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[Tavern Thread] The Dunn Wright Inn

Aura

Explorer
Grog the Bartender
Leaning in and listening to Wilmorn's question intently, Grog nods in agreement, "Ya, I think so. He be looking', you be looking," he points out into the bar, identifying other patrons, "Her… and him… dey be comin' outta da woodwork now, I say!" He pats the ranger on the shoulder, "I get ya dat drink." With that, he turns to refill the mug and by the time he comes back, much has happened. Seeing the latest addition to the Inn's clientele, he drops the drink off with him and moves on to service her request.

"Whiskey?" he questions the bespeckled tiefling. "Rotgut if I ere did say, but no worse dan lotta others. Be rite dere." The newcomer's drink comes out of a bottle rather than a barrel; amber liquid flowing into a small glass. Carefully walking it out to her, his big, meaty hands gingerly serve up the small glass.
 

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Anastrace

First Post
Erin Vaneese

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Erin accepts the small glass from Grog, and downs it immediately. "Ha, Rotgut is right. Keep 'em coming though. It's been a long trip." Her tail curls around the stool she is sitting on, the brass rings clattering gently against the wood.
 

grtrtle

First Post
Wilmorn, human male

Wilmorn thanks the hosting half-orc for the mug, and manages just enough courage to follow him toward the tiefling. "Er, ahem, I can't help but overhear that you're looking for work as well. Um...mind if I join you for a bit while we wait?" He takes a look over to the quiet man, but the aura of danger about him quickly turns Wilmorn's attention away and back toward the tiefling.
 

FrancisJohn

First Post
[sblock=OOC]This would be a pretty fun/badass crew: warrior slave dude, plucky ranger guy, demon girl magus, and the mysterious shaman if she comes through.[/sblock]
 

FrancisJohn

First Post
Siddhartha's focus returns to his cup of water. They take water for granted here. Water is a privilege. He takes a refreshing swig, and his mood lightens for a moment.
 

Anastrace

First Post
Erin Vaneese

Turning slightly to her side, whiskey in hand Erin adjusts her spectacles in slight surprise. "Hmm, I'm surprised you'd want to speak to me. Most people don't trust tieflings. I'm Erin, Erin Vaneese a spellblade for hire. And you are?"
 

grtrtle

First Post
Wilmorn, human male

The poor young ranger cringes involuntarily at the voice. Taking a moment to compose himself, Wilmorn makes a mental note to find out more about tieflings from Master Martin when they meet up again. "Name's Wilmorn, ser." Realizing the polite address may not be appropriate here, but at a loss for an appropriate alternative, Wilmorn fumbles on bravely with the introduction. "That is, Wilmorn of Oakhaven. I've been brought up as a guide. Mostly for travelers between towns, but we've taken some odd jobs in between too. I'm trying my luck here for a bit of work myself."

"So, what does a spellblade do, exactly?" Wilmorn puts his best smile forward. "I mean, what type of work are you hoping to find here?" Before the tiefling can respond, Wilmorn jumps out of his chair. "Ah, excuse me a moment." He hurriedly heads back to his old seat, grabs his gear and brings it over closer to his new spot before reseating himself. "Sorry about that."
 

Anastrace

First Post
Erin Vaneese

Erin smiles pleasantly at Wilmorn during his introduction, revealing white teeth with short fangs. Despite her best effort at looking friendly, she still manages to look off putting. "Well Wilmorn, glad to meet you." She smoothed her worn robe, and patted the sword hanging on her hip. "I specialize in sneaking up on people, and combining magic and bladework. Of course I do enjoy using my magic for more practical purposes occasionally."

With that, she raised her right hand from where her claws had dug a little furrow into the bar and chanted for a second. "Like that, cold drinks anytime. Practical uses when you cook a lot" she laughed. "I'm looking to do anything at all. I've lived as a slave my entire life. Time to earn myself a fortune so I'm independent forever. What about you?"
 

