Three Faced Coin - IC Thread

[Zhoren]

-IntChk Thread-
-CS Thread-
-OOC Thread-

Ashenclaw, just two hours before the promised meeting between the newest member of the Council of Mages and the adventurers that had answered his call. One could tell that the whole town had a sort of excited air about it, something which had been lacking in Ashenclaw for a very long time. The taverns, pubs and inns all over town were filled to the brim with adventurers, leaving only the most elite taverns with enough space to hold any more adventurers. Most that had answered the call, being young and brash, and residents of Ashenclaw, neither had the need nor the resources to wait for the remaining two hours at such elite places. For those with more discerning taste however, one such tavern was the 'Adventuring Ranger.'

Being perhaps the only tavern in town which was presently in a state fit to receive any further adventurers, and to give them a place to spend time and socialize until it was time for the council hall to open its doors, it was drawing quite a number of interesting customers. Adventurers, and others who possessed discerning taste, OR those who would rather not pile themselves along with the rest of the adventurers into some of the cheaper taverns around town. At any rate, the setting sun was giving way to the evening, so the tavern was also drawing customers who would rather not wait outside in the dark.

Needless to say, the tavern also held some of its more regular customers, ones who did not flow in along with the crowd of newly arrived adventurers. There was, for example, a group of four elves sipping wine and chatting amongst themselves in the corner. They were clothed in garbs resembling those used by monks, and thus gave the impression that they were monks who were dispensing with their monastery's strict regulation against the consumption of wine. A closer look however, would reveal that they were in fact sipping water in wine glasses. As funny as that may seem, one would feel inclined not to laugh at them, seeing as they seemed quite serious about sipping their water as they talked about the recent rumors. Amongst other things, the rumors consisted of a funeral of an adventurer in the Port town of Excter being interrupted by enemies he made while alive, the story of slaver activity far to the north, the common story of two orc tribes waging a bloody war in the Badlands, and of course, the recent call for adventurers made by Tempest Darkraven.

The tavern of course also held a cloaked figure in the corner. No one quite bothered with him since 'cloaked figures in corners' was a rather common occurrence in taverns across the land; and in spite of the fact that said figure seemed almost to be trying to get some attention, he was consistently being ignored by the current clientele of the tavern. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that he was dressed rather gaudily in spite of being a 'cloaked figure', almost to the extent that he was more of a 'colorful figure' instead of a 'cloaked' one. But the lack of attention given to him didn't seem discourage him at all, in fact it seemed to encourage him to smile 'shadily' at any that would look at him. Well, while he seemed to believe that he was smiling shadily, he looked young, and his smile came across as more of an innocent grin, thus further ruining his image as a 'cloaked figure in the corner'

Another notable clientele of the tavern was perhaps the seven feet tall giant of a man standing near the doorway leading outside, leaning comfortably against the wall. He was standing at a sufficient distance from the door itself, so there was little chance of him being mistaken for the doorkeeper. A greatsword almost the same size as himself was strapped across his back, and he was clad in clothing resembling those worn by cavalrymen. His most defining feature however, was perhaps his face. If nothing else, one could at least say that his face did not match that of a giant, what with the gentle gaze with which he regarded everything. Should anyone regard him however, he would bow his head slightly in a gesture of politeness before raising his head again and regarding something else. While it was impossible to tell why exactly he was here, he seemed to be taking his time looking around and observing each of the visitors of the tavern, especially if they looked even remotely like adventurers.

The tavern keeper himself looked like quite the experienced figure. Approximately at his late fifties, it was clear that the he was a tiefling, given the horns that he sported on his head, and the reddish pigmentation of his skin. While he seemed busy reading a book most times, his gaze would travel to the door each time a new customer entered, following which he would flash a friendly smile, before returning once more to his book. From time to time, a customer would walk up to him and they would share a conversation, while his tone was quite friendly, he would normally return to his book immediately after it was over. Any service required by the clients would be provided with maximum efficiency but without his eyes leaving the book; his mannerism exuding experience and perfect confidence with every step.

