Tavern Thread: The Hanged Man

"Y-Y-Yes, the sort of m-m-magic that comes from b-books, not from other s-s-sources," the shifter says, nodding towards the warforged.
The warforged regards the shifter a moment. The fire on his arms flares a moment, but all Incarnation says is a flat Indeed. He turns to the ones gathered. Things twist and glammer beneath our feet, murder boils from below, and a seed of madness is missing. If such is too strong for you leave now. Left unanswered is the question of payment.[sblock=OOC]Woot, a party of misanthropes. I'd say leave to the evening to make any final decisions, but I don't see any problem with one of the fighters and the wizard. Just got to figure who.[/sblock]
 

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Yes, yes murder boiling no doubt you cryptic bolt bucket. Now where am I to find your employer and more important, If I am to be employed, that suggests recompense is forthcoming.

[sblock=ooc] W00T on wizarding! [/sblock]
 


"I let the fates decide whether I live 'r die, h'elf. Why not if I git a job or not? Let da' machine flip. Heads (even)"

Dane
 

Lorik pulls out a piece of copper and flicks it into the air. He doesn't bother to catch the coin on the way back down, and it lands on the tavern floor. Lorik leans in and squints, then picks the coin back up and pockets it.

"Heads it is, then. Good luck to you, and may your death be swift and painless."
 

The warforged waits impassively as the decision is made. Fated it was. Dwarf, Human. Come. Doom awaits. With that, he leaves.[sblock=OOC]Please come over to the The Sibylline Idol and introduce yourself to the DM.[/sblock]
 

The door opens slowly and a strange-looking young woman enters. Her skin is gray, flecked through with veins of rosy quartz. Her eyes, set wide in an angular face, are cloudy purple. On her head is a.... growth of some kind, resembling hair, but denser, spongier, of a mottled green and gray color. The hilt of a perfectly ordinary longsword protrudes over her muscular shoulders, and a coat of something greenish and flexible, though tough-looking, covers her torso and legs. On her face is a very human expression of wonder and determination mixed with confusion and terror.

In a thickly accented, musical voice, she speaks. "Is this the location where congregate those who earn their bread by sword and spell? I am Ikniqpalagaq, of the Nunarquiamik genasi tribe. I seek... encouragement. No, wait, employment. That is the word, yes?"
 

A half-staggering man enters the tavern, and almost stumbles on the tall woman by the entrance. Though the man is clearly of muscular complexion, he seems to be extremely tired, showing signs of sleep deprivation and extreme stress.
Help...I seek help! I need... swords for hire! Mercenaries...strong people! the desperate man is at a loss for words when he sees the famed Hanged Man is almost empty...
With a pained look, the man heads to the bar, and leaning heavily on it, almost begs the bartender: Please... Please a glass of water...


[sblock=Adventure]Hi guys! So here I am to recruit people for a new adventure, Ring of the Fey Lord. 4-5 1st level characters. The adventure should last a whole level, approximately.
Please those interested state the character's name, race and class, and a link to your character's page would be nice too.[/sblock]
 

At the man’s entrance, Haruka looks up from the esoteric patterns she’s been searing into the table. After hearing his request, she approaches him and gives a shallow yet polite bow.

“Forgive me if I am being too forward, but I believe I can help you. While I am... lacking in both physical strength and expertise with weapons, I think you will find my skills to be useful nonetheless.”

[sblock=OOC]Haruka Sato, human warlock[/sblock]
 

"Is it considered impolite to offer one's services to those who have requested it?" wonders the genasi girl. "I, too, would prove myself in combat, but I do not wish to cause offense."

[sblock=info]Ikni, genasi swordmage 1[/sblock]
 

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