[Tavern Thread] The Dunn Wright Inn

[soulnova]

Quietly retreating from the scene, Amien makes his way to the bar as well, making his way to a seat near where Galandra is at, but not one right next to her, "I'll have a spiced ale." He glances over to her, "I guess you're not one of the names drawn either, huh? I suppose I should use my free time to visit the shop later."

"Heh, I didn't know they were drawing names. Hopefully wasn't something too good. I would hate to miss out" She raises her ale and drinks a little. Galandra is not overly fond of alcohol but, heck, she needed something after that close call at sea.

She nods and pats her pocket. "Yeah, you should go and have a look on their wares. I got a better bow and some other trinkets. I certainly want to be better prepared for next time we go out, but...-" her eyes widen. Galandra suddenly looks around. Something just caught her attention... a delicate scent of roses and sandal, easy to miss with the smell of ale and food going around in the tavern. She scans the room but she finds nothing. Galandra sits back, somewhat disappointed. "I... uhm...sorry. I thought... I thought someone else was here... you were saying?"

 

[Grayn]

A loud commotion is heard outside as a carriage stops in front of the inn.

The door swings open and a procession enters the establishment. A young human boy enters first, followed by three girls of equal age, a half-elf with blond hair and two elves, all quickly lining up in front of the door and standing at attention. They are dressed in smart house wear and look as if they are servants from one of the large estates.

A tall, thin elf dressed impeccably in a black suit with grey hair slicked back on his high forehead, walks past the four servants without taking notice.

He stops at the boy, who is at the head of the line, and slowly scrutinizes the room and its occupants with a contemptible look on his face. Raising his thin hand, he snaps his finger and points to an unoccupied booth in an empty corner of the inn.

The boy clicks his heals in confirmation and the four dart to the direction of the table. They produce a variety of rags and small brooms from unseen pockets and, in a flurry of activity, begin to efficiently and silently clean the booth from top to bottom.

In short order, the booth is cleaner then it has been in many years. Its old wood shines with a renewed luster that only the skilled hands of this small crew could produce. One of the elf girls produces a deep purple cloth with subtle gold embroidery around its edge and flings it over the table. With a quick hand and the help of the second elf girl, she smooths the cloth and covers the table. The human boy places a small silver candle stand that holds two white candlesticks on the newly covered table.

As the four finish their work on the now very presentable table, they once again line up along the wall next to the booth and stand at attention, waiting for their next order.

A small hooded figure, covered from head to toe with a red cloak, suddenly steps from the shadowed far corner and silently makes its way across the room. At the table, the small figure produces a deck of unusual cards, small silver mirror and what looks like a bird cage covered with a dark black cloth. These are set purposely on the table. When completed, the hooded figure backs away from the table, towards the wall and hides behind the four youth, still standing at attention.

The old elf watched the four (and the additional fifth, who did not appear part of the party) sternly from across the inn. When they completed, he stepped to the bar and rapped the rail to get the barkeep’s attention.

 

[stanleyindraven]

Frederick watched in amusement as the spectacle unfolded before him.

 

[Grayn]

A half-orc that was minding the bar walked over to the elf. He was still a bit taken back by the unusual scene that had just taken place in the corner of his inn and stared blankly at the stern elf.

“Good sir!” the elf said intentionally louder and sharper than normal to gain the barkeep’s full focus, “We will need a bottle of your best Hajji Feruz vintage.”

The bar keep stared at the elf blankly for a moment and then slowly started to look around the back bar. The elf raised a thin eyebrow as he watched the bartender’s obvious confusion.

“Very well, apparently we will have to settle on a bottle of Godin Tepe.” The elf ordered as he pulls a fine handkerchief from his pocket to clean his fingers. “But, only the best year!” he adds.

The half-orc doesn’t even try to pretend to have a bottle of Godin Tepe behind the bar this time. He is not sure what it even is. The elf’s eyes narrow as the two lock into a desperate stare; the half-orc trying to understand the requests, the elf trying to understand if the barkeep was really this dense.

