It is with little sound that Nine -While -Nine entered the establishment. He moved with a slow and careful gait, almost entirely shrouded in a long cloak of mottled greens and grays that seemed to shift like leaves in shadow. An ornately carved longbow stave in his black gloves hand, unstrung, being carefully carried as though it were an item of reverence. His quiver is full of a mismatch of arrows, fletched with the feathers of a dozen different species of birds and made of an equal number of different woods. His hood hangs over his face, but not quite far enough to hide the scarred black beak , and his cloak does not swing low enough to hide the tick of bare talons on the stone.
The Kenku walks slowly to the bar, and one hand holds out a handful of silver, while the pitted beak opens to issue forth the perfect whistle of a teakettle.
The cursed elf. He's edgey by the looks of it. Scarlet whispers to the dwarf while gesturing at the cursed elf. She walks over to the other elf looks at him to try and determine his age and says Hello my name is Scarlet, what's your favorite color? Oh and what's your name I sort of fell asleep. So I here that you are waiting for a friend. Are they also an elf? If so what kind? Are they hot? Am I talking to much again? I'm not good at stopping myself, sorry She takes a breath and notices the elves box. She says O nice box you got there what's in it? can I open it?
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"I want to pull out it's tongue so Timbity can use it as a whip."- W
Scarlet is a red haired wood elf. She is wearing a semi-formal red dress and her green cloak with silver lining. She has a beat up old scimitar at her side. She has dark green eyes and a feather in her hair. Her skin is well tanned.
"Very well." Vilindrimor says, grasping the gold coin in a loose fist. He opens his hand to reveal that the coin has disappeared. He sips his tea as he eyes the door intently, waiting for the arrival of the key needed to unlock his box.
Vilindrimor takes note of Scarlet. "My name is Vilindrimor, and as for my friend I've yet to meet him in person and I haven't bothered to inquire about his race."
Vilindrimor taps the box "If you could open it that would be great, but I'm afraid it's magically protected. Locked tight. You need a special key to open it." He eyes the box, rubbing it slightly "I'm not entirely sure what's inside, but we believe it may help relieve me of my curse."
At this point, Cloud rejoins the conversation. If you don't mind me asking, what is your curse? You don't have to answer if it's too personal, I'm just curious.
Afted brief confusion, Nine receives his tea and seats himself, he pours the tea from the cup provided into a shallow bowl he produces from his cloak, allowing him to dip his beak and savor the taste. After sitting quietly a bit he pulls a bundle from his back, a series of mismatched but finely balanced arrow shafts, which he begins fletching with practiced skill from a satchel of feathers.
Thekla is around, serving all the patrons. She really was confused for a second, but understood Nine's request, although she actually didn't quite understand what sort of tea he wanted. She put the different types of tea in front of him, so he could choose, after they settled on one, she smiled and went on to make the tea and served it promptly.
As each arrow is fletched, a small concert of bird calls rises from Nine’s table. Goose feathers are accompanied by low honking, owl by the hooting. The chorus continues as Nine
moves efficiently through his task, each completed arrow laid carefully next to a small pile of mixed arrowheads. As the work continues Nine’s impromptu concert seems to sound satisfied.
The Michtim with the purple cloak eyes the patrons intently. He seems to take particular interest in the Kenku's work. He perks his ears forward and listens to what kind of bird noises he makes. Using his penchant for Minor Illusion, he produces a similar sound of Owl-Hooting to applaud the bird-person's work.
Noting the bird call, Nine cocks his head intently, examining the Michtim with one dark eye. He is unfamiliar with the species, but what manner of interest he holds is unreadable in the blank stare. Unsure if he should respond, Nine nods slowly, and cracks open his beak to issue a sound like a dozen hands applauding loudly.
Vilindrimor ponders the question for a moment, then slowly answers "It's complicated. I learn new things about it every day, but the general theme seems to be it's weakening me and making me feel like an elderly human. Not really typical for an elf, no matter how old they get."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DMing: Adventures in (and around) Houndstooth | Sellswords on the Endless Plains
Cloud nods sympathetically. That sounds disorienting, at the least. I knew an elf named Kaia in my party while I was adventuring. We ran into a creature that was the physical incarnation of time, and it aged us all...a lot. She had a lot of trouble with it, since it took us practically to the point of death, and she was completely unused to even the idea of having those sorts of physical impediments for hundreds of years. She grins widely, showing two sharply pointed fangs. It was worth it, though.
