Sharn Tavern: The Tower's Shard

[ajanders]

Kenn raises his eyebrows slightly as people start falling over.
"Now see, this is why I stick to absinthe."
He walks over to the supine Silvanon.
"You always know exactly what you're getting and you always know exactly how to mix it."

He bends over Silvanon and checks for breathing and a heartbeat.

"That prevents this sort of gaucherie."

Assuming he finds one, he pinches Silvanon's earlobe sharply, which usually wakes people out of a faint.

Silvanon awakes to find a pair of bright blue eyes looking at him from under the brim of a slouch hat.

"Whatever you're drinking, perhaps you should try something softer."
Kenn reaches out a hand to help Silvanon up.

 

[Bront]

Arvin walks over to Silvanon, looking for any... oddities about him

OOC: He have a visable dragon mark, or other oddity about him?

 

[ajanders]

Kenn looks at the terribly large and impressive man standing over him.
"I see you've been having trouble with your drinks as well tonight."

 

[Paranoia833]

Brelach's eyes raise, and a small smirk appears on his lips. Slowly, he slips his dagger into his hand underneath the table, while taking a sip of whatever liquid was put in front of him. Without seeming too suspicious, he activates his Detect Magic ability, looking around for any lingering, obvious magical effects.

Aside from the familiar and unremarkable glow of various magical items, there are some odd lingering auras on various patrons. Arvin, Silvanon and Mardigan (ooc: and Khuther if he's still here) have a dim but constant cloud of illusion magic swirling about them. Whatever was effecting them is clearly over, for now at least, but the fact that the aura shows no signs of dissapating suggests the magic employed was powerful.

 

[Wik]

"Interesting" Brelach mutters to himself. Unable to successfully analyze the dweomer, he curses silently.

Brelach's Spellcraft Check (1d20+5=11)

"Powerful Magic" he grunts. "Means money. Fun stuff, that." Getting up from his table, keeping an eye open for any obvious danger, he walks over to Arvin (he seemed the most in control of things).

His bright green eyes seeming to glow with a light of their own, Brelach leans in and whispers "Something isn't right here. Strange magicks have just been cast - illusions, I believe. Ithink it might be worthwhile to see who cast them - and you probably do, too, since you've just been targeted. Are you in?"

 

[Bogre]

Slowly turning after hearing a grunt, Bennit's brow perks up."Magic? What sorta magic? Is that why everyone just kinda, looked like a rock hit em in the face?" he queries towards Brelach, watching him advance across the tavern floor.

 

[s@squ@tch]

Silvanon jumps with a start,"By the blood of Vol, what the hell was that?"

He shakes his head, trying to clear out the cobwebs.

"I don't know what that was, but I surely don't want to go through that again," He exclaims.

"Thanks for the aid, stranger, I am Silvanon."

[sblock=ooc Bront] No visible dragonmark - it is on his shoulder [/sblock]

He then looks around the bar and notices a couple other patrons that look like they also just experienced what he did.

His ear perk up and he listens intently to the conversation between Arvin and Brelach, then gets up from his chair and strides over to where they are seated.

"Can you discern where these magicks originated or who the caster was?"

 

[stonegod]

Weapon follows Arvin around and notes the others having the strange reaction. At the mention of magic, he puts his hand on one of his large weapons, but does not draw it. "Do you need assistance, Chosen? I see no visible threat, but I am a Weapon against the visible."

 

[Paranoia833]

A well dressed half-elf stumbles through the door, from the looks of it she just took quite a hit, she’s bleeding visibly from the head, though it’s only a minor cut. Like the other dragonmarked in the tavern he has a faint glow of illusion magic about him to those who can sense such things. The mark of Detection is branded clearly across her head, arcing above her right ear.

“B-barkeep…” She begins, her voice shaky. She doesn’t seem to be seriously injured but she’s clearly not well. “I will have glass of- no, on second thoughts just give me a shot of whatever the strongest thing you serve is.”

She stumbles over to the nearest chair and collapses into it gratefully. After a few seconds recovering her breath she begins wiping the blood and sweat from her head with a silk handkerchief and looks around the room, noticing the various other patrons sprawled about in disarray.

“You felt it too I guess.”

 

[Wik]

Brealach turns toward Silvanon and sneers. "Do I look like I know who cast it? If I did, I'd be following them already! But trust me, I intend on finding out."

At the entrance of the woman, Brelach's eyebrows raise. "I guess it wasn't just a localized effect. Wonderful." he spits, sarcastically.