[Tavern] Tower's Shard '09

[renau1g]

The door swings open again and a cloaked dark elf walks into the room, his feet falling silently upon the floor, stepping from pad to heel in the traditional drow manner of movement. He carries a small blade and wears a wide-brimmed fashionable hat. Looking at the group he says "Greetings all, Tamarand at your service. I have heard rumours of the place where the drinks are free and the tales are tall, I'm glad to have finally found it." the drow says and walks up to the shifter.

"Greetings m'lady, it's only common courtesy to order the female the first drink. What are you having?" Tamarand asks

 

[Vertexx69]

Rohna drains her tankard and slides it towards the drow with a wickedly fanged grin. "Brews knows what I like, just say its for Rohna stranger." On closer inspection her exposed skin on her upper arms and legs is not golden but coevered in a short, fine fur like that of her hunting cat ancestors.

 

[renau1g]

Tamarand only nods and procures the requisite beverage from the barkeep.

He slides the drink to her before grabbing a seat near her and Cleaver. "I happened to hear your discussion about the benefits of metal armour and I must agree it does nothing but slow me down. Now leather, that's where its at. So what's everyone do for fun around here? Maybe we can toss some daggers?" the drow says, drawing a blade from his belt and flipping it casually end over end, before catching it with the tip of his index and middle fingers and repeating.

 

[ukingsken]

You fleshlings waste so much of your time courting one another. Better to prepare for the next conflict. Nature is struggle, and you must prepare.

Cleavers fast seems almost bemused as he looks back and forth from Tamarand and to Rohna, although it's hard to read any real emotion on his stiff face.

 

[Charwoman Gene]

In a gravelly voice, Silas intones, "Not all of us are as prey to the temptations of the flesh as others. But, you must forgive the shifter, it can't be easy to fit into moral behavior when the blood of demon's runs through your veins, however diluted it has become."
"That being said, heavy armor is for those without the speed and faith to survive without it's protection. The Flame will not fail me in battle, and I shun such protections as a test of my faith."

 

[renau1g]

In a gravelly voice, Silas intones, "Not all of us are as prey to the temptations of the flesh as others. But, you must forgive the shifter, it can't be easy to fit into moral behavior when the blood of demon's runs through your veins, however diluted it has become."
"That being said, heavy armor is for those without the speed and faith to survive without it's protection. The Flame will not fail me in battle, and I shun such protections as a test of my faith."

"Now I don't know much about demon's blood and all that, but I must disagree about the pleasures of the flesh. Without it we are nothing more than unfeeling constructs, surely one such as yourself good warforged understands that." Tamarand replies.

 

[ukingsken]

I bear the form nature felt fit to bestow upon me. I am an instrument of war, and when the fury of the wild is upon me ware the tempest it unleashes. While I may not sleep, eat, or even breathe as you do, never doubt that the lifeblood of Eberron flows in my veins. I did not come to lead during the war by failing in battle.

This is the first time Cleaver has exhibited any true emotion. As he speaks his limbs seem to cord and swell as small energy lines beneath the wooden plating flare to life momentarily.

 

[renau1g]

"So you were a veteran of the War? What flag did you fight under?" Tamarand asks, his interest growing

 

[EvolutionKB]

Another drow enters the tavern. He wears armor made from the shells of scorpions. A gnarled wooden staff is held in his hands. Tatoos cover his dark skin, white against his dark flesh. Swirling patterns reminicient of clouds and lightning they are, with a dragonmark on his forearm. As he walks to a table, his form shimmers like heat rising from the hots desert sands. His skin is weathered and his white hair is short. He Bringis a rolled cigar to his lips and exhaling the smoke, he says, "Quistorion, though you've probably heard my name mentioned by now. Just a water Brews."

 

[Vertexx69]

The catwoman violently tears a chunk out of her meat, sending a bit of fat or gristle flying across the room to land on Silas' shoulder with a satisfying splat. "I don't know much about demon blood, but I know I ain't got no horns. This town has demon folk and rock folk, metal folk and dragon folk, so why do the humans seem to have so much trouble with dog and cat folk?"