The Swords of Imarr: Midnight at the Meat & Gristle

[S'mon]

"Ah, its just a scratch," Hrothgar says with a grin. But I would like to know what this is about, and I can always use a drink."

15 minutes later, Alyx and Hrothgar are esconced at a corner table, being served beer by a buxom blonde barmaid while Alyx applies a healing poultice to Hrothgar's shallow thigh-wound, then bandages it (Hrothgar back to full hp) and Hrothgar enjoys the sight of a couple of Marrakeen dancing girls performing on the long bar-top to the sound of a lute. Little blue stars wheel and dance around the girls, courtesy of Gwal the Gristle's resident prestdigitator, then turn into birds and burst in a shower of sparks, eliciting gasps of wonderment - and slight fear - from several of the more naive patrons.

Her ministrations completed, Alyx the Picklock flicks the barmaid a couple of copper coins, then launches into her explanation in a low voice.

"I, er... recently 'acquired' a map - a copy of an old treasure-map... It shows the old burial catacombs beneath this tavern. Ever heard of the Amulet of Althuvion? No? It's a Sidhe* artifact - from Angarin, from before the Mongali massacred the elves. It's said to be very powerful - worth a fortune, and sacred to the Angarin Sidhe. And the map shows it's located in the catacombs right under our feet! But the map says it's protected - 'guards & wards' - I can deal with traps okay, but 'guards' in a catacomb likely means somethin' nasty, I'm thinkin' - so I reckoned a bit o' muscle to help me out wouldn't hurt..."

Alyx grins, patting Hrothgar's bulging bicep.

"What do ya say? We get the amulet, I can find a buyer, no probs - couple of thousand gold in it for ya, easy!"

She grins, then glances over to a far table where a white-bearded old man in pale grey robes is talking with a cowled figure in black-enamelled breastplate, a woman. Alyx frowns...

*Half-elven descendents of the elves of Angarin.

 

[rangerjohn]

Hrothgar

"I, er... recently 'acquired' a map - a copy of an old treasure-map... It shows the old burial catacombs beneath this tavern. Ever heard of the Amulet of Althuvion? No? It's a Sidhe* artifact - from Angarin, from before the Mongali massacred the elves. It's said to be very powerful - worth a fortune, and sacred to the Angarin Sidhe. And the map shows it's located in the catacombs right under our feet! But the map says it's protected - 'guards & wards' - I can deal with traps okay, but 'guards' in a catacomb likely means somethin' nasty, I'm thinkin' - so I reckoned a bit o' muscle to help me out wouldn't hurt..."

Alyx grins, patting Hrothgar's bulging bicep.

"What do ya say? We get the amulet, I can find a buyer, no probs - couple of thousand gold in it for ya, easy!"

She grins, then glances over to a far table where a white-bearded old man in pale grey robes is talking with a cowled figure in black-enamelled breastplate, a woman. Alyx frowns...

*Half-elven descendents of the elves of Angarin.

Hrothgar enjoyed the dance, as Alyx administered to his cut. He then enjoyed his beer and ordered another round. While listening to her tale.

Then when he was going to ansewer her in the affirmative, he notices her wayward gaze. "Now I'm not the brightest star in the night sky, but what's the likelyhood of that?" Hrothgar ask as he sees Alyx look across the way, at the newcomer.

 

[Faoiltiarna]

Lady Faoiltiarna Turn 1

Lady Faoiltiarna is at a corner chair in the Meat & Gristle tavern with mild disapproval watching the taverns' dancing-girls perform to the sound of a lute. The tavern is starting to fill up with evening trade, a few casting curious glances at the expensive black-enamelled breastplate Faoil wears, hardly normally urban attire. Faoil pensively sups a decent goblet of wine. Then she looks up as the person she has been waiting for enters the tavern - Bernard the White, an elderly white-bearded sage who has promised her the answers she seeks...

Bernard spots Faoil and walks over, long pale-grey robes swishing on the flagstones. He nods cordially and sits down across the table from her, leaning his oakwood staff against the wall. Though aged his face is ruddy, he's broad-shouldered, bright-eyed and looks in excellent health.

"So, millady Faoil, I can tell you what you need to know. But in return, there is something you must do for me..."

His gaze rests on the hilt of the heavy sword Faoil always carries.

[tag]

Faoil fought down the fury within her that wanted shatter the chains of bondage that the dancing girls were forced to bare. She knew all to well, that could as well be herself forced to perform for the lustful stares of the patrons.

"Someday," she vowed silently, "I will put an end to the barbaric practice of slavery and free those unfortunate ones who are forced to well the cold metal of a collar."

The approaching figure of the Sage Bernard redirected her attention and she nodded for him to sit down. She listened silently to his words and stiffened as the mention of the need for her to do something for him. In her mind echoed a similiar proposal in which she was tricked into agreeing to give up her freedom to the now long dead demon, Zorn.

"It depends of what you have in mind Wise One," she stated flatly, not making any promises. Before Bernard could reply, she pulled a simple gold chain out from beneath her clothing. An engraved amulet hung from the chain, archaic engravings etched into the dull surface.

