[center][h1][color=#318CE7]Campanella[/color][/h1]
[img]https://65.media.tumblr.com/09cf737d740a7f63d65609acb5083f06/tumblr_ng2nwflYzT1qkdofgo3_1280.jpg[/img]
Interacting with: [@Morose], [@sMoKe], [@BlueSky44]
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His sleep was surprisingly peaceful even in face of all of the life shattering revelations that loomed over his and roughly nine-thousand plus players' heads. Even though it was the next day, the pungent taste of the healing potion that could be likened to iodine still lingered on his tongue. It would most likely remain there for a few more hours and serve as a incessant reminder of last night's events. The hymn of blades. The ambiance of nocturnal wildlife. That shrill cry that was still singed into his memory. His taste buds gladly carried the duty of assuring that he didn't forget.

Campanella didn't make any visual sign of his internal muse. Instead the standoffish individual stared into the contents of the mug before him, a well of ale that the young adult had barely made a dent in. Being his first time getting a lick of alcohol, the experience was all too surreal. After taking in a few sips of the beverage the player came to a definite conclusion:

He couldn't drink it for shit.

[color=#318CE7][i]"How do people drink this? And for fun to boot?!"[/i][/color] It was then that his eyes fell upon Stone as he powered his way through drink "Number Whatever" without faltering in the slightest. And from Camp's book knowledge combined with what's he heard through the grapevine, the stuff the Russian was downing was far more intense than the beverage he couldn't even be considered nursing. [color=#318CE7][i]"...Did he get an alcohol resistance necklace as a drop?"[/i][/color] Needless to say the youth was chagrined. Then again Stone had Russian bias. Something that has plagued a myriad of tank-based MMO's. Campanella was undoubtedly out of his tier.

The atmosphere of the inn, or rather the town in its entirety, was tranquil. The fact that no other players were running over cobblestone with flailing arms and tears streaming down their face may have contributed to this. Merchants marketed their merchandise, kids skipped around without a care in the world, hell even the birds were indulging in relaxation. But as one would imagine, the sudden appearance of ten thousand "heroes" was a hot topic. And a handful of them were sitting aimlessly right in a certain inn. 

Stone had just taken his seat with another sacrificial beverage for his digital stomach in hand when Campanella light tap on his shoulder. Had he not climbed out of deep thought a minute prior, he may have not even noticed the faint gesture. It was Janelle who vied with his internal thoughts for his attention. He swiveled his vision to face the player and patiently waited as the girl attempted to bridge the verbal gap between them. The redhead’s mouth opened, conveying the struggle of manifesting words. Even somebody as laconic as Campanella could tell that she was putting a ton of effort into the endeavor. She managed a brief [color=bc8dbf]”Inn…”[/color] before she was unable to render anything else. Her eyes rested on the recipient of her message until the mousy girl scurried off, on a beeline for her room.

Being a man of few words, Campanella was used to extrapolating. Besides, he liked people who weren’t overly talkative. Perhaps they would get along just fine, well, they would have to as the swordsman soon found out. Starkette literally brought a notion to the table, the reality that was them being a guild. Frankly Campanella was planning on going solo, even after the GM announcement. But perhaps this route would prove to be fruitful. Maybe it would be the first step in combatting the mentality he has beared these past years. Stone seconded the statement, and chances are the Jace that was now scaling the stairwell probably would raise his glass in accord as well. So that left Campanella.

[color=#318CE7]”Here are a list of traders and traveling merchants I met before the GM announcement.”[/color] With a few swipes the names and complimentary list of wares appeared in the notes of his comrades. Trading houses and organizations obviously existed in this world, and connections were priceless. Camp glazed over the players with his gaze and then took the mug into his grip, [color=#318CE7]”As for the name, I personally like the ring of [i]Halcyon[/i].”[/color] The player got up from his seat and nodded his head towards the innkeeper’s desk, [color=#318CE7]”Going to grab something I can actually drink.”[/color] And so the youth split off from the table and rested his forearms on the desk. Since it was pretty obvious they were in an inn, the only other thing Janelle could have referred to was the keeper. He wasn’t angered by his inability to intake the beverage, but his ordinary complexion even gave the innkeeper a jump. [color=#318CE7]”Something a little milder please? I overestimated my tolerance.”[/color]