Even Newer(er) Tavern Thread: The Hanged Man

[GROMkill]

Interpreting Vanessa's tone as interested, Nave pipes in. "You see, I am a holyman, a cleric, and I train under Zagreus' name. I'm from the Imperium, and, long story short, I *accidentally* stepped through one of the portals and ended up on an island."

Trying to make the story short after telling it minutes prior, Nave continues hastily. "Anyways, a merchant vessel not unlike the kind that that idiot resides on..." He points to Howler, scowling, but with more of a teasing humor in his tone than previously. "They spotted me, and that's how I'm here. I'm trying to find my way back, unless I can find more to do here, which seems to be the case lately."

Scratching his temple, Nave looks at Vanessa quizzically. "What lovely profession do you involve yourself in?"

 

[modus666]

Howler remains impervious to Vanessa's attempts to defuse the rivalry between himself and Nave. He rubs his chin with one hand, saying "Some people have ta be more flexible and lack the luxury of being adamant in their morality. I think I'll hold on to that one, that's clever. Anyway, I've seen all kinds of places, like," Howler pauses for a second, dozens of incriminating answers flitting through his mind. "Like the Isle of Opposition, and Old Allaria, and anyway, you from around here? You seem a lot less frigid than the local doves. Er, ladies. You're, what's that word the Professor used to say? Approachable."

"No I'm not from these parts originally. Small farming town some distance from here. Totally landlocked. You wouldn't have heard of it. Buuuut you know how it is. Small town life. Nothing to do but get married and have kids, blah blah blah. Wasn't for me. (there is just the faintest hint of sadness there...) So I ended up here. Been looking for gainful employment off and on ever since."

Vanessa smiles (somewhat ironically) at being called approachable.

"Well, since coming to the "big city" I've learned a few things. One is that you should never get the casks of 'Liquid Gold' ale and Elven Elderberry Brandy confused when serving dwarves. The second is that everybody... (long pause) has something to offer. Something they can help you with, something you can learn from them, whatever. And you'll never find out what that is if you come across as being better then anyone else. Especially since I know I'm not. (she adds that last part conspiritorially, with a wink). Plus it really hurts your tips."

At this point there is a small pile of wood shavings collected at Vanessa's feet. She noticed this and kicks them away and picks a few out of her boots, muttering under her breath.

Interpreting Vanessa's tone as interested, Nave pipes in. "You see, I am a holyman, a cleric, and I train under Zagreus' name. I'm from the Imperium, and, long story short, I *accidentally* stepped through one of the portals and ended up on an island."

Trying to make the story short after telling it minutes prior, Nave continues hastily. "Anyways, a merchant vessel not unlike the kind that that idiot resides on..." He points to Howler, scowling, but with more of a teasing humor in his tone than previously. "They spotted me, and that's how I'm here. I'm trying to find my way back, unless I can find more to do here, which seems to be the case lately."

Scratching his temple, Nave looks at Vanessa quizzically. "What lovely profession do you involve yourself in?"

Vanessa frowns suspiciously when Nave mentions that he is a cleric.

"You certainly don't come across like the priest back home. Never had much use for religion myself. Dont get me wrong, I have nothing against the gods (she tosses an apologetic glance at the ceiling) it's just that... I've usually had... more pressing concerns. If you follow me."

Vanessa glares at Nave when he calls Howler an idiot. She suddenly stops carving on her little wood block and slams the knife blade first into the table

"Okay you two. I've had enough." She withdraws her knife and points it at Nave, "YOU, stop talking down to people, its rude, and you certainly aren't impressing me with your attitude."

"And you," pointing the knife at Howler, but speaking somewhat more gently, "Keep your hands to yourself. Roughing people up doesn't earn you any points with me either."

Vanessa sighs, "Geez it's just like the MacGreggor brothers back home. Some things never change."

Calming down.

"Now... as far as what I do for a living that seems to vary from week to week. Last week I was working at the Bloated Boar serving drinks. This week... my options are open. In between, I carve little sculptures to pass the time and earn me some spare change." She gestures to her still formless wooden block and goes back to carving on it.

 

[Pentius]

Howler frowns as the knife is pointed at him. He's had enough sharp things pointed his way that the implied threat rolls off, but he recognizes that Vanessa isn't too happy. He elbows Nave in the ribs, "Shuck it, Preener!" he says under his breath, "You're ruffling the dove!"

Howler puts on a reconciliatory smile and his accent and dialect come in a little stronger, as he tries to be more honest. "I know what it's like to have your options open. But hey, a sweet 'un like you oughta steer clear o' that line o' work. Scurry on the docks is, there's this hawk roamin' the night, leavin' honest sharps like us strung up and drained o' blood. It'd be a tragic sunrise that saw that fate for the likes of you."

OOC: Liked your wiki page Also, GROM and I have no plans to stop bickering, just so you know.

 

[GROMkill]

As Nave is called out and a knife is pointed in his face, his condescending tone turns to one of a more whiny and (even more) childlike characteristic. "Woah! Hey! Don't point that thing at me!" Throwing his hands out in an overly-dramatic fashion, Nave plays up the scene far more than he should.

"Howler! Your *brilliant* tactics have gotten this one into a bloodthirsty frenzy! Steel yourself before she murders the lot of us! Into pieces, she will hack us! Zagreus save me..."

[sblock=Insight 0]Nave is sobbing loudly as he yells at the poor woman.[/sblock]

OOC: A womanizer, a snob, and now a crybaby. How many negative traits can I pack into this character?

 

[Iron Sky]

Max nods to Dante. He then points to the ground where Virgil is eating the dragon wing and announces to everyone in a loud voice. That (pointing to the wing) used to belong to that! (pointing to the dragon head). Looking back at Virgil. Did ya eat the other wing on the way over here?. No wonder you two came in late. The warlord gives a sarcastic smile to the ranger.

