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Even Newer(er) Tavern Thread: The Hanged Man
- Thread starter L4W Facilitator
- Start date
VanderLegion
First Post
Tyris moves to the table and takes a seat. He pulls a paper from his cloak and scribbles a message on it - "I am Tyris. If exotic is what your people desire, I shall give them performance such as they have never before seen." He slides it across to Tlacamatli.
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Dekana
Explorer
Lenard smiles and shakes his head as the danger-seekers sign up with Tlacamatli. He turns his attention first to his rum and then secondly to his spellbook. He finally picks up his quill and begins writing a new page.
He says, now obviously drunk, "I can't *hic* just wait around. I need this new shpell for my attacks."
Several minutes pass as Lenard traces out an arcane glyph onto the blank page. His eyes occasionally wander away from the writings, to the adventurers, and to his drink. He sometimes finds himself staring at the wall in front of him for several seconds before even noticing what he's doing.
[sblock=anyone sitting close to Lenard]You notice that the air around Lenard is getting noticeably hotter as he writes. It seems to be emanating from the spellbook. Every time Lenard's quill slips carelessly across the page, the temperature jumps up another several degrees.[/sblock]
Lenard, now sweating very heavily, tugs at his collar. He keeps inscribing the rune, albeit at a faster pace as he tries to finish up. After a few moments, a burst of steam suddenly hisses out of his spellbook and toward the ceiling! Lenard leaps up from his seat in alarm.
"W - what the?!"
Before Lenard or anyone else can act, the spellbook explodes in an orange ball of flame! The conflagration leaps directly from the book and onto the young mage. He doesn't even have time to scream - the flames consume him within a moment's time. The inferno then disappears, the force that was sustaining it now gone. All that remains of the young man and his possessions is a tiny pile of dust on the floor.
Friends don't let friends write spells drunk.
He says, now obviously drunk, "I can't *hic* just wait around. I need this new shpell for my attacks."
Several minutes pass as Lenard traces out an arcane glyph onto the blank page. His eyes occasionally wander away from the writings, to the adventurers, and to his drink. He sometimes finds himself staring at the wall in front of him for several seconds before even noticing what he's doing.
[sblock=anyone sitting close to Lenard]You notice that the air around Lenard is getting noticeably hotter as he writes. It seems to be emanating from the spellbook. Every time Lenard's quill slips carelessly across the page, the temperature jumps up another several degrees.[/sblock]
Lenard, now sweating very heavily, tugs at his collar. He keeps inscribing the rune, albeit at a faster pace as he tries to finish up. After a few moments, a burst of steam suddenly hisses out of his spellbook and toward the ceiling! Lenard leaps up from his seat in alarm.
"W - what the?!"
Before Lenard or anyone else can act, the spellbook explodes in an orange ball of flame! The conflagration leaps directly from the book and onto the young mage. He doesn't even have time to scream - the flames consume him within a moment's time. The inferno then disappears, the force that was sustaining it now gone. All that remains of the young man and his possessions is a tiny pile of dust on the floor.
Friends don't let friends write spells drunk.
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Mewness
First Post
[sblock=ooc]Lenard can join Zombie Livia.[/sblock]
"It is a ball game," replies Tlacamatli, before taking Tyris's slip of paper and reading it. "Ty-ris," he reads carefully, turning to the newcomer to make sure he is pronouncing the name correctly.
[sblock=prospective players]Just keeping a record of possible recruits. Asterisks indicate people who do not have any characters in adventures yet.
Leader: Hú Lí, fox spirit cunning bard (BenBrown)
Striker: Noriaki, human thaneborn barbarian (Pentius)*
Leader: Takahaan, dragonborn bravura warlord (GROMkill)*
Striker: Tyris, shade executioner (VanderLegion)*[/sblock]
"It is a ball game," replies Tlacamatli, before taking Tyris's slip of paper and reading it. "Ty-ris," he reads carefully, turning to the newcomer to make sure he is pronouncing the name correctly.
[sblock=prospective players]Just keeping a record of possible recruits. Asterisks indicate people who do not have any characters in adventures yet.
Leader: Hú Lí, fox spirit cunning bard (BenBrown)
Striker: Noriaki, human thaneborn barbarian (Pentius)*
Leader: Takahaan, dragonborn bravura warlord (GROMkill)*
Striker: Tyris, shade executioner (VanderLegion)*[/sblock]
VanderLegion
First Post
Tyris nods to Tlacamatli, indicating his pronunciation is acceptable.
