[Tavern Thread] The Dunn Wright Inn
ScorpiusRisk
First Post
Denizel listens intently to the stories, taking everything in. They seem to have proper backgrounds, even some modesty. Hardly the way to get to the top of society but likely useful while traveling. He gives a little smile.
"I'm afraid I'm not as knowledgable as either or you scholars when it comes to narrative lore. I serve Courtessa, but my practice has not been in the temple, but in the courts themselves, acting as a living beacon of my patrons teachings."
"I'm afraid I'm not as knowledgable as either or you scholars when it comes to narrative lore. I serve Courtessa, but my practice has not been in the temple, but in the courts themselves, acting as a living beacon of my patrons teachings."
Maidhc O Casain
Na Bith Mo Riocht Tá!
[sblock=Crypt Position]The position's been filled! (Thanks, pm!)[/sblock]
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Systole
First Post
Ben's eyes flutter close and he begins to lean forward a few inches before catching himself and abruptly pushing back.
"Hey, preacher! No sleeping in the common room!" Marla shouts, increasingly annoyed by the clueless young priest.
Ben nods and rises. "Sir Phoenicus, it was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, but I fear I'm more tired than I thought. I think I need to get some rest before they throw me out into the gutter. Perhaps we'll meet again sometime."
With that said, Ben staggers over to the counter and requests a room for the evening. Key in hand, he stumbles upstairs, clearly exhausted.
"Hey, preacher! No sleeping in the common room!" Marla shouts, increasingly annoyed by the clueless young priest.
Ben nods and rises. "Sir Phoenicus, it was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, but I fear I'm more tired than I thought. I think I need to get some rest before they throw me out into the gutter. Perhaps we'll meet again sometime."
With that said, Ben staggers over to the counter and requests a room for the evening. Key in hand, he stumbles upstairs, clearly exhausted.
GlassEye
Adventurer
Agno watches as Ben stumbles to the bar to get his key.
"Fare wells, Ben! We shoulds meet again so you give more tellings of Ulfgar the Strict and other warrior-prophets. Hurrr."
He turns to the half-elf, tilts his head to one side, and gazes with unblinking yellow eyes.
"Cortessa is goddess of hurrr... beauties and merchants. Which beacon of being are you?"
"Fare wells, Ben! We shoulds meet again so you give more tellings of Ulfgar the Strict and other warrior-prophets. Hurrr."
He turns to the half-elf, tilts his head to one side, and gazes with unblinking yellow eyes.
"Cortessa is goddess of hurrr... beauties and merchants. Which beacon of being are you?"
ScorpiusRisk
First Post
A knowledgable individual, best not to bluff- I like the way he cocks his head. . .
Denizel seems to take a moment to think about the best way to phrase his response. He adjusts his colar slightly, folds his hands, unfolds and smiles.
"There are many facets to our Lady Cortessa. I serve her in the matter of politics, and here, our courtly politics are a balance of beauty, art, and even mercantilism. It's a delicate balance of being as appealing as possible, in order to please others, so that they in turn will please yourself."
He leans back in his seat a bit. "At the moment though I am hoping to employ my gift with words outside of the courts a bit, to show people that by being appealing to others, you can often get what you want, in a situation once thought to be only solved with violence."
Denizel seems to take a moment to think about the best way to phrase his response. He adjusts his colar slightly, folds his hands, unfolds and smiles.
"There are many facets to our Lady Cortessa. I serve her in the matter of politics, and here, our courtly politics are a balance of beauty, art, and even mercantilism. It's a delicate balance of being as appealing as possible, in order to please others, so that they in turn will please yourself."
He leans back in his seat a bit. "At the moment though I am hoping to employ my gift with words outside of the courts a bit, to show people that by being appealing to others, you can often get what you want, in a situation once thought to be only solved with violence."
Systole
First Post
The door opens and a female elf in dark leathers stalks into the bar. Her face has been painted in stark black and white, so that an image of a grim-looking skull overlays her own dour expression. Trailing behind her, a dark, four-footed shape slips in as the door closes.
At first glance the creature looks wolf-like, but there is clearly something unnatural about it: its fur is midnight black except for the lower halves of its legs, which are blood red, and its eyes are crimson and slitted.
The elf glances around the room and selects an empty table with a view of the door and a solid wall at her back, then gestures for a waitress.
“Coffee. Sandwich,” she says.
“What kind of sandwich?”
“Don't care."
"What?"
"I. Don't. Care."
“Oh-kaaay. And your companion?”
“Bark?” the black wolf says, in what seems to be a hopeful tone.