A rather interesting looking menu hung at the counter, one that showed refined taste, and the fact that only refined customers visited here, among other things. For the day's breakfast items, the menu showed the simple dishes of Bacon, Chicken eggs, Quail eggs, Peach, Millet, each of which would cost 20gp. For lunch, the menu consisted of Rabbit stew, Soft cheese, Corn, Blackberries, at a cost of 30gp each. The supper items included Broiled catfish, Potato, Spinach, Nut bread, Wood-elven crisp cakes, costing about 25gp per item. For snacks, the menu included Curds, Melon, Sea oats, costing 10gp each. Since it was evening, a notice attached to the menu said that both supper, lunch and snack items would be served, and another notice listed a rather wide variety of drinks available; apparently, if the drink existed in the continent, it could be found here.

While this was just your average refined tavern at present, with a few interesting clientele amongst other things. The sands of fate were turning, flying as wisps of silvery dust in the air as it awaited the beginning of a new tale. Far in the future, stories would be written and songs sung about this very place, for this is where it all began...

[Hymusia]

Yolanda- The Tavern

The smoke filled den of an inn’s tavern, the clink and thud of glasses upon table tops and the cricket song like din of conversations that pooled and lapped like waves at a sea shore, a perfect place indeed. Originally she had travelled here for other reasons, the Adventuring Ranger was no place for a ‘lady’, so said Father Robinson anyway, full of drunks and gamblers. Of course she was far from a lady and she had the most fun with drunks and gamblers. Games were happening in many parts of the tavern, Mah Jong in the far right where some elf was losing terribly to a human with a dark bushy beard. Someone of course ought to tell the elf the human was cheating with an accomplice behind the elf and extra game tiles, Yola wouldn’t mind. Another game with a travelling man a set of cups and a ball was being played closer to the bar and many games of poker were accompanying conversation.

Her original reason had been to answer a poster that had caught her eye from her home town, An amusing thought there, a gypsy with a home. the father had been against it but had let her go. The church needed funds for the orphanage among other things; roof repair being the most urgent, and so reluctantly the father had let her go. However upon arriving to this town she relished the vibe of ‘easy pickings’, the usually sleepy town would have been easy enough, but with the buzz of adventure everywhere around it had people more unaware than usual. She had not lifted much in her opinion, a few pouches were of course a few coins lighter, but a good thief knew what and how much to take and how much to leave. Those who were stolen from would think they merely spent a little more, though a missing purse would of course meant outright theft.

At the moment she stood in the middle of the floor, a cleared space by the refined tiefling owner of the inn who had begged (well asked) her for entertainment for the restless and bored adventurers. She was only too happy to get paid to pick pockets and so of course she obliged the manager his request, blowing her pay on a strong shot of moonshine before rearranging her many bangles and chains. Today’s flowers within her hair were orchids, beautiful deep passionate blues with a golden vibrant enough to make a King’s crown blush and the purest white to make a cleric’s underskirts seem filthy. The commotion didn’t die down but she could feel eyes upon her as she moved, taking the centre of the room and allowing those vibrant eyes of hers to close.

There was no musical accompaniment, the bards seemed to be on break, or drunk, but she was sure the maestro of the bar would soon round up someone to play for the gypsy. Not that she would wait, the girl lowered to one knee, the other bent so she was close to the floor and with a startling ease she leant back, taut stomach skyward with her head balanced on one foot. With her middle fingers pressed to her thumb joints and hands making gentle circles her stomach began to undulate as her elbows bent and moved her fingers up into the air above her like twin snakes rising from a cave. Her head lifted and her shoulders swayed side to side as she slowly began to sit up from her ever so uncomfortable position, her fingers still spinning in intricate ways and the sounds of her own cons and metal creating the musical beat, somewhere a fiddle beginning to try and find its pace.

