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Crimsanotikku The Rhyming Wizard from Har-Kuun Since: Apr, 2014
The Rhyming Wizard
#176: Aug 24th 2014 at 4:51:27 PM

Vythlian, too, stared at the patrons of the bar as he stepped in. The hooded man piqued the interest of the dark elf, but he instead headed straight for the bar.

He sat next to Mirana and took off his helmet, set it down on the counter then pulled his mail hood down. If none in the party he was traveling with knew he was a dark elf, surely they did now. The hooded man received another momentary glance from Vythlian, who then turned back to face the barkeep.

He interrupted the exchange between Mirana and the bartender. "I'll have the finest drink you have."

grup we please
StygianEmperor Full-Conversion Cyborg from the Stygian Empire Since: Feb, 2014 Relationship Status: Above such petty unnecessities
Full-Conversion Cyborg
#177: Aug 24th 2014 at 5:35:48 PM

Vythlian found the man's black hood to be the rounded-style of a monk's, though richly embroidered, and through his matching cloak, he appeared to be armored quite heavily. He kept his head down and hood drawn, apparently trying not to be noticed.

Alaeddin, meanwhile, couldn't help but notice the two orcs. The orange tattoos across their arms and chests would place them in the Stormcrash clan, if memory served. Though he wasn't even sure why he knew that information.

The barkeep smiled at Mirana, "Of course, ma'am." She poured a tankard of golden liquid from an octagonal cask, and set it down before the ranger. The barkeep cocked her head inquisitively,

"Those markings look Sel'eshan. How did you come about-"

Vythlian interrupted her question with his drink order, causing her to look over and give a small gasp as she saw his face. She visibly endeavored to keep herself from trembling.

"Emberglare." She finally said quietly, a statement of apparent recognition. She turned and reached for a bottle from the top of the rack, pulling it down for the blackguard's inspection. "Bloodwine, sir, straight from Talakh'on. Aged five decades."

edited 24th Aug '14 7:16:12 PM by StygianEmperor

Flesh is a design flaw.
nman Since: Mar, 2010
#178: Aug 24th 2014 at 7:13:08 PM

"Of course they are," Mirana said, drinking half of the tankard in one pull. "Not bad," she added, licking the roof of her mouth a few times to sample the aftertaste of the ale. "Haven't you ever seen a Wood Elf before? We've all got them."

"Hey, what's the matter with you?" she said, looking at the nigh-trembling dark elf, then over towards the armored one. "Ha! Don't let this one scare you. If he comes between me and my drinking, those spikes and skulls are going to look a lot less intimidating when I'm done with him."

edited 24th Aug '14 7:13:27 PM by nman

Crimsanotikku The Rhyming Wizard from Har-Kuun Since: Apr, 2014
The Rhyming Wizard
#179: Aug 24th 2014 at 7:54:15 PM

Vythlian gave Mirana a quick scowl before he grabbed the drink and turned his attention back to the barkeep.

He inspected the bottle and set it back down slowly. "Five decades," he repeated in a neutral tone. As if to make it unsure whether or not he was impressed or simply being sarcastic.

"I'll have a glass..." his voice trailed off and he smirked. "Your name? You've heard of me; I would like to make this acquaintance mutual."

edited 24th Aug '14 7:54:59 PM by Crimsanotikku

grup we please
StygianEmperor Full-Conversion Cyborg from the Stygian Empire Since: Feb, 2014 Relationship Status: Above such petty unnecessities
Full-Conversion Cyborg
#180: Aug 24th 2014 at 9:03:17 PM

The barkeep lost her friendly demeanor. She clearly had no desire to become familiar with the blackguard as she changed to the dark elven language,

"Au- Aulinn. I - well, everyone in Whitehollow, really - thought you were dead... or worse."

She poured him a goblet of the drink. There was no actual blood in it, he knew, though it shared the color. Vythlian had heard it was named for the blood spilled from the many slaves hired to work the Talakh'on vineyards. It wasn't known how the noble Talakhar family managed to reliably grow their grapes in the hard land, but they claimed the blessing of Illithrion. Some, however, suspected magic was afoot.

