Weel Naxel, human cleric
Weel raises his own mug of modest ale. "Now that's a toast I can get behind," he says.
Weel raises his own mug of modest ale. "Now that's a toast I can get behind," he says.
Tavern - City of Orussus, The Red Dragon Inn '08
- Thread starter Bront
- Start date
Weel Naxel, human cleric
Weel opens his mouth to ask something, then--perhaps it's something in the man's gaze, or some prescience from his otherworldly Patroness--the cleric chooses to instead raise his mug again.
"Here's to living to tell the tale," he ventures.
Weel opens his mouth to ask something, then--perhaps it's something in the man's gaze, or some prescience from his otherworldly Patroness--the cleric chooses to instead raise his mug again.
"Here's to living to tell the tale," he ventures.
Karm raises an eyebrow at the back of the heavily scarred stranger as he returns to his chair. What an odd thing to say... Karm pauses, still, he is right. Once I saw a young faun searching a frozen lake for food in the dead of winter... Ice cracked beneath her. I thought about helping her but sure enough, she swam through the ice and found her footing... Will wonders never cease?
ajanders
Explorer
"Also a good idea, particularly when learning to swim."
Michael grins over his cocoa, looking remarkably like Kuma.
covaithe
Explorer
Volidar comes over to the table where Weel and Karm sit conversing.
"Well, gentlemen, it seems that if there is to be any aid to the party I spoke of before, it must come from your hands. Are you ready to depart? I can offer you little guidance as to what you will find when you arrive, but I can offer you quick passage. But we must go soon."
[sblock=Weel and Karm]ooc: Weel, this is me getting you into Bazaar. Karm, we talked earlier; you know what's going on. If you're no longer interested, now's your chance to back out. If you are interested, make whatever in-character preparations you need, and we'll assume that the following takes place after you return and tell Volidar you're ready.
Volidar leads you away from the inn, and with long strides, guides you into the woods northeast of Daunton. He occasionally follows small game trails, but much of the time is spent moving directly through the trackless woods. Every so often, he stops, mutters a snatch of odd-sounding poetry to himself in a language you cannot recognize, and then proceeds on a slightly different course, with no obvious reason to prefer the one direction over the other. Even the most experienced woodsman would have difficulty retracing his route.
After several hours of this, he ducks into a thicket of trees, and there, in a small clearing, stands a tall menhir, a standing stone carved with intricate designs, interlocking circles and dizzyingly contorted stylized beasts, so entwined that without long study it is impossible to see where one begins and the other ends.
"Take my arm, both of you. Do not let go," Volidar says, holding out his left arm. Once you have firmly grasped it, he begins chanting. It is an oddly tuneless, buzzing sound, with a simple, relentless rhythm and harsh overtones, that seems to echo and layer upon itself in the dense air of the clearing. With his right hand, Volidar touches the stone several times, and it seems as if an unseen chorus joins in his chant, matching his voice some two octaves lower. He begins an excruciatingly slow crescendo, at the peak of which he slaps the stone sharply and stops chanting. The echoes linger, gathering, strengthening, until the air itself begins to blur, and the stone wavers before you. Your vision narrows, and spots dance before your eyes, shimmering.
Then, suddenly, it is over. You look around....
ooc: Weel, go here. Karm, go here.
[/sblock]
"Well, gentlemen, it seems that if there is to be any aid to the party I spoke of before, it must come from your hands. Are you ready to depart? I can offer you little guidance as to what you will find when you arrive, but I can offer you quick passage. But we must go soon."
[sblock=Weel and Karm]ooc: Weel, this is me getting you into Bazaar. Karm, we talked earlier; you know what's going on. If you're no longer interested, now's your chance to back out. If you are interested, make whatever in-character preparations you need, and we'll assume that the following takes place after you return and tell Volidar you're ready.