That had been what she was waiting for and as her back straightened and she was left on one knee she span to the left, the skirt ruffling lightly and the coins tinkling gently in time with the fiddle that found and began to play a eastern rhythm. She span back the way she came and soon she began to rise, balancing first on the balls of her feet with both arms sliding outwards moving in an opposing mirror affect, while one would move outwards, swaying slowly the other would remain close to her body only to be reversed with perfected detail, as once more her arms began to move above her head she began to stand, her rump swaying to the beat and her shoulders leant to the movements to give a more graceful affect. Her dance had begun and no doubt there would be plenty of chances to help a few of these dear chaps out with those heavy purses of theirs.

Sorry I don't know how to embed a video so you'll need to click the link. I guarantee it's worth it to get an accurate idea of how she dances. http://youtu.be/rYAfuyAItX8

[M@XWeru]

Kex could hear them, oh yes - she could hear them all, whining like puppies and muttering about it. It was unfair, they all thought, that they couldn't get a place at a nice, nice inn like this one. It had a name, this inn, Kex knew that, because all inns have a name. She didn't know the name of this inn because she couldn't read the sign, but she was sure it had one. She was a little sad that she didn't know the name of the inn, because that meant she couldn't tell everyone that she, Kex the kobold, had made that nice inn her home.

And such a pretty home it was too, so comfortable and warm and dark at the waste pile behind the outhouse. And every once in a while, a nervous little human would come with tasty food for her, all kinds of food together in a bucket, and she would jump out and go "boo!" and he would drop the bucket and run away. The first few times there were stray dogs too, that wanted to share the food. They were delicious too. The first time Kex had jumped out and yelled 'Boo', and the boy had run away, a much bigger human had come out right after, looking... not happy. Kex had made herself scarce without him noticing, since she was so nice and understanding - of course, he would want his privacy when he went to the outhouse. Kex did not want to intrude.

When Kex got back again, the man was gone and she was just in time for the next delicious serving. To get to eat all those things, eggs, melons and cheese and other things Kex never had, she couldn't have been happier. If this was how all adventures started, she would adventure every day - and she was sure that was the case, since she'd clearly heard (she thought) someone say that every good adventure starts in a tavern. Or was it an inn? Kex was not entirely clear on the difference between the two, but she was confident she would be able to tell if they had buckets of food or not. That way she'd know if she were at the right place.

Kex had only been at the inn since late last night, of course - she had wanted to make one last trip to the forest and catch some rabbits, so she could trade them for a nice new travelling robe (she wasn't wearing it now, obviously - what if she got food on it?). The merchant had given her one that had only a half-dozen patches and stitchings on it; Kex didn't want to look too fancy, and she'd just make new holes in it anyway. The little kobold, her muzzle covered in grey slop, looked up at the big, fancy inn-house itself, and in through its windows. Some human lady was shaking her floppy bits all over the place - of course, with humans, pretty much all their bits were floppy. Kex had seen some human bits flop about that she'd rather never see again. Luckily, it would only be a small while until the recruiting began - Kex would have to prepare her travel robe.

[ChaosMaster]

Jason walked excitedly down the road of Ashenclaw. The town was bustling with movement and noise, it was like the city itself was alive. It was an experience that Jason had never before been exposed too, and he was loving every second of it. While his head never actually moved, he still was able to take in all the sights and sounds of the city. Inns and Taverns of every size were filled to the brim with brave, or foolish, adventurers who wished to answer the call of the Counsel of Mages. Jason had never seen so many different colored energies; they ranged from blue to red and nearly every color in-between. He still was unsure exactly what that meant but he was fascinated by the spectacle.

Jason could not deny that he himself felt ecstatic about the coming meeting. It was to be his very first adventure, something he had longed for as long as he could remember. At last, he would be able to do some good; to fulfill what he believed was his life's purpose. The journey to Ashenclaw had been rather uneventful. All he had been able to accomplish was to aid an elderly man who was sick with a cold; and to give a would-be highway man a quick and informative, if a little painful, lesson in why it was wrong to try and mug a traveler.

But now it was time for him to partake in a real adventure, one in which he could actually do some good. Jason's thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a rather loud growl coming from his stomach. He had been so enthralled by the town that he had ignored his ravenous hunger. He patted his stomach as if to ensure it that it would soon be well fed and headed off, golden staff in hand, in search of a tavern where he could get some food.

