Tavern - City of Orussus, The Red Dragon Inn '08

[Knight Otu]

Semabin listens to Conuld's report with obvious shock. "That... these news are troubling. I have heard rumors that efreet were seen in Sairundan, and were defeated, but this... It's tempting to think that efreet were responsible as well. Easy. Exploiting the existing tensions. But I realize it is too easy to just pretend that we will live up to our ideals.

Thank you for delivering these news, Conuld*, as grave as they may be. I feel like I should return home to Baras if the Zephyr haven't left it, but as you said, it's a long journey."

(*I'm assuming that Conuld would have introduced himself at some point here.)

 

[Trouvere]

"Efreet? Perhaps. But the people blame the orc tribes, and the city elders - I hope - suspect a secret society known as the Kaati Shut, whoever and whatever they are. As I said, though, we were only on the periphery of events."

 

[ajanders]

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).

Michael grits his teeth and looks away.
A new stone comes out of his belt pouch, black with swirls of white.
He begins to polish between his hands, paying careful attention to smoothing it into a precise sphere.

I hope one comprehend languages is enough...

 

[Scott DeWar]

OOC:
[SBLOCK=AJANDERS] I sure am glad you didn't waste that comprehend lang. spell on pendrake![/sblock]

 

[Knight Otu]

"Kaati Shut? I don't think I've heard of them. Again, Conuld, thank you for these news. May the wisdom of the Djinn guide you on your paths."
With a slight whisper, Semabin adds, more to himself "And may the Winds not clash." He then goes to the bar and asks Joe for a Sairundani Stormbrew.

 

[orsal]

Sir Nurlan

Sir Nurlan, who has been uncharacteristically quiet as of late (OOC: on account of his player's real-life occupation) looks up as Persephone enters. A little surprised to hear her introduce herself by her full name, he walks up to the bar, bows and addresses her. "My lady, it must have been years since we last met in this very bar. What a pleasure to see you here again. The last time, it was in the midst of the goblin troubles in Monemvassia, I recall discussing that land's plight with you. May I join you?"

 

[Manzanita]

Percy is feeling melancholy. She does miss her friend Fondar. And Ishmael from before that. And now where had Nars gone? Unless things turn around, she was going to end up just hanging around with that creepy monk, Rodimus. She knew her father was dead & still no word from her brother. She was feeling lonely.

She sat for a while, leaning back on the bar & watching the crowd. Despite her many visits to this place, none of her old friends seemed to be around.

She can't remember Nurlan's name, but his face comes right back. "Of course I remember you! Nice cloak!" She flashes a white smile. "You were with some other adventurers, off to find a goblin fortification. I guess you survived. How's things in Monemvassia? I'm from there, you know? I didn't used to like to say so, because I was in a bit of trouble. But now...just let them try to marry me off." She flexes her fingers, which glow dangerously.

 

[SlagMortar]

A stout dwarf with dark black hair a thin (for a dwarf) beard pushes open the door to the inn. He self consciously plucks from the air a stone orbiting his head and places it in his pocket.

"I'm, er, Nars Blackbeard. Lock smith.". With a grin he continues, "If think you can, ah, find a better one, er, let me know.". He blushes a bit at his new found bravado.

In spite his slight lack of confidence, his stride reveals a certain deadly grace as he crosses the floor to grab a beer from the bar.

"Percy! I, er, sent a courier to, ah, tell the Torbith clan that some certain, er, gnomes may be needing some help, ah, rebuilding." With a small frown, he adds, "I had, er, hoped Sir Ishmael might be back.

The dwarf seems oblivious to the strange sight his rumpled appearance makes next to the resplendent Persephone.

 

[ajanders]

OOC:
[SBLOCK=AJANDERS] I sure am glad you didn't waste that comprehend lang. spell on pendrake![/sblock]

[sblock=DeWar]
Comprehend Woman is an epic ritual. Comprehend Languages is Michael spitting in the wind.[/sblock]

 

[ajanders]

A stout dwarf with dark black hair a thin (for a dwarf) beard pushes open the door to the inn. He self consciously plucks from the air a stone orbiting his head and places it in his pocket.

Michael eyes the floating stone for a moment, then looks at the one between his palms reproachfully.
How come you never do that?

After a moment, he goes back to polishing, stealing occasional glances at the dwarf when the woman isn't looking.