A Day in the Life of Adventurers (Mista Collins)

[Mista Collins]

It is late afternoon on Mul, Therendor 9th, 998. The weather today is a typical hot and humid day in Sharn with the dark clouds in the distance promising rain. The bustle of Markenny Plaza in The Bazaar district of Middle Dura can be heard through the doors of The King’s Soldier as you are gathered at your table waiting for your evening meal. Old man Pater Wrighten can be heard in the back grumbling to Nelt Sharik that he is over cooking the hen and potatoes again. Pater’s wife, Monesti, sits with the elf Kaelys Tela. Both ladies seem to be enjoying their semi-daily educated discussions about history and antiquities of past ages. Sigor Dorn, the Karrnathi merchant who sells some of the finest paper from that nation in the local marketplace, seems to be enjoying his solitude at a table all by himself.

Finding shelter from the hot air, the young lad Pol Kemble, enters the inn and immediately spots all of you sitting waiting for your meal. He walks over with his same smile on his face that never changes and starts asking his barrage of questions. “So Mark 24, what is it like to not having to sleep? Knya, when will you perform again? Val! Can I hold your sword? Jal, can you make those fancy lights again for me? Isa, did you hear that joke about the clockmaker and his dog? Runila, why aren’t you helping Old Man Pater?”

“Because she worked hard enough yesterday and deserves a break today.” Old Man Pater says as he is carrying 6 bowls of stew in his arms and sets them on your table. “What are you ladies and gents going to do tonight? I hear there is a nice show at the Diamond Theater. Apparently, Luca wrote a new play. Something about her work amazes me. You folks should go out and enjoy yourselves.”

 

[Primus]

Jal blinked three times for effect as the highly energized and talkative Pol circled them like a humanoid tornado. He ignored the questions of the man and the innkeep instead regarding his stew with a critical eye, pushing it around the bowl with a spoon for some moments as if looking for something. When his search turned up nothing, the sorcerer eventually put the spoon into his mouth and consumed the warm concoction.

"I h-had ot planned on doing anything this night," he said somewhat quietly, his eyes staring unfocusedly.

 

[Bront]

Valahandra looks over at the youth but sees that she is distracted by her next question. She is relieve when Pater comes with the stew and answers Pol's question, which seems to placate the use. She reminds herself that the youth is not from Valenar, and apparently such behavior is acceptable here. She smiles and nods politely to Pater as he sets down her stew.

"A show? What kind of show is it?" Valahandra asks before she samples the stew. The old man did know how to cook.

 

[Someone]

“So Mark 24, what is it like to not having to sleep?

"Same as 2/3 of your own life." says the warforged. "I have never slept, therefore I can´t tell the difference."

...says as he is carrying 6 bowls of stew...

"Nor do I eat" continues, as he stirs the food with an armored finger. "Don´t you find it disgusting? Swallowing a mashed paste mixed with your own fluids?"

 

[Kerrz]

Runila looks at Old Pater as he brings up the stew, but declines her instincts to help him, knowing that the man would rather serve her than have her put herself to trouble again.

With a sweet smile she looks up at the old man and thanks him heartily for his serving and the hospitality of his house.

She looks around the table before diving into her bowl, making sure that all of her companions are eating and drinking heartily, or atleast pretending in the case of Mark 24. When she determines such is the case, she makes short work of her meal and enjoys every bit.

After the meal is done, she pipes up with, "You know, Pater is a good man, and I believe he would not lead us astray with this talk of a new show by Luca. It should be fantastic. What do you folk think of his idea? Should we go?"

 

[Goddess FallenAngel]

Kyna smiles and shakes her head slightly at Pol. "I know not, young one."

She accepts the bowl of stew, and looks with amusement at Mark 24. "It is necessary. We haven't a choice but to eat, so eat we do." She carefully blows on a spoonful to cool it before eating.

At Pater's words about the new show, she looks up. "A play sounds like a fine idea. I haven't been to one in ages." She looks around the group. "Come, it will be fun, I am sure.."

 

[Mista Collins]

"Nor do I eat" continues, as he stirs the food with an armored finger. "Don´t you find it disgusting? Swallowing a mashed paste mixed with your own fluids?"

With a the same small and the quickness of youth behind him he grabs the bowl infront of Mark 24, "Not at all! I am actually very hungry!" The food seemed to be the solution to the talkative young boy, whom doesn't look up at all from his food until it is finished.

"You know, Pater is a good man, and I believe he would not lead us astray with this talk of a new show by Luca. It should be fantastic. What do you folk think of his idea? Should we go?"

"I hear the show is funny, but my ma' wouldn't let me go. She said it isn't for my ears. Too much talk about the Last War. Bah, I told my ma' that I be old enough now to hear it. I do hear worst on....." Whatever he was about to say can't be heard as the loud sound of glass breaking drowns it out. What once used to be one of the front windows is now gone as a rock has been thrown through it. As your attention is drawn in that direction and then back to the rest of the inn, it takes a quick second to see that Pol is now cowering under the table.

The sound of what might be many voices can be faintly heard coming from outside.

 

[Kerrz]

At the ruckus, Runila pushes her chair back and jumps down from her seat as she peers towards the door over the top of the tables. She takes a measured walk towards the front door with a scowl on her face.

Deciding that any answers are to be found outside, the beautiful little warrior makes her way to the door. With a quick prayer to sweet Boldrei in hopes that the inn can remain a safe haven, she opens the door to search out the cause of the disturbance.

 

[Bront]

Valahandra snaps alert and her eyes glaze over just with a grim determination. She moves towards the door to see what the rucus is all about, one hand on her weapon ready to draw it at a moment's notice.

 

[Someone]

The chair creaks in relief as the warforged gets up, collects his things and walks outside. "There seems to be some kind of disturbance outside" says unnecesarily.