Either way, the family was deprived of their slaves after the conquest of Tor'koril, and the vineyards greatly suffered. Bloodwine became scarce, driving up the price considerably.

Out of the corner of his glowing eye, Vythlian noticed the hooded man turn to glance at him.

The barkeep nervously smiled at Mirana, clearly apprehensive at her taunting. She returned to the trade tongue, "You're a... half-orc, then?"

Flesh is a design flaw.
nman Since: Mar, 2010
#181: Aug 24th 2014 at 9:36:08 PM

"I'm a half-elf," Mirana said shortly.

Crimsanotikku The Rhyming Wizard from Har-Kuun Since: Apr, 2014
The Rhyming Wizard
#182: Aug 24th 2014 at 10:23:15 PM

Vythlian was amused between the banter of Aulinn and Mirana. He took a sip of the wine and grinned against the glass.

Then the hooded man had finally returned a glance and it sent an uneasy feeling up his spine. Whitehollow. The name repeated in his mind and the familiar taste of home that met his lips was too much for his scarred mind to bear. He had left his old life behind him once he found the book. The book! A surge of pain shot to his head and he grabbed the metal box on his back. He clutched it in his hand—the feeling gave him a euphoric high—and then he heard them. The whispered riddles of the demons he had bound cried out to him. But then he came to his senses soon enough and let go of the book, and the demonic voices were immediately silenced. Though to the common onlooker, it had simply looked like he had grabbed something on his back, as if to check and see if it were still there.

He set the glass down on the bar and forced an uneasy smile to Aulinn. "I've never been better," he said as he shot the hooded man one more glance.

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Pblades Since: Oct, 2009
#183: Aug 24th 2014 at 10:29:10 PM

Hand on his chin in contemplation, Alaeddin methodically sort through where that picket of information came from.

Stormcrash clan. He must've heard it somewhere, but was it in the high court of the sultan, or among the other gutter trashes in the sewer?

All the while, he observed the carousel of the pair of orcs, not bothering to conceal his wondering glance.

Fauxlosophe Since: Aug, 2010
#184: Aug 24th 2014 at 11:16:40 PM

Colm came out of his daze and reverie and came to the bar, where he put down a few more of his own coins and asked for a recommendation of something cheap and red.

While he did so, he scanned around for any potential members of his own secret church, particularly amongst the humans.

Tricksen Guess Who? from Somewhere Near You Since: Dec, 2013 Relationship Status: If you like it, then you shoulda put a ring on it
Guess Who?
#185: Aug 25th 2014 at 12:22:59 AM

"A glass of that 'Refuge in the Tankard' please. It's been a long time since I've had a sip of anything tasting even vaguely like the drinks from Tor'koril. And some good meat with that, if you have some." Gliding to the front of the bar, and in front of Mirana, Devlin placed his order smoothly, having grown impatient with all of the banter that had got in the way of him and his order.

If you're reading this you have 5 seconds to...
Sharur Showtime! from The Siege Alright Since: Oct, 2012 Relationship Status: I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me
#186: Aug 25th 2014 at 12:40:42 PM

"If you have any of the dwarven brew left after my companion's glass, I'd gladly have some of my kin's brew," Weyland said, as he observed the quality of drinkware with an artisan's eye, as he looked around the at the patrons. The dwarf tried to keep his attention on the other patrons, trying to determine who could possibly be of help, and who might be a hindrance, yet his attention kept drifting to his companions. The words of the armored dark elf seemed at first to be simple arrogance, but the reaction of the bartender suggested that there might be something solid behind that arrogance. As for the green woman, well, Weyland wasn't the most prideful of dwarves, but he was still a dwarf, and by Undin's forge, he was not going to let anyone take away the first chance he'd had in years to taste dwarven made alcohol if he could help it.

edited 25th Aug '14 12:41:05 PM by Sharur

Nihil assumpseris, sed omnia resolvere!
StygianEmperor Full-Conversion Cyborg from the Stygian Empire Since: Feb, 2014 Relationship Status: Above such petty unnecessities
Full-Conversion Cyborg
#187: Aug 25th 2014 at 5:37:56 PM

"Apologies," Aulinn replied. It was never easy to refer to those of mixed race in such a way that would be inoffensive. She was careful to avoid eye contact with Vythlian as she attended to the rest of the party.

