XxFellsingxX — Roleplayer Guild

Great Bazaar, Market Ward, Sigil

@Lurking Krog @Abstract Proxy @Guardian Angel Haruki

The hag gestures towards the display cases in front of her, all filled with different types of ice cream. "My special recipe," she explains. "Each imbued with some of my own magic, to give other spell-casters a bit of edge in a fight." She gives a grin, revealing a gap in her teeth. "Oh and if my customers are to be believed, they taste pretty good too." She gives another cackle before turning her eyes towards Mariel. "Well, you can never be too careful in the Outlands. All sorts of things can be found there. It is connected to all the other Outer Planes, after all." She shrugs. "Plus, if this portal to Tradegate is here to stay, we gotta find ways to live with it." She then looks over each of the group as a whole. "So, what it'll be? Each scoop is normally one silver piece, but like I said, you gotta special deal today. Oh and they come in all different flavors, each costing the same."

Ubiquitous Wayfarer, Lower Ward, Sigil

@rush99999 @Fading Memory

Riaen raises an eyebrow. "Ah, another lot headed to the Outlands," she says, somewhat wearily. "Well at least, you're polite about it, which is more than I can say for some of the other folks I've had to deal with this week." She turns away for a moment to go get the group's order.

Once she's a little ways away, Ulgad leans over and whispers to Fyodor and Wynvere. "You two sure you're okay paying for this?" he asks, though probably not as softly and quietly as he was attempting. "I could give some money back if you'd like."

A minute or so later, Riaen returns with a pitcher and four glasses. As she's pouring the wine, she informs the group of the same thing that Zaraknyvr was told by the bouncer: there's a large barrel of wine down in the cellar which acts a portal to Revelhome, the most popular tavern in the gate-town of Ecstasy. "Madame Millani runs the place," Riaen tells the Bleakers. "Good sort, had a lot of good dealings with her, specially since this portal first showed up. Heard she's swift to take care of rowdy customers though, so take care not to piss her off."

"Skeptic?" Tabiah looks mildly amused by Zaraknyvr's description of her. "I suppose that is one word for what I am." She's taking another sip of her drink as Zaraknyvr asks her about the portal key, and with her free hand, she quickly produces a polished greenish-grey pebble and holds it up for he drow to see. Once she places her now nearly-empty glass back on the table, she speaks once more. "I wouldn't come here without it. While I do frequent this establishment, I rarely do so without a destination in mind, and I always make sure to come prepared. The staff so rarely have spare portal keys just on hand, not even Riaen." Tabiah nods her head over to where the tavern's proprietor is serving the Bleakers. As she does, her eyes hover over Fyodor and his group for a moment, likely also overhearing that they are headed the same way. She doesn't seem at all bothered by this. In fact, that same vaguely amused smile appears on her face again as she looks at them.

Former site of Tir na Og, the Outlands

@Digizel @Rune_Alchemist

Arndell handed the halfling a couple of gold pieces at Raella's request, which the halfling proceeds to look a for a moment before shrugging and pocketing them. As Arndell hurries to follow after his lady, the pair might just be able to hear the halfling muttering, "Well, this'll be interesting."

As Raella approached the tent, she quickly notices there are several smaller tents surrounding it, all obscured by the fog which seems to be growing thicker by the moment. In front of the main tent, there is a small campfire being set up by a few people who could be guards, though they don't seem particularly invested in their job. A bugbear man in a mud-stained cloak in trying to light the fire, but the fog seems to have rendered the materials damp enough that it is hindering his attempts. Sitting on a fallen log, a dwarf warrior is being tended to by a somewhat scrawny half-orc. Most of the dwarf's face seems to be swelling up, as if he has been stung by something, and the half-orc is attempting to apply some sort of salve. The dwarf looks less than grateful, cursing loudly every time the half-orc gets too close to him.

"Harmyr, I was barely even touching you that time," the half-orc says.

"You're breathing on me too much," the dwarf Harmyr shouts back. "I don't need your fussing, you hear?!"

A few feet away, a brass dragonborn woman dressed in animal furs is pacing back and forth. Unlike most dragonborn Raella has likely seen, this one has a tail and it's swishing back and forth like that of an agitated cat. Eventually, the bugbear calls over to her. "Fire's a no-go! Therlxora, mind actually doing something useful and giving a helping hand?" the bugbear asks. 

The dragonborn, Therlxora, does not cease her pacing. "I'm not wasting my fire just because you pansies can't handle uncooked meat!" she practically spits back. "Not when there's better things I could be using it for." As she's saying this, she seems to spot Raella heading their way and a nasty grin forms on her face. She quickly paces over to the girl, intercepting her so she's in between Raella and the camp. "What do you want?" she growls.

While his expression is hidden by his helmet, it's not difficult to see how giddy Vivir is made as Zyrech shows off his makeshift electrical attack, and he listens intently as Tanrith lists off the mechanical dragon's other abilities. Eventually, Vivir withdraws and returns to his spot next to Rhuk. "How come we don't make stuff like that in our forge?" he asks his companion.

Rhuk shrugs. "You're asking the wrong person, bud," they say. "Take it up with one of the blacksmiths, or heck even Pentar or one of the Doomlords."

"I'm not sure they'd go for it," Faelee interjects as she stands up back to her full height, taking a moment to dust the dirt off the bottom of her robe. "While they are always interested in new weapon designs, I find they tend to prefer things they can produce quickly and in bulk." She looks over to Tanrith. "I imagine it takes a good amount of time and precision to make something like that." When the kobold apologises to Sarceron, Faelee gives a chuckle. "Oh don't worry about his distaste. If it doesn't serve his sect or goddess, it very rarely interests him." While she is smiling and her words seem innocent enough, it doesn't take much for Tanrith to note there is a slight pointedness in what she just said towards the other firbolg. 

Sarceron must have noticed it too, because his jaw clenches slightly. However, if Faelee is trying to bait him into an argument, he doesn't take it, and simply address Tanrith. "If what you say is true and your machine does no harm to the environment, then I suppose I have no real problem with it," he says. While he did seem initially angry at the kobold when he approached them, it's obvious that Sarceron bears Tanrith and Zyrech no real ill will, and any hostility he is showing is not meant for either of them. Sarceron himself even seems to become aware of this once Tanrith apologised, and is trying to reel back his antagonism.
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