“He doesn’t need to eat.”
“Woof,” the wolf says, dejectedly.
When the food comes and the elf begins eating, the wolf wanders over to the bar and looks at Marla with soulful puppy-eyes, although the effect is ruined somewhat by their rather demonic appearance. “Bark, bark, woof,” he says, obviously trying to cadge a handout.
“Are you paying?” Marla asks.
“Bark woof?” the wolf says, apparently confused.
“If you’re not paying, you’re not eating,” Marla explains as she polishes a mug. She glances up at the wolf, “Look, we get stranger things than you coming through here twice a day. I know what you are, and it’s not a wolf, so quit playing dumb.”
The wolf coughs, sheepishly. “Uh, not even just a little bowl of ale?” he whispers.
Marla snorts and turns away, and the wolf slinks off with his tail between his legs. A minute or so later, a voice from underneath Agno’s table murmurs, “Pssst … hey, buddy. Hey, bird guy. Is anyone drinking that glass of milk?”
At first glance the creature looks wolf-like, but there is clearly something unnatural about it: its fur is midnight black except for the lower halves of its legs, which are blood red, and its eyes are crimson and slitted.
The elf glances around the room and selects an empty table with a view of the door and a solid wall at her back, then gestures for a waitress.
“Coffee. Sandwich,” she says.
“What kind of sandwich?”
“Don't care."
"What?"
"I. Don't. Care."
“Oh-kaaay. And your companion?”
“Bark?” the black wolf says, in what seems to be a hopeful tone.
“He doesn’t need to eat.”
“Woof,” the wolf says, dejectedly.
When the food comes and the elf begins eating, the wolf wanders over to the bar and looks at Marla with soulful puppy-eyes, although the effect is ruined somewhat by their rather demonic appearance. “Bark, bark, woof,” he says, obviously trying to cadge a handout.
“Are you paying?” Marla asks.
“Bark woof?” the wolf says, apparently confused.
“If you’re not paying, you’re not eating,” Marla explains as she polishes a mug. She glances up at the wolf, “Look, we get stranger things than you coming through here twice a day. I know what you are, and it’s not a wolf, so quit playing dumb.”
The wolf coughs, sheepishly. “Uh, not even just a little bowl of ale?” he whispers.
Marla snorts and turns away, and the wolf slinks off with his tail between his legs. A minute or so later, a voice from underneath Agno’s table murmurs, “Pssst … hey, buddy. Hey, bird guy. Is anyone drinking that glass of milk?”
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ScorpiusRisk
First Post
The entrance of the elf and wolf-thing draws Denizel's attention for a moment, away from the conversation at hand. "There's something you don't see every day."
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GlassEye
Adventurer
"Indeed not."
He turns to the creature.
"Hurrr! I am thinking you are not a normal four-legged, dog-like predator beast, hurrr... wolf."
He stares at the creature with unblinking yellow eyes obviously trying to figure it out. Failing, he slurps the rest of his wine from the shallow bowl he drinks from then pours the rest of the glass of milk into it and places it on the floor next to the creature.
"What manners of being are you?"
He turns to the creature.
"Hurrr! I am thinking you are not a normal four-legged, dog-like predator beast, hurrr... wolf."
He stares at the creature with unblinking yellow eyes obviously trying to figure it out. Failing, he slurps the rest of his wine from the shallow bowl he drinks from then pours the rest of the glass of milk into it and places it on the floor next to the creature.
"What manners of being are you?"
Systole
First Post
As soon as the bowl of milk hits the floor, the wolf-creature begins noisily (and quickly) lapping it up. Even after the dish is empty, he chases it around the floor for a moment, trying to make sure he hasn't missed a drop. Satisfied there's nothing left, he emerges from under the table and looks up at the half-elf and the tengu.
"Well, 'normal' is a relative term, right? Where I come from there's plenty of red-taloned darkwolves running around." He preens a little. "I'm the biggest and handsomest of course. And the smartest, too, which is why I answered the call. But see, we don't have any elves or bird-guys. Or beer," he adds, and then ponders this for a moment. "On the whole, I'd say it's much nicer over here."
He glances around the bar. "So ... what do you guys do for fun around here?"
"Well, 'normal' is a relative term, right? Where I come from there's plenty of red-taloned darkwolves running around." He preens a little. "I'm the biggest and handsomest of course. And the smartest, too, which is why I answered the call. But see, we don't have any elves or bird-guys. Or beer," he adds, and then ponders this for a moment. "On the whole, I'd say it's much nicer over here."
He glances around the bar. "So ... what do you guys do for fun around here?"
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