Seaside Tavern {IC}

[halfury]

Jackrom relaxing his seat

Jackrom's nostrils flared as a new smell entered his nose and he saw the creature enter the bar. He remember meeting some in the past, some sane, some, well not so sane. His instincts insisted that it'd be a much more beneficial idea to stay in his seat and not get involved, but his curiosity overcame him and he got up to sit next to the beast and talk with it.

As he walked towards the bar he tried to remember it's language and smiled as he did, silently sitting next to it and looking at it with a smile on his face.

"I haven't seen one of your kind in many years. Let alone one intelligent enough to order a drink in a bar. I'm Jackrom, nice to meet you." Jackrom said politely in this creatures native tongue. He sipped from an elven canteen and sat quietly, deciding he wouldnt bother him for a response.

[Fallenreaper]

Maria made an imposing image, her body full and held high, a mere 5’7” as she slithered along. Her wide snake body coiled and moved with ease into the tavern, thick hair with a slight wavy to it. The long bangs in back with an intertwining reed woven into the shape of a serpent. Angular eyes darted out across the room; a simple short shirt covered her torso pure female human while a thin limp let a slender fingered hand graze away a stray white bang of hair among the black streaked with dried red. It smelt of blood. Scars crisscrossed her thick snake portions, twenty five feet in length and graceful never the less while muscles coiled and unfurled to a table. Her eyes were black soulless pits that seemed to reach beyond eternal damnation and when contracted, the yellow eyeball could be seen.

Despite the tint of boa green, her flesh was white and flawless compared to her serpent half. If Maria stood completely up her height would reach ten foot. She looked to be about twenty six but her age far succeeds that by over thirteen hundred years. The scales trailed form her shoulders to around her collar bone outlining the grace of it, then following done her elegant arms to the just half way the upper section. Her tongue lashed out, twirling as it smelt the air picking up most scents and ending in a smirk. It was an interesting place. She noticed a plump woman with a wooden tray in her hand, likely a barmaid, and motioned with her for the woman.

“Be a dear and get a hunk of roasted meat and something sweet to wash it down with,” Maria or Mar as she preferred, said in her sickly sweet voice that had lead more men into her lair than flies to honey. Without any other words, Mar slide her hand into a tied leather bag about her human waist and pulled from it three gold coins and two silver. Mar only judged at the price but it seemed fair enough.

As the bar maid left, the serpent woman slide the chair effortlessly from her side, making larger the space as she lowered herself down. Her elbows sat up the table, a well tone tail coiled about the table legs around her making almost impossible for anyone to sit without getting her attention. Her mind wandered as she locked eyes with anyone brave enough to, patiently waited for food and drink.

[player one]

Currently between adventures, Gavaska Slicksword entered the tavern looking for more than wenches and beer. He moved quickly across the main floor, just another Human Rogue in from the cold, with leather armour and hooded eyes. Dark eyes and darker hair, with one hand he steadied a set of saddle bags over one shoulder. His other hand rested on the hilt of the weapon that had earned Gavaska his nom de plume - a long Flamberge blade.

Entering the Back Room, Gavaska looked around for a dark corner in which to sit and give his eyes a chance to adjust to the gloom.

[Lillian Thorne]

Florie felt the eyes on her before she even saw them. Her skin crawled and she turned and looked up, wincing as she spotted the three eyes that looked down at her. She hated, simply hated those who didn't look human. Fortunately they weren't all that frequent at the bar and her boss had spoken with her several times about tolerance. She let her disgust show on her face but kept her voice pleasant even if the tone was clearly a lie.

"Certainly....." she paused as if its gender wasn't apparent in its voice, but really who could tell with these things. "Sir." she added. "That'll be right up."

As she moved off to fetch the dark ale she shuddered as if sloughing off the thing's alien contamination only to see that poor Lannah had another thing.

"Two in one day," she muttered to herself "Grim really needs to make some fucking rules about them, things make the Barbarian look sweet and mannered." that her observation was bullshit didn't register to Florie who was well content with her prejudices.

She fetched the thing's ale and with a look of barely concealed contempt placed it on the counter and took the chance walk back towards the kitchen, she needed a smoke now more than ever.

[Unlit]

Ragnor to Andre, to Sev, at the Bar

The barbarian looked over to Andre, and his eyebrows climbed right up into his hairline. Was the skinny little man talking to... to him? Slowly, so slowly, Ragnor glanced behind him, as if expecting there to be someone else behind his shoulder that Andre would be addressing... because obviously, such a smaller fellow would NOT be saying such a thing to Ragnor! Ragnor, who had slain a pack of wolves with his teeth alone! Ragnor, who had crushed a giant's skull in one hand! Ragnor, who had de-virginized twelve virgins in a single night (and possibly one girly man -- he was rather drunk that night, and not very choosy with what went where, or who was getting the what in the where)! Ragnor, who had dethroned the chieftain of the Tribes of Elk, Bear, Walrus, and Otter, all by his lonesome in single combat!