Devlin brusquely leaned over the counter from the other side, getting the barkeep's attention. She smiled courteously, "Of course." She pushed through a doorway behind her to relay the order, returning to pour a pale drink from another cask, and set it before him. The meat followed soon after, carried by an unsmiling dark elven man with a long scar down the side of his face. He said nothing as he returned to the kitchen.

To Weyland, she replied, "I'll try to squeeze out as much as I can. Sorry about that, it comes a long way - from the brewery in Reimskegge, if you're familiar - so we don't get shipments as often as some of our patrons would like."

She was able to get about a half tankard for the dwarf. The wooden cup, being clearly elven-made, was more concerned with form over function. Regrettably for Weyland, in this case, that meant volume.

To Colm, Aulinn recommended a popular Stygian wine. She poured him a goblet as he looked over the patrons. A few dark elves seemed to have perked up since Vythlian had exchanged words with the barkeep. The two orcs were nearly finished with their tankards, their harsh-sounding language slurring significantly. The five or so humans had mostly segregated to themselves, quietly staring into their drinks. Only two seemed of any interest. A pair of men quietly talked amongst themselves in a booth, both sporting closely shaven heads. If any in that bar were Pyrianist conspirators, it would be them.

Alaeddin, meanwhile, was having brief flashes of raiding ships landing along the Tarulic coast, their seemingly crude wooden hulls painted with orange and red bolts of lightning. Waves of a feeling akin to nostalgia washed over him.

At the bar, Vythlian could still feel the voices stirring in the back of his mind;

Why do they all yet live?

These mortals only waste your time.

This city sings with our brethren.

The magus is infected. Boil it from his blood!

Removing the helmet seemed to quiet them sometimes, but touching the book had roused them yet again. Looking over to the man in the monk's hood again, they inadvertently met each other's gaze, and The Whispered Riddles went dead silent. It startled him a little, suddenly feeling as though he were completely alone as the man's pale eyes widened. He sat absolutely still, as if waiting for Vythlian to make the first move.

edited 26th Aug '14 1:16:50 PM by StygianEmperor

Flesh is a design flaw.
nman Since: Mar, 2010
#188: Aug 25th 2014 at 6:12:25 PM

"Here, if it means that much to you, I'll return the favor from yesterday," Mirana said, sliding the unfinished half of her tankard to the dwarf.

"Get me a glass of your strongest drink," she added to the innkeeper. "And I'll need a keg of your regular brew. No rush on that, just take it to my room when you get around to it."

She paused, then blinked. "I'm also going to need a room."

edited 25th Aug '14 6:13:07 PM by nman

Sharur Showtime! from The Siege Alright Since: Oct, 2012 Relationship Status: I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me
#189: Aug 25th 2014 at 8:21:19 PM

Weyland nodded his thanks towards Mirana, and took a large gulp of ale, draining the half-tankard as if it were a waterskin from his days of walking through the deserts of Terul. The taste brought back memories, of a quiet and peaceful feeling of belonging, even in the din and chaotic atmosphere of a dwarvish drinking hall, of knowing where he was going to be the next day, the next week, the next year, and what he was doing. Of being certain, of belonging, of being with...

Weyland closed his mind to the painful train of thought. Instead, he placed two silver dekon on the bar. "For my friend's drink," he said, nodding towards Mirana as he replaced his traded his empty tankard with Mirana's gift, "and one for myself, as well."

He turned to the bartender. "You know our armored companion, it seems?"

edited 26th Aug '14 10:48:49 PM by sharur

Nihil assumpseris, sed omnia resolvere!
Pblades Since: Oct, 2009
#190: Aug 25th 2014 at 10:07:16 PM

Seated in the dark corner, Alaeddin gnawed at his thumb with his enlarged foreteeth, drawing blood. With it, he draw a symbol - a simple circle of binding - on the wooden desk and summon the lesser Jinn of Discord, At-Tafreeq, the spirit that specializes in creating strife and conflict between friends to his side. Brawling orcs' always a distracting spectacle.