It did not take Jason long realize that finding somewhere to eat may be difficult then he had originally anticipated. Every Tavern and Inn he passed seemed to be filled to the absolute rim. Right as Jason was about to begin cursing his ill-fated luck he stumbled upon one last tavern. It was a large tavern with words imprinted above the door. Unfortunately, the words did him little good because he was not able to read them very well. Letters were something that his unique sight had a great deal of trouble deciphering. Deciding that the words didn't really matter he adjusted the bandages that covered his eyes, and entered the tavern, his stomach rumbling with anticipation.

For the second time today, Jason's senses were assaulted by sights sounds...and smell that he had never before experienced. The sheer amount of life energies that people within the tavern possessed was staggering. At times it became hard for him to tell where one person ended and another one began.

Slowly Jason made his way through the tavern towards the counter. He was trying very hard not to bump into anyone, but it seemed to be much easier said than done. When he reached the counter he asked the tavern keeper, a tiefling from the looks of him, for some simple bread, cheese and a glass of cheap wine. It wasn't much, but Jason wasn't exactly rich either.

As he waited for his food Jason attempted to concentrate his dome of vision in order to have a clearer picture of what was going on. It was hard for him to make out details, but usually if he concentrated hard enough he could make out some facial features or the style of clothing a patron was wearing. He found himself concentrating a young dancer who seemed to be entertaining the tavern patrons. He could tell that many of the male patrons found her dance irresistible, but the effect was lost on Jason. It was hard to be seduced by flesh, if you could not actually see what flesh looked like. But still, Jason had to admit that she moved incredibly gracefully.

[Silent Vanity]

Vanity sat in her room observing her nightly meditation as a drunken warrior who recently found himself at the losing end of a brawl knocked at her door. Trying to ignore the man who had the mouth worthy of a sailor she continued her meditation. A few more moments passed until she finally gave up. After removing her light purple blindfold from her eyes she stood up and walked over to the door. Her hand slid over the sliding panel as she peered out the door. “May I help you good sir?”

“Damnit about time ye answered the door. The barkeep told me you could patch me up.” The warrior in fact was a dwarf about the height of chest. His rust brown colored beard and hair was slightly unruly and he smelled of a mixture of low grade alcohols. “Maybe after ye patch me up I can give you proper payment”, he said suggestively.

Vanity looked at the dwarf disgusted and without noticing swung the weighted end of her quarterstaff across the jaw of drunken man nearly knocking him into the rail. “I request you show respect if you wish your wounds to be tended to. Now let’s get to the business of my healing. The Order requests I charge for healing to outsiders to fund our temples. Have you the coin my small drunken customer for me to fulfill your request?”

With reluctance the dwarf handed Vanity ten coins. Sliding the coins into her purse she began chanting engulfing the dwarf in divine energy. The aura resembled a divine guardian, a humanoid female with wings to be specific. Within moments the dwarf was healed stumbling out of the door. Sighing at the thought a place like this lacked many schooled in the arts of divine magic she changed into a white silken cloak with embroidered symbol on the back of a rose. After taking account of where she placed things she cast a ward on the door to prevent lock picking and walked downstairs to the tavern area of the inn. The place was slightly expensive, but it was well worth the payment from what she saw. There were many different sorts of adventurers all in one place, no doubt to investigate these goblins and find fame. Eyeing each individual only for a moment or two she posted a bill on the wall advertising her services as a priestess. Hopefully she would have her choice of the finest protection among them, but anyone capable of keeping her out of trouble would do.

[Zhoren]

The graceful dancing was summoning more than just adventurers and rich patrons to the tavern; in fact, it added another layer of refinement to the already well embellished tavern, causing even those that could not afford the services of the tavern, to line up at its windows to get a chance at watching the dancer. It was not long therefore that a bard or two made its way to the floor and strung a fine rhythm for the dancer. The dancer also seemed to have caught the attention of the 'young boy in the corner', which is exactly what the 'cloaked figure' had turned into now, given that he had ceased with his shady smiles and decided to take off his hood after being ignored over a dozen times. Deciding apparently, that it was time for him to move out of the corner, the boy makes his way over to the middle of the tavern and takes a sit behind the lines of people who had freshly come in for the entertainment.

