Admixture Evocation) 1
Tuesday, 24th April, 2012, 02:25 PM #2344
Defender (Lvl 8)
As the exodus finally calms down, the door slowly and carefully opens. Not used to this sort of treatment, the door squeaks loudly as a man enters, the helmet covering most of his face. On his heels is a wolf, sniffing at the lingering smell of something incredibly strong.
The man looks around before starting to remove his helmet. His face shows a number of scars, but the scariest looking one is a long cut that splits his right eye in half. By the deepness of the cut, it seems a small miracle the man still has an eye left in there.
He nods at anyone looking at him, and looks to see his usual (having only sat there once before, mind you, but still his favorite) spot still empty, but next to a woman in shinning armor. He walks over to the it, looks at Grog and says "Something strong please."
He looks over to the female and says "Morning". Noting the work of her weaponry he could tell she was well trained at whatever she did. With that, Grog sets down a drink, which he downs half of in a single gulp.
Wednesday, 25th April, 2012, 01:42 AM #2345
Lama (Lvl 13)
The scarred man has scarcely settled in his seat and gotten his drink when the door opens once more, admitting a blast of heated marsh air along with an odd trickle of frosty air that smells of snow and mountain passes. A tall figure is momentarily silhouetted in the doorway before it swings closed and those inside can make out a tall athletic woman carrying a sword even longer than she is. Eyes such a pale shade of blue they're almost colorless scan the room, and the woman begins sliding through the crowd. She shifts the sword easily from hand to hand as she moves, plainly so used to its presence that it's almost an extension of her body.
She nods at the man as she passes, plainly previously acquainted. "Aradra."
She moves nimbly through the room to the bar and stands patiently until Grog makes his way over. "Ale, please."
"Every normal man must be tempted, at times, to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats."
-- H.L. Mencken
Wednesday, 25th April, 2012, 04:26 AM #2346
Waghalter (Lvl 7)
Recruiting for Mopping Up
The door barely gets a break as a messenger comes in with a poster for Grog to post on the bulletin board. Looking for Adventure? Eager to explore the wild frontiers of our world? We may have the job for you. Savi Fur Trade, Inc. is taking applications for guards and mercenaries on behalf of Baron Maskon of the Lost Hills. Applications will be taken at their offices until the caravan leaves Venza for Tritower and beyond in two days time.
Mopping Up Recruitment
Wednesday, 25th April, 2012, 04:35 AM #2347
Cutpurse (Lvl 5)
The purple gnome sitting at the bar perks up at the appearance of the messenger. Making his way over to the bulletin board, he reads the notice with raised eyebrows. "Now this sounds interesting. Come on, Lu," he says to the odd amalgamation of a creature nearby, "let's go check this out."
Ni gathers his things, hops on his companion, and rides on out the door. The two are a sight to behold, indeed.
Wednesday, 25th April, 2012, 04:38 AM #2348
Waghalter (Lvl 7)
Wednesday, 25th April, 2012, 05:55 AM #2349
Guide (Lvl 11)
Orlando Furioso, human Bard/Rogue
Orlando skips to one side as the purple-skinned gnome and his... whatever in creation that thing is, rides out of the Dunn Wright Inn. Shaking his head he slips inside the bar and stands just inside the entrance as he looks over the current occupants:
The ice queen with the over-sized sword he doesn't know, nor does he know the elf, the woodsy fellow, or the man with the flaming red hair. Some of the locals look familiar; Orlando is sure he's seen many of them in here before. And, of course, the echoes of Zitteaux' shouting is familiar.
The red-haired beauty at the bar, the dancer, if he remembers correctly, he's met once before... Winding through the tables and patrons Orlando makes his way to the bar where he takes the stool next to the woman at the bar opposite the woodsy fellow. Orlando taps the bar.
"Wine." He looks sidelong at the woman. "We've met, haven't we? Ah... Cynthea?"
Last edited by GlassEye; Wednesday, 25th April, 2012 at 07:02 AM.
Wednesday, 25th April, 2012, 09:08 AM #2350
Magsman (Lvl 14)
Tired of study Relic makes his way down stairs. He asks for a cup of wine at the bar and takes a seat by the fire where he takes off his boots to warm his feet.
Moments later the old man seems to be snoring gently.
'I am a predator...the predator improves the race...I kill but not out of hate.'
Frank Herbert: Emperor God of Dune