“Fine, just a bottle of your best….” The elf begins to rub his forehead in frustration “house wine.” He says “house” like it is sour milk. “And a plate of cheese, fruit and bread…if it is not spoiled” he finished with an air of obvious contempt.

The half-orc pauses, but then a look of relief passes over his face. This is an order he could provide and barks for the barmaid to get it together. Proud with his accomplishment, he looks back at the elf. “Anything else I can get for yer?”

“Yes, Dame Morrogrim will require your finest suite. Spare no expense, a large bed with fine linens and definitely her own washroom with a bath.” he said.

The barkeep’s eyes glazed once again and his mouth dropped open, moving silently up and down, trying to form a response.

“W…We…we only got one type of room, mista’.” He finally said. “S…S…sorry.”

The elf’s face paled and his icy blue eyes bore holes into the half-orc. He began to visibly shake in anger and frustration.

 

[Grayn]

At that moment, a tall woman, dressed in a dark, long gown, a shawl over her shoulders and her alabaster hair, held up in a loose bun with a modest headband, walked confidently through the door and towards the elf. She carried a long, black cane with a clear crystal handle and the smell of jasmine and incense followed her.

“Whatever room is available will be adequate, Joasten.” She said to the elf as she placed an elegant hand on his arm. The elf looked up at the woman and weakly smiled; then he looked back to the half-orc.

“Just give us a room and send all expenses to the Lady Gollertine estate.” Joasten concluded and turned to the lady.

“Dame Morrowgrim, we have a table for you.” Joasten motioned to the table in the back. Dame Morrogrim moved passed the elf so gracefully that it almost appeared that she was not walking, but floating. The clicking of her cane and soft sounds of her boots on the wooden floor were the only things that betrayed the illusion.

“Please let Lady Gollertine know that her hospitality is most graciously accepted and thank you for your assistance, Joasten.” Dame Morrogrim said and then leaned towards the elf’s ear. She whispered something in his ear that made the old elf smile thinly and slightly blush.

“Oh, thank you, ma’am!” he said, slightly flustered, as she sat down in the booth. As she slid onto the bench, flames suddenly leapt to life on the ends of the two candles. The youngest elf let out an audible squeal in surprised which garnered the immediate attention of Joasten.

“Alright, out!” he said with a quick clap. At that, the four left the inn in line. Joasten turned and with a deep bow to Dame Morrogrim, followed his team.

“Shellia!” Dame Morrogrim spoke to no one in particular. The small figure that was behind the four servants, appeared from hiding in the heavy curtains. She approached the table and lowered her hood to reveal a young hafling with hair as red as her cloak.

“Take this letter to Lord Ellingwood in the clothier’s district. He is expecting it.” Dame Morrogrim handed the girl a letter with a red wax seal. “Stay in the area and I will send Olkoi when it is time to depart.”

“Very well, ma’am.” The halfing said with a slight curtsy, as she slid the note under her cloak. She turned and headed for the door while putting her hood back over her head. She was nearly out of sight, moving through the shadows by the time she exited the inn.

Just as the entire entourage departed and Dame Morrogrim was settled in the booth, the barmaid arrived with a bottle of wine, a glass and plate of various cheeses and hard bread.

 

[Grayn]

[sblock=OOC]Sorry about the lengthy post(s), but apparently the Dame Morrogrim is all about the "entrance". [/sblock]

 

[WindCrystal]

"I... uhm...sorry. I thought... I thought someone else was here... you were saying?"

Amien looks over his shoulder but his body still facing the bar in his intent to keep himself in occupation at the spot, easily distracted by the fancy elf and his collection of distractions following about him. He responds to Galandra in a bit of bewilderment, "Not a damned clue what I was saying anymore. It had to be him you saw because he's definitely some-elf that knows how to be seen."

Unwinding his neck back to where his head is naturally turned with his body again, he still can hear the requests that are being made that are too good for this establishment, "Surely doesn't know how to dust off his trousers with his own hands though."