The tavern keeper was also quite pleased with the increase in his business, so much so that he had to get rid of his book to serve the sheer number of customers. Putting Jason's food and drink on the counter, the tiefling was about to move on to the next customer, but Jason's blindfold caught his attention. Asking one of the tavern boys to see to the other customers, he leaned on the counter in front of Jaosn, "evening," he said, "you 'ere to answer the call for adventurers too?"

The giant sized man near the door, who had only been observing the people of the tavern so far, finally decides to move away from the door and onto the mass of people that had now gathered in the middle of the tavern to observe the dancer. In spite of the size difference, no one other than outsiders seemed to mind his presence, few of the townspeople even greeted him with a "hello captain", to which he responded with a gentle smile and a nod. After observing the dancer for while, he moved on towards the counter to have a chat with the tavern keep, but something on the notice board on the way there caught his eye -- the advertisement for the services of a priestess. Moving to the woman in priestess' robes who seemed to be observing the other patrons of the tavern, he bowed politely before addressing her, "good evening madam," he said, "would you happen to be from Aerita?" After pausing for a while, he added, "most of the priests in our Church usually come from there...."

Outside, the town criers were shouting themselves hoarse as they announced the fact that the Council Hall would be open to the adventurer's within the next forty minutes or so, and that the meeting would begin soon after. One such crier had moved near to the tavern and noticed the crowd it was gathering at its windows. Being slightly of the mischievous type, he decided to move closer to the mass of people before shouting at the top of his voice. He was of course only shouting the announcement he was payed to, but the people gathered outside the tavern didn't like it much and was thus quick with their insults and 'get lost(s)'. While the crier was quick to make himself scarce, he noticed a single kobold staring into the tavern through the window to the very side. The town's only kobold inhabitant being known to him from before, he approached it, "hey Kex," he said, "eating from trash again?"

The newer patrons of the tavern aside, there were of course some of the more regular ones visiting for an evening drink. While some of them didn't mind all the hustle and bustle brought on by the hoard of young adventurers that had filled the town within the very short while since the Call was made, there were others that questioned the decision of the newest Council member. Why after all, would Ashenclaw need more adventurers, did it not have enough already? These questions and many other discussions of dark politics filled their conversation in the corners of the tavern where the cheeriness of the rest did not reach. Although, even they would take a look at the sensual display of the graceful dancer was putting in the center from time to time.

The rumors that floated around those tables, consisted mostly of how the Council had failed in the past, and how their decisions were presently being overly influenced by the new member, the stories of dark politics which started since his arrival, the reformations in the guard and the council, and so on and so forth. They talked of even darker rumors, including how the old captain of the guard was displaced forcefully after a branch of the military barracks had been mysteriously burnt down, of how a nun was found dead in the Merchant's Guild Hall, and so on and so forth. Every town had its dark side after all, and it would shine through for those with the ears for it, even through the current blanket of excitement that now covered Ashenclaw.

[Kostvel]

Kyoht walked through the bustling streets, oushing through the thick crowd that milled excitedly amongst the shops and stalls. Kyoht himself was wather weary of traveling amidst such a crowd, as it made it rather difficult to choose a straightforward path to his destination. Shuffling over to stand alongside a merchant hawking some sort of pies, he craned his neck around thrying to spot the various signs of the inns that dotted the streets. Most of the inns that he had been reffered to had been completely packed to the brim already by bouyant adventureres teeming with excitement.

Muttering to himself about the futility of ever finding an open in he continued down the street moving along with the ebb and flow of the crowd. As he moved along he could hear the town criers call out that there was only forty minutes or so untill the Council Hall's opening. Although at a moment such as this he had already given up hopes of being anywhere remotely near first.