GROMkill
First Post
Taking a seat in front of the masked figure, Takahaan attentively listens to Tlacamatli, showing deep interest in the potential for fame and honor.
"Tell us more about these Games, Masked One. Such chances to prove my mettle are greatly intriguing."
Neurotic
I plan on living forever. Or die trying.
"I'm fine, Mab, no need to shout. And thank you, little one, I appreciate the help, but I am really quite comfortable around here."
Listening to the dwarf he shrugs. Travel far and wide and maintain his ruse would be difficult. Though, travel far from The Brotherhood had it's appeal.
"Should I change my persona and introduce myself?
But no, they are looking for eager young, hungry for fame, I would not like being paraded in front of the crowds."
He finds a quiet table and sips his tea.
"May I? I want to see what you look like." he raises his hands toward diminutive fey...and with it's permission, caresses it to 'see' what it looks like.
OOC: You need only beat DC 37 with insight to see through his ruse.
Listening to the dwarf he shrugs. Travel far and wide and maintain his ruse would be difficult. Though, travel far from The Brotherhood had it's appeal.
"Should I change my persona and introduce myself?
But no, they are looking for eager young, hungry for fame, I would not like being paraded in front of the crowds."
He finds a quiet table and sips his tea.
"May I? I want to see what you look like." he raises his hands toward diminutive fey...and with it's permission, caresses it to 'see' what it looks like.
OOC: You need only beat DC 37 with insight to see through his ruse.
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twilsemail
First Post
The tiny grig pauses for a moment before fully grokking the situation. "Of course!" he says with entusiasm, posing heroicly with his hands on his hips. "How did you lose your sight?"
Another of the Grigs hops onto the mantle of the fireplace and begins tuning his fiddle, after a few moments it appears he is playing. The noise of the tavern is enough that only those very nearby can hear him. Those that do cannot help but dance to the enchanting tune.
The captain rises from his seat and strolls over to the masked figure. His face is an implacable mask when it comes to revealing what he's sorted out. "Captain Valentine Dartmoor. I would come to compete, with my men by my side, if you'll have me. I'm sure we can show these tall folk a thing or three about combat." A loud cheer rises from the table full of piskies.
It is around this time that the ordered roast arrives at the table. The piskies descend upon it like a swarm of pirahna. The meat almost dissolves before the onlookers' eyes. A rather satisfied looking female lieutenant steps out of the swarm to adress their server. "Miss? Another ale, if you would, Eoin decided to go swimming in the last one." Sure enough, a mostly naked piskie can be seen lounging in the first bowl of ale.
Another Piskie, wearing a loincloth and a lot of blue warpaint, heads directly for the spot where Lenard combusted and begins sniffing around.
Another of the Grigs hops onto the mantle of the fireplace and begins tuning his fiddle, after a few moments it appears he is playing. The noise of the tavern is enough that only those very nearby can hear him. Those that do cannot help but dance to the enchanting tune.
The captain rises from his seat and strolls over to the masked figure. His face is an implacable mask when it comes to revealing what he's sorted out. "Captain Valentine Dartmoor. I would come to compete, with my men by my side, if you'll have me. I'm sure we can show these tall folk a thing or three about combat." A loud cheer rises from the table full of piskies.
It is around this time that the ordered roast arrives at the table. The piskies descend upon it like a swarm of pirahna. The meat almost dissolves before the onlookers' eyes. A rather satisfied looking female lieutenant steps out of the swarm to adress their server. "Miss? Another ale, if you would, Eoin decided to go swimming in the last one." Sure enough, a mostly naked piskie can be seen lounging in the first bowl of ale.
Another Piskie, wearing a loincloth and a lot of blue warpaint, heads directly for the spot where Lenard combusted and begins sniffing around.
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johnmeier1
Explorer
Raijin bids Noriaki a swift goodbye as he joins his friend, the sorcerer avoiding the dragonborn's notice and moving over to join Illarion.
I have a question of the arcane, Illarion. My staff needs greater enchantment, but I am unfamiliar with the art of crafting. Have you knowledge of such?
I have a question of the arcane, Illarion. My staff needs greater enchantment, but I am unfamiliar with the art of crafting. Have you knowledge of such?
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