[Tavern Thread] The Dunn Wright Inn

[jbear]

Relic doesn't answer the question right away. He remains silent for quite some time in fact. Finally a look of decision comes across his face and he finally responds.

Well, Quoian Scorchsong, in some places they might call that prying. But if we are indeed going to work together to resolve Dane's problem, it is only fair enough that you know that I won't be a hinderance to anyone if things turn sower. There was a time I considered myself a promising young apprentice of the Art, perhaps not dissimalar from yourself. Not all of that knowledge has been lost over the years, and I'm sure in some way or another i can make myself useful.

I have been collecting spells I once knew into a spellbook. Perhaps sometime in the near future when the moment allows we could compare notes to share and expand our knowledge...

The Adventurer's special finally arrives, and Relic settles into the food with great vigor, relieved not to be talking about himself anymore.

 

[Qik]

Quioan sat back, his hands raised in a gesture of surrender, a genuine look of surprise on his face. "No prying intended - just an attempt at friendly conversation." Crossing his arms, he stared off to the side, bothered by the man's standoffishness. Humans... he thought. While he meant them nothing but good will, he had always failed to grasp the short-lived races; having grown up almost exclusively among elves, with only the occasional visit of a human academic to his forest home of Ilumistai, he had had relatively little experience with them before leaving his home shortly after turning 110. Even with years of experience traveling since that time, it seemed as though he still had a lot to learn about their kind.

 

[Systole]

A short, scarred, savage-looking elf wanders out of the back room. He walks over to the hearth, and several of the patrons mutter under their breath about a "stench that would gag a sewer rat," while looking darkly in his direction. However, their fears seem to be exaggerated, as anyone close enough to notice will find he smells only very faintly of wet dog.

The elf immediately sees the merfolk woman and does a short double-take, then sighs and looks down at the brightly colored toad in a small cage strapped to his belt. "Musts quit the toad-lick for some days, I thinks," he mutters to himself, not sparing her another glance.

At the fire, the elf pulls a half-dozen skinned and skewered rats out of a pouch and sets them on the coals. While he turns the kabobs so that they cook evenly, he half-hums, half-sings to himself.


[sblock=For Elvish speakers]I werre all the lassies was a big field o' clover
And a famished stag I, to nibble all over
Oh rail your leg over, rail your leg over,
Rail your leg over, the fullin' o' moon.[/sblock]

 

[jbear]

Qwoyemmm woookwon ebfyowr bwafas, mebbe e en umm ...

Relic realises that in his boyish excitement noone can understand him with his mouth full of stew, swallows with some effort. He washes it down with what remains of his ale coughing as most of it goes down the wrong pipe.

Quioan, look, one of your brothers. Maybe he can come along with us and offer some muscle. If he can hunt rats and lick toad ... a posing rogue should pose little problem for him. It may not be what the Wind blew in, more like what the cat dragged in, but a stroke of luck is a stroke of luck!

Greetings, Rat Hunter! We are about to hunt a house! Would you do us the honour of guding us with your sharp eye and protecting us with your strong arm?

 

[Systole]

As Relic approaches Daylily from behind, the elf immediately turns around in a ready position with a snarl on his face, apparently defending his food. When he sees it's only an old man, he relaxes somewhat. He looks Relic up and down once, and then spends a few seconds processing the dialogue.

"I am think you say 'house,' but I ams being not correct, I am think. You cities peoples make build house, not make hunt house. Unless maybe I am mistake that for 'mouse' ... but those are being small, with not so much meats, yes?"

He turns back to the fire and turns over the roasting rats. "I can giving a rat or two, Elder, if you is be hunger. But I am promise to hunt cubs of wolf priest for to save, and to hunt takers of wolf priest cubs for to hit with hammer, very much, very hard."

OOC: Daylily is already committed to another adventure, but we're waiting on someone for the moment, so I figured I'd lounge around the tavern a bit and introduce myself to people I'll probably be going on my next adventure with.