Dante simply shrugs and shifts back further into the darkness, as if resistant to being noted or noticed. Virgil, however, looks up at Max, his burning yellow eyes blinking slowly a few times before he tears of a bloody strip of wing and lays it on Max's lap. In nudges it once, coughs oily black smoke on Max's feet, then goes back to eating.

 

[modus666]

Howler frowns as the knife is pointed at him. He's had enough sharp things pointed his way that the implied threat rolls off, but he recognizes that Vanessa isn't too happy. He elbows Nave in the ribs, "Shuck it, Preener!" he says under his breath, "You're ruffling the dove!"

Howler puts on a reconciliatory smile and his accent and dialect come in a little stronger, as he tries to be more honest. "I know what it's like to have your options open. But hey, a sweet 'un like you oughta steer clear o' that line o' work. Scurry on the docks is, there's this hawk roamin' the night, leavin' honest sharps like us strung up and drained o' blood. It'd be a tragic sunrise that saw that fate for the likes of you."

OOC: Liked your wiki page Also, GROM and I have no plans to stop bickering, just so you know.

As Nave is called out and a knife is pointed in his face, his condescending tone turns to one of a more whiny and (even more) childlike characteristic. "Woah! Hey! Don't point that thing at me!" Throwing his hands out in an overly-dramatic fashion, Nave plays up the scene far more than he should.

"Howler! Your *brilliant* tactics have gotten this one into a bloodthirsty frenzy! Steel yourself before she murders the lot of us! Into pieces, she will hack us! Zagreus save me..."

[sblock=Insight 0]Nave is sobbing loudly as he yells at the poor woman.[/sblock]

OOC: A womanizer, a snob, and now a crybaby. How many negative traits can I pack into this character?

Vanessa shakes her head sadly, ignoring the majority of the outbursts happening in front of her, she seems to be focusing on her carving as a way of blocking out some of what shes being forced to deal with.

			Could be worse I suppose... could be the dwarven ladies night all male review night at the Bloated Boar...

She does, however, quirk an eyebrow at Howler's mention of recent night-time murders.

"A tragic... sunrise indeed. I've heard some of what you're talking about. Word is whoever's responsible is targeting the worst sorts though. So I'm not too worried."

OOC: thanks. glad you liked the page. hope it gets approved. i havent seen any characters from HoS on the list yet. it should be among the approved sources yes?

 

[MetaVoid]

"Should we help little lady?" whispers Drew to his more wordly companions (Felix) as the discussion of dragon rights finished and new discussion started.

 

[twilsemail]

Felix has been, this entire time, laughing at the scene unfolding. When Drew asks if they should help he stifles his laughter long enough to say, "I'll bet you a fist full of gold she's more than either of them can handle. Unless you think we need to save them? She's been at the right end of that knife more times than she's been at the wrong end of one."

"Still..." Felix says quietly before calling out to Vanessa, "Miss, if you'd like some more... sedate company, we've a seat free over here. We're also less likely to wind up fighting over you. Though that may be a disappointment after getting so much attention."

 

[pacdidj]

An old woman bumbles into the tavern, apparently in mid-sentence, talking to a drowsy-looking brown rat perched on her shoulder.

[sblock=Auntie Mab and Tristram]

[/sblock]

"..why you've been so sleepy lately Tristram. It's almost like the adventuring life-style doesn't agree with you. But, you'll just have to wake up! We're short on funds again after paying that rude artificer for a better knife, and I'm going to need your help finding a mark when we get back to the Hanged Ma-... Oh," she says realizing that she's already reached the Tavern.

"Ahem," she clears her throat, standing up straight and drawing her cloak hem across the lower half of her face in an apparent attempt at an impressive and mysterious posture. "I am Mabbeth Tarmikos! Slayer of demons, greebles, and bazzlebaums, and a fey-touched seer of great arcane power, gifted with the sight to peer through the veils and up the skirts of destiny!," she intones in her best husky, narrator's voice.

"But you dearies can call me Auntie Mab," she adds in a normal tone, dropping her cloak and favoring all assembled with a batty smile, as the rat scampers down off her shoulder. "My friends and I are just back from dispatching a cowardly dragon at Earl Lee's estate in north Daunton," she says with a wave at Max and Dante.

"And to, um, celebrate our victory, Tristram and I will be offering consultations half-off! Only 10 gold coins to read the lines of fate etched in your palm, or 15 for a full Allarian cross spread, to see what the cards forecast. Who dares to peer through the veil at the glories that their future holds?," Mab asks, sizing up the clientele.

"What about you sir? You have the look of one bound for great deeds," she says to Sharpe, smiling her most ingratiating smile. "But perhaps you need some help navigating the winding path of destiny. After all, you seem to have trouble keeping track of your weapon," she motions toward the floor where Sharpe's songblade lies at her right hand side, while Tristram sits at her left looking as innocent as a rat can manage.

Tristram's Thievery Check (1d20+18=34)

Picking up the blade, and handing it back to the half-elf she asks, "How about it? Can I interest you in a palm reading to help you navigate the obstacles ahead and keep track of the tools you'll need to win your way to glory?"

OOC: Auntie Mab, Level 8 Rogue, is back and ready for more adventure!

 

[Someone]

"And to, um, celebrate our victory, Tristram and I will be offering consultations half-off! Only 10 gold coins to read the lines of fate etched in your palm"

Letters spin on the automaton's chest.

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*THE HINGES IN MY HANDS ARE DESIGNED FOR OPTIMAL GRIP AND MOBILITY*
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