Aura

Explorer
Charity, Human Female
The sleeve of her red-trimmed tunic, embroidered with religious symbology, slides across the table as she places a drink in front of Erin and Wilmorn, one small glass and one large mug, respectively. "Grog was going to bring these, I offered to help," the woman explains, with hair matching the trim of her tunic. Lowering her voice and tilting her head for the benefit of Wilmorn, she adds, "Grog said take it easy this time." With that, she gives a wink to the outdoorsman. After the short mirth, she suddenly explains, "Oh, and I am Charity, pleased to meet both of you, of course."
 

FrancisJohn

First Post
Siddhartha the Hunter

Siddhartha continues to lurk in a chair by himself, but that doesn't stop him from indirectly listening to Erin and Wilmorn. His jaw tightens when the tiefling mentions the word slave. No use being friendly, I won't know them long enough before one of us ends up dead.
 

perrinmiller

Adventurer
A woman walks in a bar...


It was not a joke. A slender, exotically garbed woman in red silk pantaloons visible beneath her sheer black cloak actually slipped inside the tavern through the front door. She had long black hair, but most of her face was covered with a red silk scarf or veil. Her almond shaped eyes were wary as she surveyed the patrons.

She had black slippers that made no sound, not that anyone could hear a giant's footfalls in the crowded tavern, as she weaved her way through towards the bar.

Her eyes had looked over several of the patrons, perhaps assessing their capabilities like she was checking out the competition or potential breeding stock.
 

grtrtle

First Post
Wilmorn, human male

Wilmorn flushes at the redhead's words. Noting her attire, he most carefully responds. "I'm Wilmorn, ser. Wilmorn of Oakhaven. Wait, did I introduce myself earlier?" Unsure of himself, he picks up the new mug to cover his discomfort. Heeding her words, he carefully takes a small sip of the ale. He follows with a larger gulp as the door swings open and a woman walks into the bar. Wilmorn notices her sharp eyes observing and studying him momentarily, and he chokes on the gulp.
 

Voda Vosa

First Post
Aszar Kzolp, Merfolk witch

merfolk.jpg It seemed the tavern was thriving with life. One exotic patron after another made their entrances, announced their names, or so should they, all among the music and the sound of mugs clinking, some smashing, the vivid chattering, and the sound of meet cooking on a grill in the back. So that is why mostly no one paid much attention to the creature that slipped into the establishment next. Dripping water, or some sort of watery mucilage, a merfolk slithered inside, leaving a damped trail behind him. He was cyan and green, with iridescent reflections on his scales. He had no hair, as most of his kin, but bony rays covered with membranous blue skin. He wears little clothing, mostly seashells and fish leather covering some parts of his muscular torso. His lower body was of course a undulating fish tail, with the fins down and pressed against the body, making it look more like a serpent. Suddenly, on of the shoulder pieces moves, it was a turtle. It gets slowly to the merfolk's ear and seems to be saying something. The merfolk nods, muttering something under his breath. He slithers slowly, and not without difficulties, towards the centre of the tavern
"Greetingss ssurface dwellerss..." he hisses, thin and short fang like teeth populate his mouth.
"My name iss Aszar Kzolp, I'm a ssage, in search for knowledge, and willing to lend my aid in matters more mundane in which my assistance might prove useful... for a price..."
Having said his piece, Aszar moves to an empty table and attempts to sit on the chairs, clearly not designed for his people. After a few moments of failed attempts, he simply coils his tail and sits on the floor. He places the turtle on the table, where the little animal roams around. His slithered eyes scan the tavern. They have an unusual glow about them...
 

FrancisJohn

First Post
Siddhartha

Siddhartha goes over all of the newcomers in the tavern since he arrived:

A demon,
a fish,
a woodsmen,
red hair,
red scarf,
orc.