Ragnor squeezed his axe handle till his knuckles turned white, and he took a last healthy swallow of ale. Ragnor would chop off this small man's pee-pee and feed it to the goats, or so help him, he'd-

"Gaaaaaah!!!"

The barbarian emitted a rather absurdly shrill, embarrassingly womanly cry, and fell backwards right off his bar stool.

Some... thing... had taken a seat at the bar!

"...the fuck is that thing!?!" Ragnor exclaimed, from his vantage on the floor. Perhaps, realizing what a sight he made, he scrambled quickly to his feet and put on an appropriately barbarian-ish scowl, glaring at anyone who might've been looking his way beforehand.

Then he jabbed an accusing finger at Andre. "Not only are you a girly man, but you're a trickster and summoner of demons!" Ragnor waved his hand at Sev insistently. "You'd send monsters to do your work for you! Such evil sprites will not cow Ragnor of Heafstaag, though! I challenge you and your foul pet to combat!"

xOxOxOxOx

Grim, Proprietor of the Tavern, to Gnap, in the kitchen

A large, slow shadow fell over Gnap ominously, and a sound like thunder rumbling in the distance. A towering man stood over the boy, bearded and scarred face scowling, the one good eye glaring from beneath the low ledge of its bushy eyebrow. Meaty fists the size of cooked hams were planted on the man's hips. He looked over the young boy critically, that single eye narrowed.

At length, the man grunted.

Then he spoke, with a low voice like rocks crackling that made the floorboards rattle. "You wanna filch like a rat in MY kitchen, you gotta work for it, Boy."

The big man slowly raised one of those huge hands high, palm held threateningly toward Gnap... then Grim swiped down, as if to pummel the lad... only to instead snatch a rag right off the counter beside him. He flung the rag at Gnap's chest.

"Get out there and see if Florie needs help with anything," Grim growled. "And don't let me catch you lurking in here again unless there's a broom in your hand!"

[halfury]

Jackrom going to a table next to Maria to chat

Jackrom decided now would be a very good time to get the hell out of dodge and slowly got up and backed away from them all. Taking a seat at a table adjacent to Maria's and looking at her before looking back to the fight.

"Blast. That snake lady is gonna make this interesting too, I really hope I dont fall for anything this time... last time i had to fight my way out of some anaconda harlot's stomach...." Jackrom thought slowly getting nervous about the whole atmosphere and situation in the bar.

"So who do you think will win this fight?" Jackrom said so the others couldn't hear to Maria. "My moneys on the 3 eyed brute."

[tirgesfu]

AH! It was a giant. A huge grizzly overgrown jumbo one eyed thing and he was after Gnap. He should have run but Gnap was frozen. He couldn’t find his thin legs to propel him away. And from the little light that snuck in around the figure Gnap knew he wouldn’t make it through. Right when he was sure he would be the food for the bellowing voice a soft rag hit him in the chest.

He wasn’t dead? Gnap lived.

He blinked and figuring he better move fast before the grumbles changed to biting teeth, he pushed himself out from under the table and sprang through the door to the bar.

CRASH!

He pushed the door so hard it flew open, hit something, flew back and smacked him in the face. He stood still for only a second too afraid to look back to the eye patched man. Then slower he opened the door and sheepishly stepped through. Gnap took three steps in. He held the rag out in front of him like some shield or message that would explain why he was there.

“Florie?” He squeaked trying to find his frightened voice and not looking to anyone in particular. “Please don’t eat me.”

[Roose Hurro]

Sev, on Barstool...


For one of those wonderful moments that at the time may have seemed of ill omen, Sev found himself in a difficult situation. Barbarian on the floor, barmaid obviously not happy to see him... well, it wasn't like this was the first time. One risk any vacationer had to acknowledge. Especially when said vacationer traveled by portal to distant realms. And this realm had so far proven rather distant, indeed. But that was part of what made travel in unknown places fun. Just like the times he'd spent bar-hopping in the Slums of Orone... heh, not that he lived there, no. He'd made sure to set home and business in a better part of the city. Much better than Orone's Slums. Yet even here, late on an autumn day by the calm of sea, he could still find risk, even if said risk was just a rude barmaid and dirty looks.

Even if said risk turned rougher.........

Sev hadn't intended to offend the barmaid. Her muttered words certainly indicated her feelings when it came to non-humans. Two, yes. He hadn't failed to note the entrance of a female naga (or someone of similar species), just as he hadn't failed to note the scent of blood coming from somewhere behind the bar, wafted to his nostrils by drifting air currents. Just as sure as he noted the Barbarian's aggressive posturing. And this other man's words in a language he didn't understand... no time to respond to this attempt at a friendly gesture, before said man vacated his just taken seat, the better to get clear of danger. Heh... so the bets were on, were they? But he'd received his dark ale, and was busy fetching payment out from a beltpouch, so he didn't immediately respond to the "challenge" until his gold was on the bar. He'd even left enough for a generous tip.

