City of Orussus, The Red Dragon Inn IX

[Scott DeWar]

Quarion nods thoughtfully, "So you have taught yourself the ways of the wilderness? Interesting. I have known a few rangers in my century of life, and they all gained their knowledge from the trees and the beasts who live there. You must have a calling." To Pendrake, he says, "The drinks are always free at the Red Dragon."

"Ah!free!...Mein favorite price!" though clumsy with manners, it is redily apperent that he at least is trying to politely get the attention of one of the servers, "ah...uh...er...Frau...new drinkun fer all, bita?"

At the arrival of the new person he has pendrakes attention untill he mentions the sholder blading (OOC: sorry for the subtle pun there), then all thought of an honorable fighter goes right out the very door that was just opened. A grimace forms on his face at the mention of calling a knife in the back as 'work'. The need for a professional locksmith and trapspringer, though, is always handy for the adventuring work, so the frown is short lived.

 

[NakuruSai]

Mordik seems not to react to the grimaces and comments of the killings. Does he not notice the social cues or does he just not care? He stops trying to straighten his wild beard and sits back when no one directly responds.

"ah...uh...er...Frau...new drinkun fer all, bita?"

As the waitress walks by Mordik he nods a thanks and gives a crooked grin as he is given ale. He sits quietly by himself having said his part with his back to a wall and an eye to the door. You're not sure when you catch a cursory glance if Mordik is keeping intent watch for an "employer" or if he's ready to dart out of the tavern at a moment's notice. He takes a long pull of his ale as he waits.

[sblock=ooc]
edit- continuuity, I'm sitting at the bar. not a table.
[/sblock]

 

[GnomeWorks]

Quarion
"Sereg'wethrin. Amin caela n'nador en tanyarim ndenginarin."

"Just a tad judgmental, don't'cha think?" Troi asks, raising an eyebrow. "Ya gotta do what ya gotta do, y'know? It's a dangerous world ou' there. We all find ways ta get through it."

 

[Rae ArdGaoth]

Quarion Holimion, Elven Druid

"You approve of his actions? I do not, and no good elf I have ever known would either. The despicable drow are known for their society of constant political assassination. That is no way to live. And do not compare the victim of an assassin to the prey of a predator. I am a druid, but I am not a fool." Quarion is as stubborn as any elf who has had a hundred years to become set in his ways.

 

[GnomeWorks]

Quarion
"You approve of his actions? I do not, and no good elf I have ever known would either. The despicable drow are known for their society of constant political assassination. That is no way to live. And do not compare the victim of an assassin to the prey of a predator. I am a druid, but I am not a fool."

Troi shakes his head. "I said nothin' 'bout approvin' of it." He says quietly. "Ya do what ya gotta do. An' ya seemed ta jump ta conclusions there. He didn' say anythin' 'bout bein' an assassin, he jus' said that he's been known ta stab things in th' back when there's a need. Sounds more like somebody tha' resorts to violence if there's a need more'n somebody who does it fer a livin'. Not all things can be settled wi' words, y'know?"

 

[Rae ArdGaoth]

Quarion Holimion, Elven Druid

"I understand well the need for violence. In the forest it is a way of life. In the city, it is inevitable. Law enforcement must fight fire with fire, there is no better way." Quarion glances as the wild-haired dwarf, contemplating his words before he speaks. He takes a breath, as though about to speak, and then pauses again. Finally, he says still staring at Mordik, "Perhaps you are right, Troi Delmontes. Dwarves are not known for their way with words, and I have been guilty of preemptively judging creatures in the past." He thinks back to an event in his not-so-distant past. "I thought I had put all that behind me, but maybe I am not so impartial as I think." He pauses again. He opens his mouth to greet the dwarf... but then closes it. He exhales, and turns away, back to his goblet of wine. "Ahyainye avá." The proud elf frowns unhappily.

Elven Translation:

Spoiler

I am not perfect.

 

[GnomeWorks]

Quarion
"Ahyainye avá."

Troi nods slightly. "May I never be complete. May I never be content. May I never be perfect." His voice is calm and collected, devoid of his usual accent. When he resumes, his accent does, as well. "Tha's somethin' my teacher taught me, back in th' day. Good words ta live by. Ya can't be perfect, an' there's no sense in tryin'. If ye're perfect, what poin' is there ta keep goin', y'know? Life doe'n't hold anythin' fer somebody who's got nothin' more ta learn."

 

[NakuruSai]

As the day draws on, Mordik drinks a few more ales and his gaze seems to wander. He notices Troi and Quarion talking...perhaps a little late.

If ye're perfect, what poin' is there ta keep goin', y'know? Life doe'n't hold anythin' fer somebody who's got nothin' more ta learn.

Mordik gets up and starts over carefully, not really "walking" so much as "not staggering".

Aye, bu' I wouldn' have a problem with mebbe near perfect! Mordik sways a little by Troi's chair... I figgur a mountain to call me own with some servants and concubines... Mordik let's out a boistrous laugh and slaps Troi on the back. But then sighing and shaking his head: but then some things just ain't meant to be. Mordik seems to start to lose balance but then grabs a chair nearby and flips it under him quickly as he sits.

As though he meant it to happen that way all along he adds, So..erm..what'cha guys say ya do fer a livin again? whatcher specialties? Mordik focuses an eye on the thin elf's clothing...I figgur you're a woodland strider and... Mordik now focuses on Troi... ..and...yer mebbe... he looks at the whip on Troi's side... ...mebbe...an animal trainer? or somethin?

 

[jkason]

Eanos, human monk

A broad-shouldered human enters the Inn, clothed in earth tones that might suggest him a woodsman if not for the more exotic weaponry he wears.

"Eanos is my name," he says, introducing himself as is customary before ordering a small bite to eat.

"I see my long wandering gave you plenty of time to beat me back, Quarion," he says to the elf, then gives a sideways glance and a smile to the scarred dwarf.

"And you've stayed in one piece, I see, Mordik."

 

[Rae ArdGaoth]

Quarion Holimion, Elven Druid

Quarion raises his drink in greeting to Eanos. "Greetings, monk. Garma and I also wandered, but I have seen these forests a hundred times, and my young legs grow restless. I came here in search of travel opportunities, but I was pleasantly distracted by this fine company." He gestures to the humans at the table. "Speaking of fine company... You know this dwarf?" With a sour look on his face, he nods toward the drunken Mordik.