Thusly enspirited, he turned his attention toward the crossbreeds. While his companions talked with the bartender- hopefully they remembered why they came here in the first place- he would seek out the lowly, for they are the carrier of information as surely as diseases.

Crimsanotikku The Rhyming Wizard from Har-Kuun Since: Apr, 2014
The Rhyming Wizard
#191: Aug 25th 2014 at 11:57:40 PM

Go now.

Vythlian set 10 dekons on the counter and walked off with his drink in hand, helmet in the other. He gave Aulinn a quick glance as he left and headed towards the hooded man.

He pulled up a seat and sat across the table from the man, immediately placing both his helmet and glass on the table. He stared at the man for a moment before any exchange was made.

"And just who might you be?" he asked inquisitively.

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StygianEmperor Full-Conversion Cyborg from the Stygian Empire Since: Feb, 2014 Relationship Status: Above such petty unnecessities
Full-Conversion Cyborg
#192: Aug 26th 2014 at 1:57:28 AM

"...Oh. Very well," the surprised barkeep answered Mirana. She got a key off a nearby wall for the ranger. The stairs on the left wall of the establishment would lead to the rooms, surmisedly. "I'll have Nevath figure something out. As far as the strongest drink, well...."

Aulinn pulled down another bottle, filled with a bright orange liquid, "Incendi whiskey, more commonly known as 'Dragon's piss.' It's considerably spicy, and alcoholic."

The dwarf's question seemed to put her back on edge, and she only answered as Vythlian walked out of earshot, "Emberglare? I don't know him personally - just heard descriptions - but his name is obviously well-earned. He was a mercenary for a century or so, mostly selling his services out of Whitehollow, where I used to live. Not an uncommon profession there, but he distinguished himself when he left for the last Pyrian wars to join with Stygia - and came back looking like that."

She leaned in close, "They say he learned dark sorcery by making pacts with the emperor's demons before they were all killed off. With those eyes, I can believe it."

Vythlian himself had sat down on the bench across from the man in the monk's hood, who looked unsure as to whether or not he should draw his sword. This close, the blackguard could tell the man was hellspawn, based on the strange white eyes, and his pale skin and angular features meant he was probably dark elven as well. Black plate armor with intricate gold and red trim showed beneath his cloak. He answered the question cautiously,

"That depends on why you're here, I suppose. I've made more than a few enemies in this city, so I expect you're one of their mercenaries come to kill me, but I was hoping to get a few more minutes of peace to myself," he nodded toward the half-eaten meal in front of him.

The silence of the demonic spirits in Vythlian's armor was becoming unsettling. The man met his gaze easily as he spoke, his own white eyes showing no fear whatsoever.

Alaeddin could make out a few crossbreeds in the room; all of whom were half-elven. Two seemed to find solace in eachother's company at a table, another laid his head down across the bar.

edited 26th Aug '14 2:41:02 AM by StygianEmperor

Flesh is a design flaw.
Tricksen Guess Who? from Somewhere Near You Since: Dec, 2013 Relationship Status: If you like it, then you shoulda put a ring on it
Guess Who?
#193: Aug 26th 2014 at 5:50:48 AM

Slapping a few coins onto the table and taking his drink and meal, Devlin split off from the group, if possible going to an empty table near his fellow dark elves, and failing that simply an empty table near conversing patrons or an empty table, period.

Tucking into his meal with great gusto, and washing it down with his drink afterward, the highwayman would try and eavesdrop on any seemingly relevant conversation, his energetic eating hopefully disguising his true intention.

If you're reading this you have 5 seconds to...
nman Since: Mar, 2010
#194: Aug 26th 2014 at 11:37:11 AM

"Wouldn't surprise me one bit," Mirana said to the barkeep. "He seems like he's three diseased cultists shy of a plague-spawning ritual, if you catch my drift. Selling his soul and mind to some demons because he's scared and would do anything for a taste of power seems like the sort of thing that would fit. Wouldn't you agree?" Her last question was aimed towards Weyland.