A small sound escapes a leather satchel at Nine’s feet. Without looking, Nine reaches into a pocket of his cloak and produces some cheese. Breaking off a few portions , his hand dips into the satchel. The wide eyes of an oversized fox kit are briefly seen before he caresses the creature and closes the satchel.
as I final sit down at a table / with the wall to my back / you see a gray to blackish skin ( elf looking) / wearing a blackish grey cloak / gray with white streaks for hair after he pulls down his hood / orders a water and soup please
Before he can continue the door flickers open for a brief moment and a bird flies into the tavern and beelines for Vilindrimor's shoulder. The bird oddly whispers something into Vilindrimor's ear in what vaguely sounds like Common. A few nearby patrons are even able to pick up on some of the words. There appears to be some sort of issue with the arrival of the key.
"Ah, so that's how it's going to be." Vilindrimor says to the bird. "I see."
He wanders over to the door carrying the bird in his hand, he opens the door and sticks his hand out the door to let the bird fly away. Once the bird has fled, he shuts the door and walks back into the inn.
"I'll be seeing you all. I have a...erm...a problem to take care of."
Vilindrimor abruptly disappears from underneath his robes. They collapse to the ground and begin steaming, slowly evaporating.
"Well, that might have been one of the more interesting elves I have ever had the pleasure of knowing," says Yerandell. "But, we must not dwell on the past, only the future," he says with a smile.
What about the present? Scarlet says questionaly. You hear the ring of a bell. Scarlet pulls an object out of her pocket. Oh my I must return to my party! she says surprised while she starts packing her stuff up. I'll be back with coin to pay you with Thekla. I promise. She says while shes hurrying out the door. If I can Make some coin she thinks to herself.3
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"I want to pull out it's tongue so Timbity can use it as a whip."- W
Scarlet is a red haired wood elf. She is wearing a semi-formal red dress and her green cloak with silver lining. She has a beat up old scimitar at her side. She has dark green eyes and a feather in her hair. Her skin is well tanned.
One elf leaves, another one enters. This one nowhere near as cryptic, though. He slips in through the tavern's front door wearing a flamboyant hat, a loose, frilly white shirt, a mess of daggers sheathed in various holsters, a lute slung across his back, and a flute hanging gently from his neck by some cordage. He meanders over to a corner in the tavern and sets up shop, flicking his hat down in front of himself upside down ready to corral tips. He whips his lute around his torso and catches it before diving into a tune. After a brief instrumental intro he begins singing in Elvish to accompany his lute performance. To those that understand the language, the song is a folk tale about an Elven ranger from long ago.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DMing: Adventures in (and around) Houndstooth | Sellswords on the Endless Plains
As Nine fletched his arrows, his hood lifts at the tones of the lute, the words of the song. He does understand elvish, and as he had so often before, finds himself softly weeping that he cannot add his own voice to the song. He does not recognize the song or the accompaniment, but finds himself cracking his beak and from the Kenku’s throat issues the pure, haunting tones of an ancient Eladrin piece, written for the piping flute that his voice resembles. It is a piece that he used to hear often, and although it does not match precisely, it is a soft background to the elf musician’s song.
Nine-While-Nine is ignoring his arrows. He is lost to the music of his past, and the tears leave dark glistening steaks across dull black feathers on their way down his face.
The door swings open, and a tall human, face and body obscured by a blue cloak, stumbles in. His longsword is drawn, but he sheathes it (to the relief of more than a few patrons) after glancing around for only a moment, then draws his hood back. His short blond hair frames a face that would be handsome, but for a jagged red scar that traces a line from his right eye to his upper lip. He frowns, visibly confused, and his scar shifts from the movement.
"A tavern, here?" he mutters to himself. His hand stays near his scabbard.