 

[Qik]

Ignoring Relic's remarks (which Quioan found to be borderline racist - he was fast developing a distaste for the elder man, who seemed to favor jibes and evasion to straightforwardness), Quioan studied Daylily. Although clearly an elf, he seemed distinct from the hallmarks of their kind (or at least, Quioan's perception of them) in most every respect: covered in a ragged assortment of furs, layers of grime, and more than a few scars, he was a far cry from the usual elven appearance that Quioan grew accustomed to back in Ilumistai (even at his worst, after months of traveling, Quioan had never neared the sight - or smell - of Daylily). Still, he clearly carried himself with the physical prowess of an elf. Quioan was intrigued.

Making his way over to the fire, Quioan drew Daylily's attention. He introduced himself in Elvish. "I'm Quioan Scorchsong. What name have you earned? And where do you come from?"

OOC: Edit: Let's assume Quioan actually isn't firing three questions at Daylily all rapid-like; it just makes for easier conversation via PBP.

 

[Systole]

Daylily takes the rats off the fire before he straightens up and turns around with one of the kabobs in each hand. He takes a measure of Quioan, who has clearly had a soft and pampered upbringing -- above and beyond the soft and pampered upbringing of these city folk. Disdainfully, he takes a large, juicy bite of rat before answering.

"I ken we are well met, fair brother Scorchsong," he replies in Elvish through a mouthful of rat. The accent is thick, but there's an unmistakable sarcastic edge, especially to the words 'fair brother.' "I am of Clan Falshenaya, and honored to bear the name of Daylily, which I won fair at Grand Clansmeet last. In the scrum, it dear cost me half an ear, but then in kind I bit clean off the nose of he who did take mine ear, who wert but a lowborn mud-lick of Clan Gregga. I reck I did well by-the-by in bargain."

He takes another bite of rat as Quioan asks about his origin, then replies in Elvish, "Anon I be on walkabout from yon Jirago, a great westering trek across the endless waters from these far-begotten lands. And where be ye from, ye proud lad of yon wild hunt and e'er-bloomin' green?" This last question just drips sarcasm.

He offers uneaten rat to Relic. "Is wanting squeaky-meat, elder?" he asks in Common. "Ams happy to sharings with you and with ... Elf-brother."

OOC: Daylily got a bit of an unwanted cleaning in another thread, so he's slightly less grimy and odorous than usual -- thus the wet dog smell. But there is sort of a natural grubbiness to him.

 

[Qik]

The barbarian's clear disdain stings, doubly so on the heels of Relic's own repudiations. Quioan can't help but wonder if coming to Venza was in fact a mistake.

"I come from Ilumistai, a forest village to the east. And you should save your scorn for your enemies, Falshenaya clansman from the west - I bear you no ill, and can, in fact, hunt with the best of them, regardless of what aspects of my upbringing you see in me. Perhaps you'll get the opportunity to see so in time."

At the snide offering of food, Quioan responds, in elvish, "I have no desire to eat with one who derides me." His offense is palpable.

In his mind, Quioan wishes that their pick-up group would get on with their inquiry into Dane's relocating house soon, fearing that the longer he stays in the tavern, the more disdain he'll suffer; the presence of task would be a welcome distraction from some of the unfriendlier interactions his afternoon had brought.

 

[jbear]

It would be an honour to share your hunt with you Daylilly. Maybe one day I can share my hunt with you in kind.

He happily takes the roasted rat, his belly already full to near bursting after the adventurer's special after long months of meagre foraging in the wild, a smile spread on his face from ear to ear at the wild elf's generosity.

It saddens me that you have already pledged yourself to a hunt. We are in need of someone like you.

He notices the tension set into Quioan's body, and the anger set into his jaw line, but ignores it, letting it brush by as he let brush by his other remarks. He settles into the rat with visible enjoyment with no need to make further conversation, waiting for the Wind to blow his way.

 

[maquise]

A lanky young man enters the room, carrying a big bag of supplies. Setting them down, he sits quietly and watches the crowd for a while.