Sharn Tavern: The Tower's Shard

[stonegod]

After the odd lizard leaves, the familiar battered jacket and even more battered plating of the warforged Weapon appears. Unlike the barbarian Ahki who accompanied him earlier, the construct does not seem freshly flush with wealth. If anything, it looks more battered. Upon entering, it says, "I am still Weapon. I still seek purpose." Its tone is morose.

The warforged makes its way to sit near Kharas. It sees the socialite make its way to the dwarf, but says nothing.

 

[Velmont]

"Seens some real heroic... danger... mystery. Ah! That's the best I've heard in the last few days." He tells to Sinope before taking a sip of dwarf spirit. "If I would say the lasts days have been doing some heroic deeds, I would have surely some ancestors who would awake from there sleep to knock me hard on my head. Except if you are talking travelling with a lunatic, a depressed warforged, a bloodthirsty man and a false dwarf being being dangerous, well, it might be the case."

Kharas looks at the door as a warforged enter the place. "Here it one of them. Hey, Weapon, you want to take a seat? I think if you want to depress a bit, you've found a good place. Nothing but a caravn job is shown on the billboard."

Returning to Sinope "We have just visited the sewer of this town, nothing interesting except get rid of some old and bigs annoying bugs." he takes a sip of his mug. "Oh! And a few of the Lord's of blade minion too. They are worst then rats."

 

[Rystil Arden]

"The Lord of Blades...more rumours fly about around than Warforged than ten ordinary men. Some say he isn't even real. Some say he was once a noble champion in the Last War gone wrong. Others say that the name is a title that has been possessed by multiple Warforged over time...in any case, his hatred of all those who live and breathe is legendary. You may not consider it heroic, but your defeat of his interests was surely heroic."

 

[stonegod]

The warforged shrugs. "It was basic need. Preservation. That or entropy." The 'forged stares at the table. "It disabled me. There is nothing between disabling and rewakening. No sense of time. Just one moment and the next, disjoint. It must be like sleeping, but without dream. And more painful. Much."

 

[Rystil Arden]

"Warforged don't dream? I hadn't thought of that, but it makes sense...just like a full elf, like my mother used to explain it, although she mentioned a reverie-like trance rather than just a nothing. Still, I would say that fighting the Lord of Blades, for a Warforged, was more heroic than you say--I'm sure his forces would have accepted you into their fold had you murdered your living comrades and told them you saw the light, for instance," Sinope offers.

 

[Velmont]

"Your right. Preservation. I just wanted to saved my skin, 'cause the first one we met almost killed me." adds Kharas. "At least, it worth teh trouble. That schema gave me some idea. I'll have to see a thing or two at some moment."

 

[Aristeas]

The gnome shuffles over to the small knot of newcomers, McGuffin still in hand. "Hello there," she says, "I'm Sirrel. We seem to share an interest in not guarding caravans. Do you mind if I join you?" Assuming no one objects, she clambers up into a chair and takes another tiny sip of her drink. "Speaking on behalf of the living and breathing portion of the world, I think it was very heroic of you not to decide to slaughter us. To say nothing of fighting against those who do."

 

[Patlin]

Rio takes an interest in the bulletin board notice.

Wroat? Haven't been there before. Well, my instructions were to "travel to broaden my mind" and a little bit of spending money couldn't hurt...

Looking about, however, it seems to him that the caravan guard positions have allready been taken. He turns his attention towards the discussion.

"A meditative trance is surely well within your grasp, Sir. If the lack of dreams pricks at your heart, perhaps you could seek this elvish state?"

 

[stonegod]

"Speaking on behalf of the living and breathing portion of the world, I think it was very heroic of you not to decide to slaughter us. To say nothing of fighting against those who do."

"I am a solider, not a butcher. I fought because that is what I was created to do. Why exterminate someone, anyway? The natural state tends towards decay anyway. No reason to hasten things. *sigh*"

"A meditative trance is surely well within your grasp, Sir. If the lack of dreams pricks at your heart, perhaps you could seek this elvish state?"

The warforged shrugged, but did not comment. Meditation was something for those that needed their minds taken off something. Passive oblivion. He'd prefer to see it fully aware.

 

[Someone]

A rather tall and spindly man enters the tavern. Long but sparse black and grey hair surround the back of his head, and his msile shows a good deal of irregular yellow teeth. "Hi!... ehh"[/color=green] says when he reads the sign. "I'm Tam Aritz, talented warrior of sorts, looking for an use to this" Tam points at the large and wicked polearm he's carrying "preferably one that could fill my purse."

"Meanwhile, I'll have a drink."