As Kyoht idly reached up to scratch around his neck, he was suddenly pressed by a wall of humen flesh up against the backs of bystanders looking inside a tavern. His shield arm was pinned in an uncomfortable angle, and his other was pressed against his side. Looking about he could see that the crowd had shifted to the side to allow a covered wagon drawn by four oxen past, escorted by a few roughshod looking fellows. Though any thoughts he had on the matter were soon forgotten as the crowd thinned and he was able to somewhat shift about.

Using the rough wooden face of his kiteshield he pushed his way through the gathering of people outside the tavern untill he was able to garner a spot near the relatively clear front door. He had no idea what the tavern was called, but from what he could see it seemd pretty high end. He could hear music emanating from inside, and he could catch glimpses of dancing through the doorway as well. He could also pick up the smells of fine ale and good food, although this was tainted by the overall reek of the town itself.

Knowing that he couldn't afford such niceities he sidled along the outside untill he came to the mouth of an alleyway behind the inn that was surprisingly clear. Although almost instantly the reason became apparent due to the reek of slop that seemed to emenate from behind the inn. Regardless he took the momentary break from the crowd to lean against a wall, and shake the grime of the town form his boots. Hopefully it wouldn't be too long untill Councill Hall was opened.

[Scambo]

"Hey barkeep! My mug is gettin' dry over here!" Amaro Dimedito, Dread pirate of the Faceless Sea, shouted from where he slumped on the bar of the Peckish Wench. It was a dive for sure, but it met his needs and was easy on the purse strings. But soon the recruiters were going to start...recruiting, and no doubt the Peckish Wench would be rather...low on the list of a prospective adventurer..hire..er. The pirate had heard talk that there was an Inn favored by the elite of the adventuring world, one of which just happened to be a ways from the Wench.

Amaro waited patiently for the bartender to refill his glass before slopping the stuff down, a bitter, harsh ale that was vaguely comparable to cold sea water. Finished with his flagon and not desiring forcing more of the piss-water down, the pirate propped himself up on the bar table, dropping a silver penny on the table and rising somewhat unsteadily to his feet.

"Fellow patrons of the Peck...Perk..isssh Wench...the ale, tastes like piss...the rum, I'm fairly sure is piss and the staff...is not at all satis...satish...easy to look at, and on that note...I bid all of you good day." Amaro drawled, the alcohol and his lilting accent making him nearly unintelligible. The bartender's face turned sour but he pocketed the silver and set his steely eyes on the next thirsty drunk calling out for him. As the pirate staggered away from the bar, he passed a table of several shifty men dicing. As he walked by the pirate felt light fingers dip into his pockets, searching for his purse. Twisting, he kicked the offending man square in the jaw and sent him sprawling across the dice table, spilling drinks and sending the dice bouncing across the floor.

"A lesson for next time, friend." He said, attempting to withdraw his outstretched leg unsuccessfully before toppling to the floor in heap. Leaping to his feet, the pirate brushed himself off and cast an angry look about the tavern as though someone had tripped him up other than himself and gravity. With growl, he burst out of the door and into the street. Setting himself north, he began to walk Ashenclaw's main street, slipping past crowds and glaring down obvious pickpockets. Sometime had passed and eventually, Amaro found himself standing before an inn with people crowded up against the windows with people hustling in and out of the door. Glancing up at the sign, he gave a vexed chuckle.

"The Adventuring Ranger? Thats a terrible name for an inn! It doesn't imply cheap sex or booze for patronage at all! You dirt-eaters have no understanding of enticement!"

"Oi, what'd you just call me!?" Said one of the men crowding the window before he and two others turned and approached the pirate.

"Not from around here, are ya lad?" Asked one through the several teeth he had remaining. Each of them stunk of hooch which in Amaro's mind, was rarely a bad thing, but in this case made the men facing irritable. And, unpredictable.

"You talk funny strang'ah. You one o' dem Amethys?"

"Don't be daft," Chimed the third, "lookit 'is skin. 'es gotta be a Lyrkie!" The three drunks began arguing amongst themselves before the first drunk quieted the others.