"Anyway, Dragon's Piss?" she added, looking at the bottle. "Well I guess it'll have to do. I'll take the whole bottle, always good to have on the road." She pulled out the small bag with jewelery she had taken from the dead bandit, and poured the contents out on the bar. "You seem like the sort to like pretty things, don't suppose you'd take this as payment? Otherwise I got coin for you, but I need to know the name of a jeweler."

sharur Showtime! from The Siege Alright Since: Oct, 2012 Relationship Status: I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me
#195: Aug 26th 2014 at 11:42:28 AM

"Thank you very much for the information," Weyland said, finishing off his dwarven drink reluctantly. It was likely to be the last he could partake of for a long time. He placed a few dekon on the bar, cursing himself inwardly for being so free with his money lately. "It is good to know who one is traveling with," he said aloud.

Nihil assumpseris, sed omnia resolvere!
Crimsanotikku The Rhyming Wizard from Har-Kuun Since: Apr, 2014
The Rhyming Wizard
#196: Aug 26th 2014 at 6:42:47 PM

"Know this, Hellspawn, you would know if I had come to kill you," Vythlian spat. He paused, perhaps seeing someone he could potentially relate to.

He took a sip of his drink and became a bit more casual in posture. "Vythlian. Emberglare," he said shortly with an extended arm.

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StygianEmperor Full-Conversion Cyborg from the Stygian Empire Since: Feb, 2014 Relationship Status: Above such petty unnecessities
Full-Conversion Cyborg
#197: Aug 26th 2014 at 9:29:28 PM

Devlin found a seat amongst his fellow dark elves, and began listening in,

"...he's just biding his time. As if humans know the meaning of time. I'll blink and he'll be a decrepit old man. Then we'll see who owns the district."

A pair of elven women talked nearby,

"...I just don't see what's wrong with it. My mother always treated her slaves well, as did her mother, and her mother before that. Of course you have to be firm with them or else they'll get presumptuous, but we rarely saw need to use torture."

At the bar, Aulinn smiled politely at Mirana as the ranger jested. Taking the jewelry, she turned it over in her hands, then nodded, "A fair trade."

The hooded man across the table from Vythlian narrowed his eyes suspiciously. He eventually took the blackguard's outstretched claw-like gauntlet in his hand, causing The Whispered Riddles to physically jolt. The man paused at this a moment before replying.

"Theridan. Quite honestly, though, I'm disappointed; fighting you promised to be interesting."

edited 26th Aug '14 9:30:37 PM by StygianEmperor

Flesh is a design flaw.
Crimsanotikku The Rhyming Wizard from Har-Kuun Since: Apr, 2014
The Rhyming Wizard
#198: Aug 26th 2014 at 9:55:37 PM

Vythlian continued to sip on the wine. His eyes widened and then he laughed. "You may still get the opportunity yet," he taunted.

The silence of those damn demons was both unpleasant, but welcome. It had been a long time since he had his mind to himself. In this moment of mental respite, he thought it strange that Theridan refused to offer him a family name—or title—of any kind, though made no mention of it. Even stranger, he wondered, if this man's demonic blood is what kept The Whispered Riddles silenced; worse still, if he was aware of Vythlian's true nature and was secretly plotting something.

"I'm here traveling with some...companions of mine," he continued, "we're at this inn for gods know what. Trying to find some noble." He shrugged and took another drink.

grup we please
sharur Showtime! from The Siege Alright Since: Oct, 2012 Relationship Status: I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me
#199: Aug 26th 2014 at 10:55:39 PM

Weyland turned to his half-elf companion. "Aye, there are always those who want power for its own sake, the poor, pitiable fools." The dwarf looked pensive for a moment.

"Anyway, the last time we were drinking together, I told you why I agreed to this errand. If I may ask, what drives you to do the same?"

Nihil assumpseris, sed omnia resolvere!
StygianEmperor Full-Conversion Cyborg from the Stygian Empire Since: Feb, 2014 Relationship Status: Above such petty unnecessities
Full-Conversion Cyborg
#200: Aug 26th 2014 at 11:35:03 PM

Theridan relaxed, and took a bite from his plate, "I haven't been here long, myself - though I can tell you, you won't find any nobles in this part of the city."

He looked over at the bar, "Quite the band of misfits, aren't you?"

Flesh is a design flaw.

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