"This was found about my neck when my foster parents found me outside their door. On the back is scratched in my name. I feel certain that this amulet may be the key to the answers I seek. If we can reached an agreement I will entrust the amulet to you for your research," Faoil voice was low and quiet.

Faoil could feel eyes looking at her. Glancing up she spotted a man and woman watching her discourse with Bernard. Making note of their interest, Faoil's hand brushed her sword in preparation of any necessary defense. Her prior experiences in Imarr had honed her paranoia to a fine point. Returning her attention to Bernard, she added, "So what is you price Wise One?"

::tag::

 

[S'mon]

Faoiltiarna:

Bernard the White looks down at the ancient etchings on Faoil's amulet, and smiles a little, as if struck by some irony.

"It is as I thought... my divinations have already revealed much of your heritage, milady Faoil, though doubtless there is more still to discover."

He pauses.

"There is a relic sacred to my Order... also an amulet, called the Amulet of Althuvion, created millenia ago in the lost elven realm of Angarin. Two centuries ago, Wizards of the White Way stole it from the dungeons of the Mongali High Sorcerer, Omazad, and brought it here to Imarr. Members of my Order followed them, but were unable to recover it, and it was long thought lost to our ken."

Bernard brushes a stray strand of white hair from his face. In the tavern lamp-light Faoil notices the old sage's right ear, it seems curiously pointed. Himoos' ears were like that...

"But now at last we have tracked the Amulet to its resting place, in ancient catacombs here beneath this very tavern! It will not, however, be easy to recover, and I am an old man now, frail. The strength of former days has left me... I require your assistance. Swear that you will recover the Amulet for me, and this very hour I shall tell you all that I know of your past!"

Bernard's blue eyes stare at Faoil with an almost frightening intensity, all his attention fixed upon her. He seems oblivious to the pretty, dark-clad girl and the powerfully built barbarian who regard him from a nearby table...

 

[S'mon]

Hrothgar enjoyed the dance, as Alyx administered to his cut. He then enjoyed his beer and ordered another round. While listening to her tale.

The blonde barmaid - Alyx calls her Edira - smiles winningly at Hrothgar as she brings over two more foaming tankards of ale, and leaning over low to serve them the plunging neckline of her low-cut red dress affords the young barbarian a glimpse of impressively rounded cleavage.

"Here y'are, sir!"

Then when he was going to ansewer her in the affirmative, he notices her wayward gaze. "Now I'm not the brightest star in the night sky, but what's the likelyhood of that?" Hrothgar ask as he sees Alyx look across the way, at the newcomer.

Alyx turns back to Hrothgar, looking slightly startled.

"Likelihood of what? I don't follow..."

Hrothgar notes that while the white-beard seems oblivious, his metal-armoured female companion has clearly noticed Hrothgar and Alyx looking at them...

 

[rangerjohn]

The blonde barmaid - Alyx calls her Edira - smiles winningly at Hrothgar as she brings over two more foaming tankards of ale, and leaning over low to serve them the plunging neckline of her low-cut red dress affords the young barbarian a glimpse of impressively rounded cleavage.

"Here y'are, sir!"

Hrothgar returns the smile, and gives the lass a silver for the drinks and the show

Alyx turns back to Hrothgar, looking slightly startled.

"Likelihood of what? I don't follow..."

Hrothgar notes that while the white-beard seems oblivious, his metal-armoured female companion has clearly noticed Hrothgar and Alyx looking at them...

Retuning his attention to Alyx, Hrothgar replies.
"You tell me a tale of elves, and two show up in the tavern. Don't tell me you didn't notice, you just got through staring at them. By the way the one in black has returned our interest."

 

[S'mon]

Hrothgar returns the smile, and gives the lass a silver for the drinks and the show

Edira smiles flirtatiously at Hrothgar as she pockets the coin, brushing a lock of long blonde hair away from her face.

"Thankee kindly sir!"

She gives him a wink as she saunters off to attend to the next patrons.

Retuning his attention to Alyx, Hrothgar replies.
"You tell me a tale of elves, and two show up in the tavern. Don't tell me you didn't notice, you just got through staring at them. By the way the one in black has returned our interest."

Alyx gawps at Hrothgar.

"Elves? Why do you think... some kinda barbarian thing? They're not elves..."

She says, looking back at Bernard and Faoil (Faoil can see this) - though she seems a little unsure as she speaks.

"I ain't never seen an elf, of course, but surely..."

Alyx frowns, looking thoughtful. Then she leans in close to Hrothgar and whispers:

"Reckon I know that guy though, the old geezer in the robes. Ten gold to a copper he's after the same thing we are... and I don't like the look o' his companion, that's some serious hardware she's wearin' and carryin'. Reckon we need ta decide now, either we offer ta team up with 'em, or... ...not."

Alyx the Picklock touches the well-worn hilt of the rapier at her belt, making her meaning abundantly clear. She glances to the window - it's now full dark outside.

