[GI] A Game of Improvising IC Introduction

[wings]

Enter Faileas.

Faileas sighs, tiredly. He had decided to move away from the coast some, the proximity of the sea tormented him, but he wasn't ready to go back off-land just yet. He travelled by foot, wearing his traveling boots out and his muscles also, in their own respect. His simple clothing was fine, but the cloak he wore thus far was quite dirty. He wore a simple black shirt, with a tied up collar, worn open, so much that the thin white links of his chain shirt was noticeable. His dark brown pants were tucked mid-calf into leather boots. The Quarterstaff had become his walking staff. The shaped wood in the center unused, where normally it would be fitted to his hand, the iron shod ends in white wraps.

He pushed open the door by falling into it, and stumbling in. He walked to the bar and mumbled something. The thin, wiry haired tender raised a brow. "An ale, and a room, if you've got them to spare? Oh! and a bath, and some dinner." He nods, the idea of a bath revitalizing his spirit. He dug into the bag, it strapped across his chest and held by the opposite shoulder, the strap held six vials of soft blue liquid in pouches on it. He lifted the top flap, to dig into an inside pocket that held his gold. "How much?"

As he waited for his order to be filled, he slumped into a counter stool. Here you are Faileas, wandering about, on land, in a place that took entirely to much effort to get to. I hope you're happy with yourself. Oh, shut up. Man, im hungry

"Make it a dinner and a half!"

He pushed the white hair of his behind his shoulders.

 

[Guilt Puppy]

As the door swings slowly shut from Faileas' entrance, a gloved hand pops forth, and pushes it back open. A lithe young figure garbed in loose pale-cream cloth, tied tight between the joints of his limbs, comes jogging in behind him. His face and head are covered, wrapped in a loose whitish cloth, his eyes barely visible. Indeed, you see barely any flesh aside from his throat, and his sandaled feet -- his skin is dark, richly tanned, carrying still the sheen of youth. A large quarterstaff is strapped to his back -- a thin, nuanced curving blade emerges from each end, the lower almost scraping across the ground. A thick dagger lies sheathed upon his belt, opposite a thick leather pouch.

He catches up to Faileas, steadies him as he sits. He slides sideways, almost weightlessly, onto a seat of his own, and sits erect, the staff on his back hanging perfectly vertical. He makes a few hand gestures at his white-haired companion, who seems to have trouble following... Finally, he leans in, and whispers in Common:

"Should you have a large meal? You have had many drinks. You may become sick."

Ultimately he lets Faileas have his way, and turns to survey the crowd. As the bartender finds him, he speaks in a low, forced voice: "Water."

Still alert, he picks out one word from the crowd: Desert.

He leans again, whispers:

"There is talk of a desert. We should discover the purpose. It may be nothing. I should listen."

 

[Timothy]

The gnome is telling his tale know, and again you only manage to get flards, because You are being distracted.

...knocking on my door... ...talking about a sign... ...Another one...
...a whole company... ...Thanks to that greybearded ... ...We set off... ...Trolls... ...the last home... ...underground caves and lakes... ...Riddles in the Dark... ...Goblins... ...Elves and men... ...More dwarves, at the end, always more dwarves...
...I sneaked in... ...Opened an eye... ...Saw me... ...took the treasure and ran... ...A great Roar... ...Awakened... ...Destroyed the city... ...was killed by... ...A great battle... ...All sorts of creatures... ...Victory for the good... ...went back home... ...tha last house... ...home atlast, they were selling... ...Well, ends well, all's well... ...Safely home and a bit richer.

For the couple at the bar: One and a half meal, coming up, rooms are 8 SP, 2 GP or 4 GP. And some water for you.

 

[wings]

Desert eh?

"Are you suggestin a lad like myself can't hold down his liquor? Why, thats a challenge to me honour." Faileas acted indignant, but a crack of a smile shows his jest. His dark green eyes laughed.

Failes stops his scharade as the monk's attention is diverted to another table. He looks over there as well. "I could go investigate, talk to them, if you like." He knew the companion he found himself with prefered not to give out his voice, skin, or anything really, as though he had to earn it or something. He never really questioned it. He leaned an elbow against the table, and his head against his palm, his ear pointed towards the conversation "Something about his father, oui think. Or maybe his fathers armor, at that. Damn Gnome."

He nods in thanks of the meal, and digs around in his bag, He then sits down four shiny gold disks. He will be sleeping in comfort this night! His eyes brighten at the idea.

 

[Wippit Guud]

Adverturers bragging... but the halfling was secretive... Oh well, can't go policing the whole realm... Serith turns his attention back to the gentleman in front of him.

"Flashy armor? Not really, just practical armor. I don't really like metal armor, too heavy and cumbersome, but the right animal hide, treated... well, I won't bore you with details. You spoke of a desert? Can't say that I've ever been to one. I have a couple of companions who prefer the outdoors that may not like it, but given the right circumstances, I could see myself visiting that unique landscape."

Serith notes the arrival of two newcomers, wonder if he's sun-sentivive, that one... wrapped in cloth from head to toe. Poor soul...

 

[GWolf]

Grey nods to the druid. "Great, maybe well shall travel there together? Think about it." Actual someone I may be able to get along with

Grey gets up, chain mail in his arm and walks to the man who was watching him and the druid talk.

Looks like one of those Sailors, a bunch of stange losers if you ask me, who knows though.

"I see you show some interest in out conversation. My name is Grey, who are you?" Grey asks his sickening feelings hidden behind his polite manners.

 

[Wippit Guud]

With Grey talking to someone else, I'll return my full attention to the small people...

 

[Timothy]

Serith turns around again, the other gnome has take the word know, but immediatly notices paying attention.

"Hmmm, looks like we can't have any privacy here"

He whispers a bit too his friends (you cannot hear it) and the all stand up, take their chairs and sit down next to you.

"Ok, then, let's hear YOUR stories"

 

[Wippit Guud]

"My story is not worth telling, really a simple tale of a man who doesn't have any real goals in life. Actually quite sad. And being that I'm not a bard, whatever I would say would bore. You three, however, are better suited than I to telling tales, so I watch and listen. If that offends you, then by all means accept my aolpgies and I'll not bother you."

"Barkeep! A round at this table on me.... for your troubles, gentlement."

 

[wings]

Test me mettle will ya now?

(ooc- me and Me. 089 did a contested sense motive-bluff check, both rolled 13s, but my +6 mod beat out his +0)

Faileas watched the man walk up, a quick downward glance of the man's eyes, a glance that he has seen before. Another man wouldn't have noticed such a thing, but it gave faileas enough of an idea to see through his politeness.

He stands up, his frame is smaller, but that makes him no less intimidating. "If ya have something that ya need saying, best get on saying it."