Troupe of the Painted Soul IC!

[dave_o]

Jasper smiles satisfactorily, groping before him and rolling the parchment. Gently, he drops it near him, upon the desk, and puts his hands behind his head, fingers slipping inside the tangled mess of hair.

"That is it, then, new friends. I doubt any of your number knows well this city of Jewel, so I offer Alric's services as guide. Christian," Jasper vaguely motions toward a set of shelves tucked farther back into the room, some of the volumes on them still wrapped for travelling, "there should be a script or two there, give them to whoever else wants a role, as well - there are only a few."

The second black consort, as yet unnamed, makes his way out of the room. Alric sighs a bit, arching a dark brow. His hair is long where the other's was short, and he is not an unattractive man - if a bit severe. "Indeed, I was born here, and know it well."

Jasper nods slowly, letting the lids fall over his milk white eyes. "And beyond that, you have free reign. Sleep where you will, but please, do try and stay out of trouble. Alric will inform you of rehersals, and other such things."

From the tone of his voice, these other such things spell trouble for the Empire.

 

[Sollir Furryfoot]

Carrie's gives a slight scowl at Drembrilion for a moment, "Sorry," she begins, her facial expression returning to normal, "You just remind me of an old teacher of mine."

"Oh, and there's definately no way that I'm going to be acting up on stage. I think I can handle some of the special effects though, make it look more flashy and the like." She says, abruptly, "But let's not think of that til later, how about we go get a meal? I'm starving."

 

[squirrel]

Dembrilion disregards the scowl, "I will only take a role in the play if its needed, since my skills lie in a different area, but we should get a good meal and discuss our superficial roles." He then looks at Alric, with a neutral tone, "If everyone else is fine with this, would you care to lead us to a somewhat respectable inn. I find the seedier inns unfitting to discuss this sort of business, but they do have other uses that we might require later, so it would also be appreciated if you give us directions to one of them also." Dembrilion glances around waiting for everyone to offer their thoughts.

 

[apocalypstick]

Christian runs his finger across the spines of the gathered books until he comes to a copy of the script of The Charmed Life of Earl Wheeler. He removes the script from the shelf and tucks it into his pack, then walks up behind and between Carrie and Dembrilion.

"A meal - absolutely," he agrees, smiling, as he places his arms around the shoulders of his new companions with the familiarity of childhood friends. "As for acting and whatnot, I daresay there is no need to worry yourselves overmuch about it. Our gracious patron has drawn us together for a reason. Surely he knows your value, both of you, and would not send a carpenter to mend a quilt, if you catch my meaning."

He shoots a sideways glance at Alric - warily, but only so for a moment brief enough that ten of them might pass in the span of an eyeblink. "So, Goodsir Alric, I beg you direct our humble company to a suitable dining-house. it is... unwholesome... to keep a lady waiting. Come! I shall buy the first round for us all."

 

[Neowolf]

Kail follows silently, eyeing each of his new companions as they go.

(OOC: Spot +10 and Sense Motive +0)

 

[hellbender]

[OOC Sorry, the start caught me off guard]

After having signed the parchment and telling Jasper he is used to having eyes watching him with suspicion Zinovii regards his new companions not without a bit of awe.

"I apologize for staring myself, I have not spent so much time around humans. While I have my own agendas, I cannot pass up this opprotunity to try my hand in the Troupe of the Painted Soul. While not much in the way of acting, I am quite learned in the ways of the arcane and will freely lend a hand in storytelling or sorcerous feats."

Zinovii appears eager to learn more about the lands where his comrades are from.

 

[dave_o]

Alric steps nonchalantly to the door, waiting until all are past, before shutting it behind him. Night has descended upon Jewel, stars a-twinkle in the sky, and various candle powered lanterns have been lit in the Poor Quarter. Standing on the cobbles, you can see beggars emerging down the way, gently pouring through piles of refuse for sustenence.

"As for a quality inn, there is the Starline in the Mercantile District, and while a bit expensive - it is fair, and safe," he runs a hand through his black tangles, slipping his longsword lower on his hip, "it is there we go."

He sets a quick pace through the Poor Quarter, and it seems the beggars know to not near him. Nearly thirty minutes pass walking, as the buildings give way to less cramped structures, clean and beautiful. The cobbles give way to a smoothly paved surface suitable for wagon travel, and though it is evening, the bustle of the Mercantile District is in full swing, ahead.

Alric is silent throughout the trip, and he quickly steps to a three storey stone building, constructed of a beautiful blueish stone. A banner hangs from a pole set into the stone, ebony with white starlets painted upon it, the word "Starline" carefully lettered in white near it's top. He taps the mahogany door with his scabbard-clad longsword, and nods to the group, walking back toward the Poor Quarter.

OOC: Kail, you notice nothing unusal about your compnions - well, other than the obvious. But you did notice that some of the beggars in the Poor Quarter were armed, poorly hidden beneath rags.

 

[Sollir Furryfoot]

Okay...lady-like type, eh? Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt to play the role. For now, at least.

"You're too kind." Carrie nonchalantly mentions to the man holding her shoulder, "Christian, is it? I'm sorry to say I haven't heard Lady Elena's Triumph myself, but would you mind reciting it over our dinner? It's not often that I have a chance to hear the author of such a famous poem perform it in front of me."

I really wonder if I can trust these people, but if something happens-I have some insurance at least. The druidess looks to her basket as the company gets to the tavern door.

 

[apocalypstick]

"Well, now; won't you tip a few pints back with us, Alric?" Christian asks their guide as he prepares to depart.

He pulls open the door and steps inside the Starline.

 

[apocalypstick]

"Christian, is it? I'm sorry to say I haven't heard Lady Elena's Triumph myself, but would you mind reciting it over our dinner? It's not often that I have a chance to hear the author of such a famous poem perform it in front of me."

"That it is, milady; that it is. As for Lady Elena's Triumph, I wouldn't go so far as to call it famous; it is a trifling thing, really - nothing more than that. Though if it would please you to hear some part of it, it would be my honor to oblige you."

"Now; let us find a table."