Sev sampled his dark ale. No, not the best he'd ever tasted, but perfectly good for its purpose. Then...

... "Evil sprite?" Sev returned a raised eyebrow of his own, though it didn't get anywhere near his hairline. The gesture looked quite strange on his three-eyed, dragonoid face... "My father is Seer of Rapse'tet... a Preacher." A flare of nostrils, a snort, a rub to muzzle... "If anything's evil here, it's your smell."

A deep sigh as he shook his head...

... "As for a challenge? I'd rather wait for morning, after breakfast. That way, time for rest, time to put affairs in order... time for you to bathe." Grin... "And since I'm the one being challenged..." Sev did give a nod to Douchebag, in recognition... "I do believe tradition gives me... gives us right to pick the means of challenge."

Yaaawn.........

... "As for being this man's foul pet... I live alone... run my own business. And I've never seen him anywhere before I came in here."

A gesture of mug about the tavern, before he took a larger "sample" of his drink, all without spilling a drop, his six-foot three frame still quite relaxed.........

[Lillix]

Bix the Kitchen Assistant, in the kitchen, briefly addressing Grim

The wooden larder door swung open to meet with a hard thud against the wall. As it gently swung back to close, what appeared to be a walking pile of vegetables chastised its return. “Ohhhh, no you don’t!”

Bix pressed her backside to the heavy board and shimmied her way into the kitchen. Hooking one of her small leather boots under the lower rung of a near, wobbly footstool, she awkwardly hopped her way across the kitchen to a counter, dragging the stool behind her, keeping her large sapphire-hued eyes glued to the pile goods precariously balanced in her arms.

Kicking the stool into place, she eyed Grim as she attempted to maintain her balance on the teetering step. “No, no, boss. I’ve got this. Noooo need to offer assistance. All under…oof, get back up there you runaway rutabaga…control…or my name’s not Bixalina Merchesta Buttonbeak Riverskipper Arwonaowen Raddishhabber…oh, horse-feathers… Spitfire Pidds!”

The gnome tossed the last of the vegetables onto the counter, one obviously not made for a creature of her small, 2’5” stature. Bix was short, even for a gnome. She was pretty, but not remarkable. None of which really seemed to phase her remotely. She brushed the earth from her faintly tan skin onto the dingy apron thankfully covering her lilac cotton skirt. Picking a few stray leaves attempting to stow away in her linen blouse, she made her way to the hearth; and, with one, fantastic jump, she pressed air from the great bellows with all her weight – all whooping 25 pounds of her – to rekindle the dying fire.

“There we are…warm and toasty!” Bix said with a satisfied clap of her hands. Everything’s ready, Elanor. …Elanor?” She glanced around the kitchen. “El? Oh, Elllll? …heeeey, El?!”

Bix pulled back her mahogany-brown waves to the base of her neck, holding them in place with a strip of leather. “Well, doesn’t that just beat all,” she huffed, her small hands resting on her hips as her brows knit. “Just walks out without a word edgewise! Bah…now what am I supposed to do? Peel until I can peel no more? Pish…”

The tip of her button nose twitched as the scent of garlic and fish enticed her to the table. “Oh my, what’s this?” Pulling her eyes up to look over the edge of the kitchen slab, she squeaked in delight at the sight of the food. “…on the other hand,” she said, hoisting herself up on the adjoining bench with an eager grin, “That means more for me!”

[Lillian Thorne]

Her pipe, her herbs, that was all that she wanted to occupy her mind as she moved with swift steps towards the kitchen. She'd had enough of rough barbarians, she'd had enough of stuck up douche-bags and she'd had way too much of unnatural non-human creatures cluttering up the bar with their musky stink. Her boss made her be nice to the freaks otherwise she'd have sent them packing.

Her skin crawled with the feel of those three eyes on her, she wondered if it was considering cooking her first, or maybe peeling her skin while she lifed and eating the flesh raw. She looked briefly back at it and decided it looked viscous and cruel enough for that.

That was a mistake because just then somehting, someone really came bursting out of the kitchen. The door took her full in the face and only the fact that she'd been looking at the freak spared her from a broken nose. Even so she wound up sprawled on the floor, stars in her eyes and skirts raised up well past he knees. She groaned and looked up at the boy who had caused the commotion and was now pleading for its life. She snarled at him but there was no heat behind it.

"Help me up!" she ordered, lifting her hand up though the sight of the scrawny boy about to help the substantial barmaid to her feel would be enough to give anyone who was witness to the sight quite a chuckle.