[Tavern] Tower's Shard 2010

Status
Not open for further replies.
"Thalen?" Her eyebrow raises with obvious recognition. She quickly recovers herself and puts on a more composed expression. What's she doing here? Did her family finally kick her out? Not likely. Too much potential. Too many unanswered questions. Unless. . . they finally got those questions answered. She went about her business still in thought.

"Oh yes terrible battle. Pleasure to meet you Talkrai. But you know, Krathak En Morthon, name pending copy write and finalization, is made of tough stuff. Powerful heroes. Available for a modest fee. Please excuse me."

She marches toward Rohna, wheels spinning. If the unanswered questions have been answered why is she here? She must not be as powerful as they had hoped. Or else she is, and has become more solid, and sent here to spy on me! Who else as a better spy for my father. She suddenly shoots a glare over her soldier before bending down to speak with Rohna.

"We need a team meeting." She looks around and realizes they were still missing people. "Where is the team?!?"
 

log in or register to remove this ad

Thalen stares quizzacally at the departing half-elf, her left eye-brow raised.

"An odd one that one." she comments to nobody in particular.
 

"Oh you know Roswyn and Tondrek, they can kill time like there was a bounty on its head." Rohna's eye wanders over the crowd while the sorceress sits down, picking out adventurers from common gawkers. She pauses at the table with another goliath hammer wielder and a preist of some sort, but continues before they notice. "So was that the name of a cousin I caught over there by ole scaly britches? Invite em over for a drink while we wait for the 2 slowest shoppers in the city."
 

Shava straightens for a moment to address the bar. "Rum please." Then quickly sits down and lowers her voice. "No way. She's definantly a spy sent by my father. . . . Well she might be a spy sent by my father. . . Well I don't know, but I think we should discuss the possibilities."
 

Talkrai took a moment to wonder at the emphasis the taller half-elf placed on her surname. This was the third person with that name Talkrai had met since entering the tavern, but the first to give it such emphasis. She was sure it must mean something, but she wasn't certain what.

"I apologize if I interrupted some sort of family discussion,"
she said humbly. "It seemed you were discussing the dragon, which I thought must not be a private affair, but I beg your pardon if I was mistaken."

She hoped that was an appropriate thing to say. This whole setting out on her own thing was already becoming a bit overwhelming.
 

While everyone is gathered around the dragon, the door to the tavern opens again. This time, its a halfork. Or, it might be, as it is hard to tell under the sheer mass of stuff that halfork seems to be carrying—vials, tinctures, spindly things, ruby-lensed goggles, and other such tools of artifice. His clothes are rumpled, and smell of an old sewer, his hair is greasy, and he has oversized guantlets over his hands.

And his talking to himself.

The halfork mutters incessantly to himself, unconsciously staying away from the crowd. This is helped by the very finely made iron defender that follows and wards him, nipping at any that come too close. As for the halfork, he seems to be looking repeatedly at a piece of crumpled paper and going on and on about arcane miscellany.

When Brews clears his through, the halfork looks up and blink. Recognizing the warforged, he smiles and says. Hi Brews! Its Tondrek! Remember? We killed a dragon and kobaloads and undead kobaloads and dirty guards that weren't guards. And there was cool magic stuff I'm not supposed to talk about. I'll tell you later! The halfork galumps to a nearby table, where he carefully folks the crumpled paper into a pocket in his filthy coat and beings gathering utensils for some purpose.
 

As Brews makes the rounds Rohna touches his elbow. "Do you think there's any way to make him take a bath before we bring him over here? Maybe when Roswyn gets here, we get her to cast a pesti...presto...that cleaning spell on Tondrek?"

She leans over and whispers into the molten dog's ear. It gets up and weaves its way through the crowd, over to the iron defender at the Half-Ork's side. She sits nose to nose with her steely counterpart a moment and then let her magma dripping tongue hang out the side of her stony mouth. The lava that drips off her form zanishes as soon as its no longer connect in some way to her. She wears an onyx collar that has ruby red crystal spikes sticking out all the way around with a tag that says Rohna's Gretta on one side and "El Pero Caliente" on the other.
 

Talkrai took a moment to wonder at the emphasis the taller half-elf placed on her surname. This was the third person with that name Talkrai had met since entering the tavern, but the first to give it such emphasis. She was sure it must mean something, but she wasn't certain what.

"I apologize if I interrupted some sort of family discussion,"
she said humbly. "It seemed you were discussing the dragon, which I thought must not be a private affair, but I beg your pardon if I was mistaken."

She hoped that was an appropriate thing to say. This whole setting out on her own thing was already becoming a bit overwhelming.

Thalen looks down after the kalashtar's words interrupted her thoughts. "Uh, what? Oh, sorry, no. I feel that I know her from somewhere... but I can't quite put my finger on it. She is of House Lyrandar, like myself, but we are large and a lot of us seem to wander off on our own to find our place in the world. Wonder if she's from Stormhome?" Thalen wonders aloud, her voice growing more distant and distracted as she speaks.

"Oh, sorry, I did it again. Talkrai, what brings you here? Well besides getting out of this damnable rain. I don't understand how you can put up with it all the time." the half-elf asks, her eyes dancing over the greatsword that Talkrai carries.
 

"Well, I guess the best way to put it would be that I'm trying to find my path. I'm not looking for adventure, per se; but in The Wood I was feeling like what I was doing wasn't enough, like there was something more I was needed for. Damon seemed to agree, so I set out to find it. I only just got here really and was just starting to make conversation when this impressive trophy came in the door."

She stopped there, realizing that she could be considered to be rambling.
 

"Seems this place is full of newcomers, you, me, the other Lyrandar, the walking trash pile (points to Tondrek)..." Thalen comments
 

Status
Not open for further replies.

Pets & Sidekicks

Remove ads

Top