[Tavern] Tower's Shard 2010

[evilbob]

Watching the impressive display from the young woman in the fancy hat, Gark smiles a wicked grin, holds out his hand in a similar fashion and exclaims, "Drink!" - at which point he places his mug into his hand and then takes a sip, with a sly look toward Vex.

[sblock=ooc]I couldn't resist! [/sblock]

 

[Vertexx69]

The Wilden turns to look at the newcomer casually, ignoring yet another savage response from the girl in the large hat. He steps away from the seething woman and right up to the cause of her outrage. Karananak gazes unblinkingly into the face of the Orc with the big axe for a long moment. Eve squeaks something at her companion and hangs off his arm in a bored fashion. "I an I be likin yur teet. Day bein vury pawnty an yelluh den. Ow did yuh managin to grow em so long den?" The impossibly thing tree man pushes a chair out slowly from the table beside them with a clawed foot, and offers it to the warrior with an easy smile. "I tink yuh shud be avin a seat ere wit me den, an we can be gettin dis fella ere own a dees fine cupa wata den." And sits in a chair across the table from the offered one. Brews sweeps by the table and drops off two full tankards without so much as an upward glance. He had obviously deciphered Karananak's thick accent with no further trouble. He raises his new tankard as Gark summons his own and takes a long drink.

[sblock=OOC translation]I like your teeth. They're very pointy and yellow. How did you manage to grow them so long then?

I think you should sit with me here and have a drink.[/sblock]

 

[hornedturtle]

354b, looking confused, holds out his hand for a moment. After thinking for a moment he says, "Answers." When nothing happens he turns to the hat lady ans asks, "How did that sword appear?"

 

[nerdytenor]

Acre can't help but laugh at the interchange.

"How did that sword appear?"

Acre smiles widely. "Ah, my mechanical friend," he says, patting the machine on the back. "Life is so much more interesting with a few mysteries in it, wouldn't you say?"

 

[pathfinderq1]

Vex continued to watch the orc carefully. While she did not so much as glance in the direction of the unusual warforged, apparently she did hear his question. "Well, it is magic," she answered, as if no more explanation would be needed.

 

[dimsdale]

The orc stares at the girl with the large sword. His eyes meets hers again. "Aaaaghhhh! Rumbum likes!" He nods his head with approval.

 

[pathfinderq1]

The orc stares at the girl with the large sword. His eyes meets hers again. "Aaaaghhhh! Rumbum likes!" He nods his head with approval.

Vex smiled a bit more broadly, but it was still the sort of smile that promised mayhem barely restrained- and there was a manic glitter in her eyes that had not been there a moment before. When she spoke, her voice was level and cool, but her words were the harsh tones of the Goblin tongue.

[sblock= Goblin] "I don't think you'd like it quite so much as you expect... d'Tharashk? Three Queens?" [/sblock]

As she finished speaking, she shifted her hand on the hilt of the greatsword- now it was poised for her to lift into a guard stance, waiting only for her other hand, as she waited on the orc's response...

 

[Antithetist]

There is a sudden draft through the inn, carrying with it a bittersweet smell like toasted spices as the door swings open once more - but nobody stands there. The doorway waits empty and open for a long moment before, finally, a tall figure appears silhouetted in the frame with a sharp click of his boot heels. He stands nearly seven feet tall, not counting the bony horns that curve up from his forehead. He is dressed in a tailored outfit of dark silk and white lace, and sports a carefully groomed goatee. He holds his pose in the doorway for a few seconds, propping himself on a gold-tipped cane as he scans the inn room with eyes like gleaming pearls set into his bronze face.

Finally he steps inside, greeting the assembled company with a deep, flourishing bow. "A good day to you all," he says in deep, velvet tones. "My name is Colgrave."

With a measured saunter he steps over to the bar, picking a spot right next to where the large orc is currently being menaced by a human girl, standing close enough to the two of them so as to practically insert himself into the altercation - although he doesn't acknowledge them whatsoever save for the general greeting he offered earlier.

"Hello, my good fellow," he addresses Brews. "I wonder, what would you recommend? I've heard marvellous things about your MacGuffin, but I fear I'm a dreadful conservative when it comes to drink. I like my mixed drinks dry. Not that I don't have a sweet tooth, you understand, but when it comes to liquor, I like something a bit more sophisticated - none of these syrupy concoctions that taste like drinking a whole pudding course at a gulp, you understand? In fact, never mind all that - tell me, how is your wine selection? Any Aundairan white from 997 would be fine. Or perhaps something Aerenal... hmm..."

Alarmingly enough, he appears entirely capable of keeping this monologue up all day with minimal feedback from Brews - though the Warforged bartender seems happy enough to have a customer taking real interest in his stock for once, and is gamely mixing up a MacGuffin to face Colgrave's critical taste test.

 

[dimsdale]

[sblock= Goblin] "I don't think you'd like it quite so much as you expect... d'Tharashk? Three Queens?" [/sblock]

The orc pauses before speaking again, bringing his large axe down with a thud, holding it tightly, but not in a threatening mannor.

[sblock=gobin]
Ahh...you and I spar sometime. Good practice. Maybe I teach you a think or two. HA HA.

As for her questions, Rumbum answer with a question of his own. How you know so much about my kind?
[/sblock]

 

[Vertexx69]

The seated tree man lets his head loll over the back of chair with a fully contented look resting across his woody face. "I an I be tellin de trute! Ya ceould bee cuttin dis ere tensian wi da knife ya ceould. Whyan ya deon jus be havin anoder drink den?" He raises his mug to the dandy that just sashayed up to the bar. Karananak rights his head to have a good long look, at yet another race new to him. The Wilden's unblinking, flat black eyes seem to stare deep into the soul of the wind walker.

He points to Colgrave with an impossible long branchy finger while nodding as if he has something to say. He goes to drain his tankard, but a slightly damp tiny red devil girl is all that comes tumbling out onto his face. She licks his nose and crawls down inside his the open front of his leather vest. "Eck! Wha twas I goin say? Ah Yuh shoold truly be tryin dis ere wata. It be avin jus de right amoun toh kick do it." He smiles at the horned fellow in a friendly way and then at Brews, slightly wagging the empty flagon in the bartender's direction. "An wha choo be doin wit yur life den, mista Colgrave? I an I bein called Karananak Bole, an I be like ta make de music."

The drunken Wilden takes the flute from his belt, without waiting for an answer and starts playing a haunting melody, like the twittering birds in a forest wound around a eerie harmony that echoes through the bones everyone in the Shard (if they have bones). The feathers and teeth that hang from the totem by thin cords sway in time with the beautiful song, and the leaves that make up Karananak's massive afro, as well as his eyes change color to a deep green. The spiney thorns on his arms and chin vanish, replaced by a soft moss forming into a goatee and thick arm hair.

[sblock=OOC translation]I am telling the truth! You could cut the tension in here with a knife you could. Why don't you just have another drink?

Eck! What was I going to say? Ah, You should try this beverage. It has just the right amount of kick to it.

And what is your profession mister Collgrave? I am called Karananak Bole, and I like to make music.[/sblock]