"I asked another guy to meet us here, a sword-swinger too... reckon he shoulda been here by now."

Alyx sounds increasingly nervous.

 

[S'mon]

Denther Mose - Turn 1

A dark-tanned man - Kartislander, by the look of him - pushes aside the Gristle's double doors as he enters the tavern. Two Marrakeen dancing girls have just finished performing on the counter-top, and are climbing down to collect some coppers from impressed patrons. At a table nearby a pretty dark-haired girl with a rapier at her belt is seated with a muscular young barbarian - she's looking in his direction and meets his eye a moment, but apparently was looking for someone else, for quickly looks away.

Further off, Denther spots the man he's come to see - the sage, Bernard the White, has requested the man-hunter's help in recovery - of an item, not a person. An amulet, apparently, presumably ensorcelled, and located in catacombs beneath this tavern. What kind of threat to its recovery might require Denther's particular skills - and sword - he can only guess at. Bernard mentioned that a third person would be accompanying them, and sure enough the Sage is in conversation with a hooded female, clad in black steel breastplate and with a heavy sword at her side. The woman has noticed Denther, but Bernard's gaze is on her, and he seems oblivious to all else.

[Tag Denther, Faoil, Hrothgar...]

 

[Faoiltiarna]

Faoiltiarna:

Bernard the White looks down at the ancient etchings on Faoil's amulet, and smiles a little, as if struck by some irony.

"It is as I thought... my divinations have already revealed much of your heritage, milady Faoil, though doubtless there is more still to discover."

Faoil thought her heart would leap out of her chest at his words. Could it be possible? Would she soon know who she was and where she came from?

He pauses.

"There is a relic sacred to my Order... also an amulet, called the Amulet of Althuvion, created millenia ago in the lost elven realm of Angarin. Two centuries ago, Wizards of the White Way stole it from the dungeons of the Mongali High Sorcerer, Omazad, and brought it here to Imarr. Members of my Order followed them, but were unable to recover it, and it was long thought lost to our ken."

Bernard brushes a stray strand of white hair from his face. In the tavern lamp-light Faoil notices the old sage's right ear, it seems curiously pointed. Himoos' ears were like that....

For a moment Faoil's elation to the possible success to her quest for answers was marred by the black cloud of suspicion at the sight of the Bernard's right ear. She managed to curb the suspicion that seethed in her soul. This was not Himoos. Himoos only brought harm and degradation to her, Bernard was offering her hope and redemption with the knowledge of her parentage.

"But now at last we have tracked the Amulet to its resting place, in ancient catacombs here beneath this very tavern! It will not, however, be easy to recover, and I am an old man now, frail. The strength of former days has left me... I require your assistance. Swear that you will recover the Amulet for me, and this very hour I shall tell you all that I know of your past!"

Bernard's blue eyes stare at Faoil with an almost frightening intensity, all his attention fixed upon her. He seems oblivious to the pretty, dark-clad girl and the powerfully built barbarian who regard him from a nearby table...

Faoil carefully digested his words. The last time she had agreed to follow someone into the environs beneath the city, she had been betrayed and nearly enslaved by the demon Zorn. Her grey eyes studied Bernard's face for any trace of malice emotionessly. Finally she nodded her head and stated flatly, "I so swear Wise One, upon the graves of my husband and foster parents."

::Tag::

 

[Faoiltiarna]

Denther Mose - Turn 1

A dark-tanned man - Kartislander, by the look of him - pushes aside the Gristle's double doors as he enters the tavern. Two Marrakeen dancing girls have just finished performing on the counter-top, and are climbing down to collect some coppers from impressed patrons. At a table nearby a pretty dark-haired girl with a rapier at her belt is seated with a muscular young barbarian - she's looking in his direction and meets his eye a moment, but apparently was looking for someone else, for quickly looks away.

Further off, Denther spots the man he's come to see - the sage, Bernard the White, has requested the man-hunter's help in recovery - of an item, not a person. An amulet, apparently, presumably ensorcelled, and located in catacombs beneath this tavern. What kind of threat to its recovery might require Denther's particular skills - and sword - he can only guess at. Bernard mentioned that a third person would be accompanying them, and sure enough the Sage is in conversation with a hooded female, clad in black steel breastplate and with a heavy sword at her side. The woman has noticed Denther, but Bernard's gaze is on her, and he seems oblivious to all else.

Faoil again looked over at the couple that seemed interested in her and Bernard. She did not like their undue attention. She lifted her head upwards, the hood still shielding her features and made it a point to look at the two. In a low voice she said to Bernard, "We have been noticed. Are you familiar with those two?" Her hand subtely motioned at Alyx and Hrothgar.

Faoil felt herself rising to her feet at the approached of Denther before she knew what she was doing. The man looked dangerous and she wasn't about to be caught sitting if his intentions were not of a peaceful nature. Her grey eyes stared at him intently, her hand resting almost casually upon the hilt of her sheathed sword.

[Tag Denther, Hrothgar...]