Even Newer(er) Tavern Thread: The Hanged Man

[WEContact]

She releases him roughly, the flames engulfing her losing most of their heat but little of their intensity as she waits for his reply.

OOC: You guys are all crazy she totally already let him go.

 

[H.M.Gimlord]

OOC: Oops. Sorry. Didn't see that. Retcon.

 

[H.M.Gimlord]

OOC: Oops: Doublepost

 

[CaBaNa]

OOC: You guys are all crazy she totally already let him go.

OOC: You're a towel!

 

[WEContact]

OOC: You're a towel!

OOC: That's the finest compliment I've ever received.

 

[Iron Sky]

"I quite agree," Brastrix motions politely, but platonically, to a stool beside him, "Please have a seat. I'm no threat of either flight or fight, as it appears that we might be able to help each other achieve our goals if we approach things civilly."

Phoenix takes the stood absently, the flames dimming down to a coruscating corona of burning light haloing her form. Her eyes never leave Brastrix. "This is as civil as I'll get. If you don't start talking about Rhagast, things might get heated between us. Talk."

OOC: Edit: I'm curious as to what was going on before the retcon. It would be... unfortunate if there was an actual fight in the tavern with Phoenix involved - pretty much every single power of hers is AoE.

 

[H.M.Gimlord]

OOC: There was no fight. The old post was just portrayed from the perspective of being handled by the neck. The retcon simply changed the perspective.

Brastrix meets her gaze evenly, "It's a little too late for that my lady," he rubs the singed scales on his neck, "I believe the heat has already been exchanged, but I feel that I can do my best to make amends," the dragonborn rocks back on his stool, and looks off into the distance, realizing that she is still watching him, "I know more about Brastrix after inquiring about yourself than I did while I was in Milibri, " he turns back to look at Phoenix, "You see, he's a bit of a newcomer in my part of the world, I run an enterprise involving five fine vessels with which I've managed to scrape together a comfortable living. This Rhagast shows up out of nowhere, having recruited the help of some right poor shipmates, boards my ship under a flag of friendship, and steels may cargo at swordpoint!" At this point Brastrix sighs, and shrugs with his palms up, "If this had been the extent of his afrontary, I would have simply said, 'Good Show!' and wished him well. After all, the ploy showed he had his heart in the game, but oh no." Brastrix's voice suddenly begins to turn sour, "That piece of leviathan scat decided to smear my name all over Milibri. He searched me down and handed over the coordinates for my ports of call to the Cytharian Navy. We had to move fast to avoid being overrun. Now he threatens to undo my network of resources and take over my position without so much as facing me on the open sea! The coward!" By this time he's breathing hard, "When he darkens that doorway," he continues, pointing at the door to the Hanged Man, "He won't make it past the threshold if I have anything to say about it!"

 

[Iron Sky]

A dark smile twitches at the corners of Phoenix' lips. "He must have liked you. Normally he would have crucified your crew while you watched, then tied you to the mast and burned you all alive."

"When he darkens that doorway," he continues, pointing at the door to the Hanged Man, "He won't make it past the threshold if I have anything to say about it!"

Again the tavern is alight in light and heat as Phoenix stands and faces the door, a dagger that gleams like quicksilver appearing in one hand, a simple iron staff appearing in the other.

"He's coming here? Now?" Her voice is husky, trembling with hatred, anticipation, excitement, and maybe a hint of something Phoenix has hidden for years... fear.

Denizens of the tavern begin clearing away from the door, but few leave; no one really sane comes to the Hanged Man just to drink, more to watch the non-stop spectacles and parade of strange creatures, heroes, and anti-heroes that constantly come and go. Those who are here now move to the edges of the room and order drinks judging there might be something interesting about to start.

 

[FourMonos]

Seeing the situation defuse, Artemis sits back at the table with Gil and Lerrick. His back to the table, the hexblade has his iron rod sitting in his lap watching the door and the pyromancer and her new dragonborn friend.

 

[CaBaNa]

Gil takes his cues from Artemis, and lowers himself back into a seat. The human fidgets still, looking uneasily from the door, to Lerrick and back. So... Where are you from? asks the scholar as casually as he can muster.