Volidar leads you away from the inn, and with long strides, guides you into the woods northeast of Daunton. He occasionally follows small game trails, but much of the time is spent moving directly through the trackless woods. Every so often, he stops, mutters a snatch of odd-sounding poetry to himself in a language you cannot recognize, and then proceeds on a slightly different course, with no obvious reason to prefer the one direction over the other. Even the most experienced woodsman would have difficulty retracing his route.
After several hours of this, he ducks into a thicket of trees, and there, in a small clearing, stands a tall menhir, a standing stone carved with intricate designs, interlocking circles and dizzyingly contorted stylized beasts, so entwined that without long study it is impossible to see where one begins and the other ends.
"Take my arm, both of you. Do not let go," Volidar says, holding out his left arm. Once you have firmly grasped it, he begins chanting. It is an oddly tuneless, buzzing sound, with a simple, relentless rhythm and harsh overtones, that seems to echo and layer upon itself in the dense air of the clearing. With his right hand, Volidar touches the stone several times, and it seems as if an unseen chorus joins in his chant, matching his voice some two octaves lower. He begins an excruciatingly slow crescendo, at the peak of which he slaps the stone sharply and stops chanting. The echoes linger, gathering, strengthening, until the air itself begins to blur, and the stone wavers before you. Your vision narrows, and spots dance before your eyes, shimmering.
Then, suddenly, it is over. You look around....
ooc: Weel, go here. Karm, go here.
[/sblock]
Weel Naxel, human cleric
Weel is clearly overjoyed at the prospect of adventure. "Indeed. Let's get moving, yes? No time like our presents ... or something like that."
With a quick nod to Joe, Weel follows Karm and Volidar out of the Inn...
Weel is clearly overjoyed at the prospect of adventure. "Indeed. Let's get moving, yes? No time like our presents ... or something like that."
With a quick nod to Joe, Weel follows Karm and Volidar out of the Inn...
Manzanita
First Post
The doors swing open and another adventurer enters the tavern. She wears a gray cloak, rapier, and an owl on her shoulder, but these details come later. It is her face and her walk that attract attention. Indeed, most have never seen anything quite like her. She's beautiful yes, but it's more than that. Her presence can't be ignored (Charisma 23).
"Hi Joe!" she waves at the barkeep. "Esmerelda Persephone Jara back again! Nars and Rodimus will be in shortly, I think. And Ridik too. Gorefoot has chosen to stay with his people. We did manage to free Gemhold, Joe. Quite a battle. Treants, goblins, lots of fey, cute fairies, well. It's good to be back. Have you got some of that pink bubbly stuff? There's a pal."
She saunters over to the bar and takes a stool.
"Hi Joe!" she waves at the barkeep. "Esmerelda Persephone Jara back again! Nars and Rodimus will be in shortly, I think. And Ridik too. Gorefoot has chosen to stay with his people. We did manage to free Gemhold, Joe. Quite a battle. Treants, goblins, lots of fey, cute fairies, well. It's good to be back. Have you got some of that pink bubbly stuff? There's a pal."
She saunters over to the bar and takes a stool.
Eanos, human monk
A lean-muscled, woodsy sort enters, though the exotic weapons he carries suggest he's not a woodsman at all. He has a quiet exchange with Joe, a subtle smile coming to him.
"Good. The youth found what he sought, then," the man says, then turns to the Inn.
"I've only been gone a short while, but rules are rules: Eanos, truthseeker and student of the powers of the body."
He then takes his drink and finds a quiet table in the corner from which he can observe the room.
A lean-muscled, woodsy sort enters, though the exotic weapons he carries suggest he's not a woodsman at all. He has a quiet exchange with Joe, a subtle smile coming to him.
"Good. The youth found what he sought, then," the man says, then turns to the Inn.
"I've only been gone a short while, but rules are rules: Eanos, truthseeker and student of the powers of the body."
He then takes his drink and finds a quiet table in the corner from which he can observe the room.
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