[Tavern Thread] The Dunn Wright Inn

[jkason]

"Don't actually know her," Eanos admits to Emily. "Never hurts to meet someone new though, yes?" he says with a wink. As Emily seems amenable, he leads her over to the sharp-tongued half-elf and her cask.

"Don't think we've met, but anyone has fun with the big guy like that deserves a handshake. That you know your halfling drink is even better."

He extends his hand to the halfling mead connoisseur, saying, "Eanos." He glances to Emily to introduce herself.

[sblock=ooc]Names can be secrets, so Eanos tends not to share others' without their permission. It's just a quirk of his. [/sblock]

As he does so, he notices the ... colorful new entrants: the wet human and the eccentric orderer. He nods if the man happens to look his way, but otherwise turns away from staring quickly, simply saying softly, "Always a new secret to unveil, yes, Lady?".

[sblock=ooc]I already had Eanos committed to moving another direction, but wanted to have him at least acknowledge some of the amusingly unique entry posts for Jericho and Qalabash [/sblock]

 

[OperationMaximumBear]

Em doesn't follow his reasoning, but moves to introduce herself: "I'm Emily."

 

[Triskaideka]

After what seems like forever, the tattooed half-Orcish youth rose from his table, snapping his book shut with a snap. His bestial eyes tracked the well dressed gentleman with an appraising gaze. Hopefully the man is a client in need of some mercenary work- Harkoz notes the whip under his coat and nods appreciatively. "Kor, come. This might be a job offer." The wizard's raven hopped eagerly to his master's bare shoulder, his own tiny, black eyes studying the elegantly dressed gentleman.

[sblock=OOC

OOC: Harkoz is ready for his first level adventure.

[/sblock]

 

[GlassEye]

The flamboyant man watches the fish flop onto the floor with detached interest then looks at the muscular, though damp, young man near him.

"Why, look what the fish dragged in! Har, har!" He sighs when no one else laughs. [color=366ff99]"Stand upon the threshold of a full hand of decades and your jokes are suddenly no longer funny? What irony is this? The gods give wisdom with years and then no one wants to listen? Pah! I am in need of drink to wash the bitter taste of disappointment from my lips."[/color]

He looks longingly at the drink in front of the man next to him.

"Are you going to drink that?"

His mind, however, is already slipping into another track and he surveys the room in time to catch a tall red-haired man (accompanied by a very young girl with an astounding amount of presence) nod a greeting. He flashes a horse-toothed smile at the pair while continuing his rambling, one-sided conversation with whomever happens to be nearby.

"Adven'Toora Spashyl. Rat, you say? An exotic species with hooves to scale the hills hereabouts? Or perhaps, white wings to flock about the ships and masquerade as creatures of an avian nature? Oh, I've had the normal sort many times: skewered and roasted, fried in a little sesame oil, fricasseed, even. I look forward to your exotic northern dish."

The man eyes the half-orc with the raven and, misunderstanding his intent, flashes yet another smile and clears a bit of space at the bar.

"Plenty of space here, young fellow! Perhaps, they could bring you some of this Adven'Toora Spashyl; you look like you could use a bite."


. . . Qalabash Baram . . .

 

[Commander_Fallout]

And he was back. A long, tiring journey which took only days but felt like months. Samad took a seat at the bar and waved to the bartender, "You wouldn't happen to have tea, would you? Or perhaps coffee? It has been long since I have had such."
He glanced around, but it was the other man at the bar who caught his eye. He tried striking up a conversation, "It is strange, I had not been expecting to meet another Southerner this day, yet have met three. I am guessing you're here for many the same reasons I am, no?"
[sblock=OOC]Another level three here, reporting for duty.[/sblock]

 

[Rift-LPF]

"I wouldn't exactly call it exotic, but I suppose it's much more plentiful in size and quantity here than elsewhere. If you're looking for something unique, a client suggested trying a drink here he said would put 'hair on the chest of any man or beast'. A bit overzealous and eccentric a fellow though, who knows how on the mark that opinion is." the young man replies, taking a draught of the cheap ale and swishing it around his mouth as he picks up the fish and tosses it into the waste bin with the kelp. He slides the rest of the mug down to the semi-centenarian with a dismissive wave. "How about a glass of the good stuff or some whiskey, maybe something more solid than stew to eat if you have it?" he asks Grog as he drops a few silver on the bar.

The clothes under his cloak were more or less dry, and he seemed to have trouble figuring where to put the damp cloak as empty bar stools seems to be quickly diminishing in supply.

