Tavern Thread: The Hanged Man

[L4W Facilitator]

The Hanged Man Inn is notorious for attracting adventurers from all over the world, and many a tale told starts with an anxious employer entering the rowdy common room of that establishment. The best known inn in town it has not one but two "authentic Old Vic skins" decorating its walls.

The Hanged Man Inn contains a portal to the Drowned Man, a tavern on Bacarte. It functions much the same way save that the Hanged Man charges significantly more for the three drinks required to get through the portal reliably.

It is common practice for those that visit the Hanged Man to introduce themselves, even if it is not their true name. The bouncers like to know the name of who they may have to rough up later.

OOC: This is the new tavern thread. Feel free to interact here while not on adventure.

 

[Atanatotatos]

An exceptionally tall and big man sits alone at a table, sipping slowly wine from a cheap cup. He leans under the weight of an old scale mail and hanging on his chair are a sword and a shield crossed by several claws marks.
As he strokes his beard, he sighs with an air between exhausted and concentrated, and writes something on a small booklet.

 

[Phoenix8008]

The door of the Hanged Man Inn opens again, and a tall figure steps into the main hall. Mustard yellow hands with dark brown spots on them rise up and throw back the hood of this travelers cloak. Revealed is the face of a Githyanki woman of about 20 years. Her dark read hair flows in braids over her shoulders and around her long and pointed ears. Her dark eyes sweep the room, evaluating everything and everyone in a single long glance. She also notices the sign asking visitors to introduce themselves aloud upon entering the place. She is tired of walking and doesn't want to be kicked out for not obeying the rules, so she acquiesces this time. "I am Kama'zer Anma'giduu for anyone who needs to know."

She takes a seat at a table near the far wall, with a clear view of the entire room. She orders a drink and some hot food to eat. Removing her cloak, she hangs it over the back of her chair along with her shield. She drops her backpack at her feet. Her hide armor looks well maintained as well. The scimitar hanging at her side seems to be similarly well taken care of. She begins eating and drinking, but her eyes constantly roam around the room taking in everything.

 

[Halford]

The portal surges and from it sways a Minotaur whose fur is a mottled mixture of grey and black save for a line of red fur which follows his spine to the nape of his neck. All told the creature must be well over seven feet in height, without accounting for his horns. He is dressed in gleaming chainmail and there is a massive bastard sword at his waist.

The bull blinks slowly and glances around nodding to the occupants of the Hanged Man. His eyes flicker to the sign above the bar and he lets out a small sigh.

"Alright everbody? I'm Brudd Brassback, hic, Cleric of Hadeys, 'n such, not that you'd know it," the minotuar grasps a holy symbol in one massive fist and shakes it up at the ceiling admonishingly, "for all the good it does me! Divinely favored my arse! Looking for, hic, profitable work, hic. Nice to meet all of you."

With the formalities taken care over Brudd moves over to the bar and orders up some stew.

 

[stonegod]

The door to the tavern clatters open then closed. A figure wrapped in fine clothes of red and purple, his or her head hidden walks into the dim tavern light. His/her hands move to adjust the cloak and in the light, it is clear that they are not-human: Instead, three digits of metal connected with fibrous bundles—a warforged. As the hood is pulled closer, it seems vivid flames run along the 'forged's "musculature" before fading.

Seeing the sign, the warforged says simply, I am called 'Incarnation'. Noting the others, the warforged walked purposefully to the hand drawn map in the glass case on the wall.

 

[garyh]

The door to the Hanged Man swings open once more, and a tall, well-muscled figure steps into the tavern. Dressed in rough clothes that would fit in on the dockside or aboard ship, the creature is revealed by the light of the hearth to be a bugbear. An improbably large rapier strapped to his back, the bugbear surveys the crowd, taking each patron's measure. His eyes linger on the minotaur waving the holy symbol of Hadeys.

"The name's Hrav Kogata," the bugbear states loudly. "If anyone's looking for some hired muscle, I'm your gob."

Stalking over and sitting at the bar next to the minotaur, Hrav says "You look familiar. Have I threatened you before? I used to work odd jobs for the Merchants and other powers that be on Bacarte. You ever owe anyone money? Move in on someone's turf? That sort of thing."

 

[Erekose13]

In what appears to be a constant work out for the door hinges they swing open once again. Where as before those who entered were largely exotic, the cause for the hinges pain is rather normal this time however. Into the Hanged Man ushers a simple man, human by all accounts, "Greetings all, I am Callen Stewart of Daunton, scholar and traveler."

 

[Halford]

Brudd eyes up the Bugbear in turn and makes a exhalation, which might, or might not have been intended as a greeting.

"Owed money, ha. I've worked with the Merchants for years, then with Mardan Kraith - the loan shark. Used to do some freelance loan sharkin' before the Hob' caught on, paid for that with my trick rib then I worked for Mardan for a while, not being dead has always been a temptin' sign on bonus. We prob'ly saw each other around. Oh, and me dad runs the Drowned Man, suppose there's a fam'ly resemblence."

Brudd close one eye and pantomines an angry face, and does manage to look vaguely like Faun the proprieter of the Drowned Man. The Minotaur nods approvingly towards Hrav's rapier,

"Nice blade, lighter than I like, but a cut above these toothpicks the smaller folks use. As it happens I'm looking fer work to, course if I was a cleric of anyone but bleedin' Hadeys I could 'ave probly landed a cushy gig in a temple, but no. Not for Brudd, most clerics say their gods smile down on them, mine's doing something down on me, but I ain't sure its smilin'."

He sighs,

"Anyway you look like you can 'andle yerself, hows about we strike a deal? You hear about any work ye let me know and I'll do the same. What do you say? At the worst you'll get to see Hadeys pers'nl punching bag in action, at best, well, I can heal and such, I'm not totally abandoned by me god."

Brudd glares accusingly at the ceiling.

 

[Atanatotatos]

Finally, exhaustion won by the sheer oddness of the quickly incoming hosts, the man in scale mail sitting on his own stands and, somewhat clumsily and slightly blushingly, introduces himself in a booming voice:
Pardon my rudeness sirs, My name is Alexander Duran, from Bacarte. Sword and shield for hire.
Someway, despite his near two meters and over 100 kgs of weight, a full beard and a complexion more similar to that of a young giant than a human's, the man looks really much younger.

 

[Halford]

"Hey, another soul from our rat riddled port." Brudd snorts,

"Alright Alexander, gah, thats long you mind Alex? I'm Brudd Brassback spiritual victim of Hadeys, ye lookin' fer work to?"