"Oi lads, LADS! Now den, what was it you was a' callin' us, eh, Lyrkie? Speak up now, don't be shy!" The drunk drawled, hands fumbling into pockets for something. The pirate glowered, but said nothing. His hands had curled to fists and his dark eyes took on a fiery cast.

"Ey, Hubie? M-maybe we oughta walk away from this one.."

"Shut it you little shite! If your scared a' dis Lyrkie than fine! Piss off then, but me and Bertran' are gonna show'im what 'appens to uppity foreigners!" The drunk turned to face Amaro and instead caught a ringed fist across his jaw, sending him sprawling to the cobblestones. The pirate stood over the floored drunk, left fist still outstretched for the blow. The drunk's two friends stood stunned before one took off and the other rushed towards the pirate, hand fumbling for something within his dirty cloak. Whipping his free hand up to the cutlass lashed to his back, Amaro freed the sword and brought the heavy brass hand guard crashing down on his attacker's scalp before delivering a quick kick to the man's groin, dropping him a scarce few inches away from his friend. The sound of sword on scabbard and the general row had attracted some attention which Amaro sought to avoid by replacing his sword and quickly ducking inside the inn. Once inside, he looked about before calling out:

"Ey, any constables around? These two drunks just got into it outside and it looks pretty ugly. Well, uglier."

Quickly seating himself at the bar, he dropped a silver penny on the table and waved the bartender over.

"Hey boss, hows about some rum? Coastal, if you've got it. Oh, and leave the bottle." With that, the pirate leaned his back against the bar and settled his eyes on the dancer in the middle of the common room.

"Well now, maybe this place ain't so bad after all..."

[M@XWeru]

Kex, who had been staring entranced at the window - and seemingly oblivious to the crowd gathering in front of it - while chewing on a discarded chicken carcass, had been lost in thought and jumped almost her entire height when the crier adressed her. Though she'd almost choked on the delicious fowl, she recovered, bit down on the thing with a disgusting crunch and swallowed it whole so she could answer that accursed human. Stupid crier and his stupid-easy job; Kex could trot around and scream her lungs off for money too, but she didn't get to be crier. "Squemish human trash," she clarified, "sweet food for Kex." She huffed at the crier like she'd seen rich humans do to poor ones.

The truth was, Kex rather liked the town crier - he treated her much like any other human, but he didn't take her money or throw rocks at her. At least she didn't think he'd ever thrown any rocks at her - sometimes it was hard to tell who threw what, when there were many rocks coming at once. But Kex wanted to think that the crier hadn't thrown any rocks at her, so she'd decided to keep believing that until she found out otherwise. The kobold reached back into the slop bucket and fished out a large bone, and her eyes widened as she held it up and showed it to the crier in amazement. "Hind leg of pig," she declared in what seemed like awe-filled reverence, "grilled on fire and meat left on it." One quick lash of her dextrous tongue and the bone was clean, then she broke the thing in half and sucked the marrow out in an instant. "Humans throwed it away. Kex like to try human not-trash food."

After a brief exchange with the crier - it wasn't as if he had much of interest to say, that she could understand - Kex suddenly remembered that she had a meeting to get to, and soon. Kex had a keen sense of time, something most people didn't expect. In the jungle, knowing exactly how much time you had before the night-beasts began to wake could save your life. Having said her goodbyes, she scurried up a nearby wall, her lithe, clawed digits finding hand- and footholds in the cracks between stones. She disappeared from sight, turning only to look over her shoulder as some fool humans beat on each other outside the inn. Kex counted herself lucky they hadn't gone for her.

The soft clatter of claws against stone was easily drowned out by the general din of the city, letting Kex pass unnoticed over the wall and drop down into the alley behind it, just managing to dodge an idle human, who apparently had nothing better to do than loiter around her hiding place. The little kobold cursed her luck as she dodged away along the wall - she didn't have time to wait for him to leave, so she could only hope that with luck, if she ignored him he would go away. This was where she'd hidden her precious bundle, where she had all her things, and she didn't want to fight some big nasty human for it. With a sigh of resignation, she slipped out of and discarded her old robes - obviously with no conern for modesty - and began to dig the new one of the huge bundle she'd stuck in the darkest corner of the alleyway.