 

[Triskaideka]

It took a moment for the half-orc to realize that Baram was talking to him. Blinking his black and yellow eyes in surprise at first, he regained his composure and shook his head gently. "Thank you, but I'm expecting some work at the moment. The offer is appreciated, however."

On the mage's shoulder the raven familiar moaned roughly, "No food? No food?" Harkoz gently pinched the bird's beak shut. "Shush now, Kor. We might be doing business soon."​

 

[GlassEye]

Qalabash Baram

Qalabash is delighted to find himself the recipient of three separate conversations and resolves to make it one big party. He shrugs at the tattooed half-orc with the raven.

"He has made no offers of employment, yet. And you can hear just as well here as over there. I promise, if any looks to be ahead of you I shall introduce them to the floorboards. Come, sit, and talk a while, yes?!" He looks to the other two seated near him for support. "These are my good friends whose names I have yet to learn."

He bows in preface to his introduction to the three and whomever else is listening.

"I am Qalabash Baram, last of the Rundaine-Rel. Raised by the Beggar King of Cor in the withered heart of Rhat'matanis, plucked from those dust-choked streets by Olag Rel, the Ogre Prince, I have wandered shore to shore of the Sea of Grass and learned the tongue of the thunder-hoof Kholani. I have a thousand and one tales and none are my own. But I hope to change that."

Qalabash grins his horsey grin at Samad.

"If that is why you are here, then, yes, I am indeed here for the same reasons. Now if you would grace me with a few lilting words of the tongue of our homeland, unmolested, unmarred, unmangled by northern lips then I would bless you forever."

Eying the murky brown liquid slid his way by the young man with the damp cloak Qalabash snatches up the liquor and tosses it back like a shot. His eyes go wide and he slams the mug down on the bar somewhat harder than intended. He coughs, then gasps for air. When he can finally breathe again he shakes his head.

"Orc piss, indeed. The taste is most foul. I do not recommend it. I feel it even now burning the words from my brain. Blech!"


. . . Qalabash Baram . . .

 

[Rift-LPF]

Jericho chuckles at the southerners reaction to the cheap brew. "Well, it can't be said that this bartender minces words when it comes to the menu at least. It has me hopeful for the 'good stuff' and wary of that one with the skulls in place of a name." The young man gives up and hangs his cloak off of his pack as he waits for his food. "You can call me Jericho, and while I have my fair share of personal stories I'm afraid my professional reputation is tied quite tightly to my discretion... though I don't suppose there is any rule against sharing tales from the road. So many of the ones fitting to such a bar are from the Pell though, somewhere you seem already acquainted with. Where else... where else..."he muses before breaking into a slight grin.
"ah yes. Sangre del sol- you will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. There was a half-orc in a tavern there named Sasha, a dancer. Beautiful for a place like that, not a scar or a scratch on her- believe me, I checked. She must have been a sorceress, or something; wore a bunch of flames like an outfit that changed color with the tempo of the bards off stage." the boy drums a changing beat on the bar as he talks. "The finale involved a few buckets of water passed about the front row, and some poses I'd have trouble believing a rope could be knotted into, let alone a person; a performance you're not likely to see around here I imagine."

Jericho talks with a large amount of motion in his hands, stealing glances at the gear of those involved in the conversation when his audience is drawn to them instead of his face. He pauses after his short tale and changes the topic. "I must admit as much as I could use an easy evening, the idea of work has me distracted as well. A lead didn't quite pan out... and this town isn't exactly the least competitive when it comes to... non-traditional work."

 

[perrinmiller]

Pirvinia von Lichenstein, Human Female

Pirvinia von Lichenstein enters the tavern, looking for something to do.

It was the first time she was venturing without having to look after her sister Livia and she was in the Dunn Wright Inn anticipating to find some patron that was willing to hire adventurers before she started being tight on funds. Her last 20 gold coins could be gone fairly quickly and then she would have to start pawning off her jewelry or her adventuring gear.

She is wearing a dark, sturdy outfit. The black woolen dress, with a slit up the side, has navy trim and a halter top. She has a matching short jacket with navy trim and three quarter sleeves. Her black leather boots have a sturdy 2 inch heel and go up mid-thigh as seen through the slit in the dress. She has silver and gold plated hooped earrings and silver charm bracelets on her left wrist.

Still, she has the look of an adventurer. The haversack on her back, the light crossbow hanging over her shoulder, and the special sash with several wands sheathed like a brace of daggers just inside her coat.

Pirvinia looks around curiously, taking in the plethora of varied people milling around near the bar.

OOC: Pirvinia is a 3rd level Sorceress, but she needs some approvals before she is officially allowed to join Grayn's Adventure.