Am I in one of the nine hells? Too many devils in one place. Siddhartha takes a hidden interest in the woman covered in red, as she has been the only one yet to be social. She is like me.
 

grtrtle

First Post
Wilmorn, human male

With the arrival of yet another dizzying display of diversity in this kingdom, something within Wilmorn snaps. The tiefling's question long forgotten, Wilmorn sits tensely and focuses on the drink at hand, muttering all the while to himself. "This is the city. This is not Oakhaven. This is the city. This is not Oakhaven. This is the city. This is not Oakhaven..."
 

Scott DeWar

Prof. Emeritus-Supernatural Events/Countermeasure
As Venza is a port city, so very many ships dock, people coming and people going, so little is probably notices as two archers and a robed man exit and make their own ways about the city. One in particular makes his way to the tavern of diverse peoples, The Dunn Wright Inn, He was of human stock with hair of the color of red flames and a walk of confidence. A piercing gaze looks about as he approaches the door and enters. His first gaze is to the fireplace, the second is Marla, closely followed by Grog.

"Heinrich Scribersen has returned from Bienenstock der Abschaum und Niedertracht, a hive of scum und villainy - and survived."

A smile and a friendly wave to the waitress and bar keep as he heads to a chair by the crackling fire is targeted but he is intercepted by Marla who starts off with a glare at him. She vocally chides him about something to do with NOT setting the tavern on fire which is answered by the human with a big innocent toothy smile.

" Ok ok frauline,I vill not start a fire im Kamin, nor summon das Feuer Volk inside die Taverne. Ja?" All the while he is speaking the fire in the fire pit seems to animate on it own and mock every one of Marla's physical actions, but if she looks toward it, it returns to being a normal fire, with eyes. Or so it seems.

She turns with a loud huff as he places an order for amber ale and the daily special. A short bit later she brings the drink and food to the robed human. As she walks away he mumble something about fireballs still can be cast that solicits a very dark nasty look from the tiefling bar maid. He cowers with a playful grin.

[sblock=translation] I vill not start a fire im Kamin, nor summon das Feuer Volk inside die Taverne. Ja?
translates to
"I will not start a fire in the fire place, summon the fire people inside the tavern, Yes?"
grammatical German correction by Lindeloef[/sblock]
 
Last edited:

Anastrace

First Post
Erin Vaneese

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"Thank you Charity. Living up to that name, eh?" Erin laughs quietly. She then surveys the room as all the new occupants enter, a diverse set of people from the woman in the mask, to the merperson. Life outside the tower certainly is different she thought to herself.
 

GlassEye

First Post
Kepli Stormborn, shaman

[section]
The dockside door opens a crack and a short woman squeezes through. She waves her hands in the air in the crack.

"Go on! Shoo! You can't come in here!"

She closes the door on what sounds like the shriek of an angry flock of seagulls. The young woman lets her breath out in a rush and turns to face the crowded common room of the Dunn Wright Inn. She is short and thin and her skin is a rich brown made darker by exposure to the sun. Loose curls are piled atop her head, ostensibly to keep them off her neck and therefore keep her cooler. Full lips and natural beauty draw the eye though those with keen perceptions can see the coarseness of her hands replete with numerous small scars and her wind-chapped cheeks. These only serve to enhance the aura of vitality about her. But the most noticeable thing about her are eyes the blue of a clear summer day.

The young woman smiles to the room at large and adjusts a fallen curl. She discovers a white pinfeather in her hair and tucks it behind her ear as if it belongs there. She leans forward under the weight of a pack as she crosses the room to the bar and an open stool. At the foot of her stool the woman drops her pack which makes a clatter like a kitchen's worth of pots and pans were stuffed within it.

"I would like a beer, please."

[/section]
 

FrancisJohn

First Post
Siddhartha feels the hair on the back of his neck rise as the latest arrival makes her way into the common room. He instinctively turns and stares, taking in her unassuming natural beauty. He says nothing, but secretly admires her dark skin, as it matches his own.
 

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