[Hymusia]

Yolanda- The barkeep

The songs would pause on a note which faded and as it paused so too did she, her form bent in such a way that would seem sensual if not incredible, but the moment the song would start again so would she. A fine sheen of sweat glistened on the dancers body and she realised at a glance why. Not only had she drawn a crowd inside the tavern but it seemed outside too had gathered a crowd at the windows. She could feel the intensity of the peoples gazes, some modest and impressed, others lusting and others still half interested. She was used to the gazes though, she walked down the street everyday in bare feet and a get up that was louder and more attention grabbing than the criers bell.

As she danced she got to catch glimpses of those eyes that watched that interested her the most. She was not of course capable of remembering everyone but she had noted a big bear of a man who people had called ‘Captain’ and had decided his pocket should remain nice and heavy, it just wasn’t wise to poke a bear after all. Another man, or was it a boy, with quite the intense stare was watching her, his outfit even more eye catching than her own in its ways and she blew him a little kiss across her fingertips before she danced away again. The third who caught her attention was a salty- soak, he made enough commotion as he came in that it was hard not to notice him, he if nothing else would be an easy mark since he seemed over half over already.

However, and much to her surprise at that, it seemed picking pockets was not a necessity tonight. Several people had already thrown coins, or tucked them into her hand as she passed them by and it seemed set she’d make a pretty penny without having to break the law in a room full of skilled adventurers and guards. Which one had to say, was always a good thing. The problem though was what to do with the coins that she was gathering and the ones littering the floor. One of the tiefling’s assistant’s seemed to have a rather smart idea however and shifted to the designated ‘dance floor’ with a wooden bowl, picking up some of the coins that littered the tavern floor and putting them within it. Keeping within the dance and rhythm of her instrumentalist’s she turned her back to the bowl and arched backwards so she might slide the tips she had in her hand into the bowl and caress the assistant’s cheek as he quickly moved to stand and back away.

Dancing also had another use, one she more readily employed, people spoke freely without care for entertainment, even as she drew close to tables people did not stop their idle chatter. While some of it was the usual town yawn about who the mayor was seeing and that Bert the baker was actually using a finer flour and that’s why his bread was so good. There were always little gems to be had, and just like her tips, she was getting a pay load tonight. Old, grumpy men were useful for so many things, but uttering the truth with bile and contempt was perhaps their most useful asset in her opinion.

Finally though the bards desired a break and to a round of applause the dancer uncurled from her position upon the floor and stood to take a bow. Spotting a few more coins she plucked them up and placed them within the bowl which she shifted into her hand and slipped towards the bar with it, on the way a drunken man reached out to grab her chest and was confused as he fell backwards off his stool and onto the floor. His friends jeered and put it down to the alcohol he had consumed, while anyone who was sober and bored enough to watch an old man try and grab a young woman’s chest, would have probably noticed that the dancers foot had somehow got tangled in the stool leg and jerked the stool a few inches, unbalancing the man. She merely offered the table a small smile and hurried onto the bar where she tried hailing the tiefling’s attentions. “Master!” The heaving bar had little room for people to stand, but the bonus of being the dancer everyone had watched for the last half hour or so was that people tended to make room for you. Once the tiefling’s attention was firmly grasped of course she presented the bowl. “This needs to be divided into three shares Master and I am incapable of counting, would you please do the honours? There is to be a share for you Master, a share for myself and of course a share for the disgruntled musicians who think they’ve been over looked.” She had a warm smile which matched the exotic spice of the perfume that floated about her as light and unobtainable as an Arabian dream. Her voice filled with mirth and thesensual accent of one whose life was once between sand dunes and firepits. Then she took to tilting her head just so, so that she was able to see the look of sheepish embarrassment on the fiddler’s face and the uncomfortable shuffle the rest had taken up.