The ale he orders is brought to him at this point. He holds the coins over the open palm of the tender awaiting the payment and lets them drop. After gulping the first of the drink, he slides his sleeved arm over his face to get the froth off, and finds an opportunity to speak again about what they were talking about before, "I still need to get another healing potion don't I? I wasn't too happy that I couldn't find one on the shelf before the job."

When he hears a feminine, but still well spoken voice dismiss the elf that was causing such a fuss, he glances over his shoulder in distraction once more. He takes a drink while watching, and then after that he comments, "To think I was hoping I wouldn't be seeing any more nobility pretending that every tent is their mansion."

 

[soulnova]

Amien looks over his shoulder but his body still facing the bar in his intent to keep himself in occupation at the spot, easily distracted by the fancy elf and his collection of distractions following about him. He responds to Galandra in a bit of bewilderment, "Not a damned clue what I was saying anymore. It had to be him you saw because he's definitely some-elf that knows how to be seen."

Unwinding his neck back to where his head is naturally turned with his body again, he still can hear the requests that are being made that are too good for this establishment, "Surely doesn't know how to dust off his trousers with his own hands though."

The ale he orders is brought to him at this point. He holds the coins over the open palm of the tender awaiting the payment and lets them drop. After gulping the first of the drink, he slides his sleeved arm over his face to get the froth off, and finds an opportunity to speak again about what they were talking about before, "I still need to get another healing potion don't I? I wasn't too happy that I couldn't find one on the shelf before the job."

When he hears a feminine, but still well spoken voice dismiss the elf that was causing such a fuss, he glances over his shoulder in distraction once more. He takes a drink while watching, and then after that he comments, "To think I was hoping I wouldn't be seeing any more nobility pretending that every tent is their mansion."

Galandra gives Amien a weak smile. "Oh no, I was certainly not looking for that elf, heh..." she glances at the strange entrance of the elf boy. Dame Morrogrim and her servants. "Although, the one I'm looking for would have loved to chat with them."

"I'm looking for my sister. She ran away from home for... well, I don't know. Fame and riches? Something like that. Town life wasn't her liking. I came to Venza looking for her, make sure she wasn't in real trouble but it seems I get side tracked." She sips again at her ale. "Damaris, is her name. Blonde hair, fair skin, sky blue eyes. She... she smells of roses" she explains as a second thought. "She can sing."

 

[DalkonCledwin]

Opening the door to the tavern ever so cautiously, a tiny Halfling female wearing her hair in a bun with a headdress that appears to be designed to resemble Swan Wings looks into the Tavern from behind the Door. She doesn't see anyone that looks too threatening, other than that one woman talking to the Elf. But she supposes that she can chalk that up to the woman's inexperience with the dangers of the world based on the way she carries herself. The Half-Orc Barkeep looks as though he has seen plenty of danger in his days as an adventurer however, leading the Halfling to relax at least a little bit. Deciding it was safe to enter the Tavern she opens the door ever so slightly more allowing enough space for her small frame to enter the Tavern.

The Halfling, now on the inside of the Tavern, instead of hiding behind the door, reveals that she is wearing impeccable armor crafted from some of the finest metal chain links this side of the Harran Forest. She is also wearing what appears to be a gold filigree belt, as well as a silver band of metal on her ring finger. Her cloak is made of some of the finest white cloth to have graced such a tiny form. And despite the fact that she is so tiny, she is exceptionally beautiful and perfectly proportioned for her size. She does not however wear any boots, though unlike other Halflings, her feet do not show any fur on the tops of them.

She walks over to the nearest unoccupied table and proceeds to sit down, listening to the discussions going on in the tavern as unobtrusively as she is able.

 

[WindCrystal]

Looking over to Galandra as she describes her sister, Amien scratches his cheek and his eyes trail upward as he tries to think, the features described seeming too good to be true, "What you describe sounds like a perfect woman, and I know for sure I've never seen a perfect woman up close." He won't admit he isn't sure what roses smell like compared to other smelly plants. "The fame part will be easy for her to find.. Myself, I don't care much about fame. I don't even need to be rich, just not so poor."