It is with little sound that Nine -While -Nine entered the establishment. He moved with a slow and careful gait, almost entirely shrouded in a long cloak of mottled greens and grays that seemed to shift like leaves in shadow. An ornately carved longbow stave in his black gloves hand, unstrung, being carefully carried as though it were an item of reverence. His quiver is full of a mismatch of arrows, fletched with the feathers of a dozen different species of birds and made of an equal number of different woods. His hood hangs over his face, but not quite far enough to hide the scarred black beak , and his cloak does not swing low enough to hide the tick of bare talons on the stone.
The Kenku walks slowly to the bar, and one hand holds out a handful of silver, while the pitted beak opens to issue forth the perfect whistle of a teakettle.
The cursed elf. He's edgey by the looks of it. Scarlet whispers to the dwarf while gesturing at the cursed elf. She walks over to the other elf looks at him to try and determine his age and says Hello my name is Scarlet, what's your favorite color? Oh and what's your name I sort of fell asleep. So I here that you are waiting for a friend. Are they also an elf? If so what kind? Are they hot? Am I talking to much again? I'm not good at stopping myself, sorry She takes a breath and notices the elves box. She says O nice box you got there what's in it? can I open it?
"I want to pull out it's tongue so Timbity can use it as a whip."- W
Scarlet is a red haired wood elf. She is wearing a semi-formal red dress and her green cloak with silver lining. She has a beat up old scimitar at her side. She has dark green eyes and a feather in her hair. Her skin is well tanned.
"Very well." Vilindrimor says, grasping the gold coin in a loose fist. He opens his hand to reveal that the coin has disappeared. He sips his tea as he eyes the door intently, waiting for the arrival of the key needed to unlock his box.
Vilindrimor takes note of Scarlet. "My name is Vilindrimor, and as for my friend I've yet to meet him in person and I haven't bothered to inquire about his race."
Vilindrimor taps the box "If you could open it that would be great, but I'm afraid it's magically protected. Locked tight. You need a special key to open it." He eyes the box, rubbing it slightly "I'm not entirely sure what's inside, but we believe it may help relieve me of my curse."
DMing: Adventures in (and around) Houndstooth | Sellswords on the Endless Plains
Player in: Dark Omens
At this point, Cloud rejoins the conversation. If you don't mind me asking, what is your curse? You don't have to answer if it's too personal, I'm just curious.
Stella Diamant, Human Rogue 17 (Swashbuckler), The Exploits of Misfit Company
Kat, Medtech, Cyberpunk: Red
Shi, Changeling Bard 4 (College of Spirits), Tyrant's Grasp
Dani, Human Artificer 9 (Armorer), Skulls and Starships
DM, Project Point (Teams Scimitar and Longsword)
Everything Else!
Afted brief confusion, Nine receives his tea and seats himself, he pours the tea from the cup provided into a shallow bowl he produces from his cloak, allowing him to dip his beak and savor the taste. After sitting quietly a bit he pulls a bundle from his back, a series of mismatched but finely balanced arrow shafts, which he begins fletching with practiced skill from a satchel of feathers.
Thekla is around, serving all the patrons. She really was confused for a second, but understood Nine's request, although she actually didn't quite understand what sort of tea he wanted. She put the different types of tea in front of him, so he could choose, after they settled on one, she smiled and went on to make the tea and served it promptly.
Zev Georg Mir, creator of Michtim: Fluffy Adventures
Game Designer, Storyteller, UX Gamedev, Homebrewer, Michtim
Get Michtim For D&D
The Tavern (casual RP socializing) game: DM, feel free to join, but read rules in first post and post questions if you have any!
Tym Eisenfuchs: ambiguous Michtim Warlock
Click links to find out more!
As each arrow is fletched, a small concert of bird calls rises from Nine’s table. Goose feathers are accompanied by low honking, owl by the hooting. The chorus continues as Nine
moves efficiently through his task, each completed arrow laid carefully next to a small pile of mixed arrowheads. As the work continues Nine’s impromptu concert seems to sound satisfied.
The Michtim with the purple cloak eyes the patrons intently. He seems to take particular interest in the Kenku's work. He perks his ears forward and listens to what kind of bird noises he makes. Using his penchant for Minor Illusion, he produces a similar sound of Owl-Hooting to applaud the bird-person's work.
Zev Georg Mir, creator of Michtim: Fluffy Adventures
Game Designer, Storyteller, UX Gamedev, Homebrewer, Michtim
Get Michtim For D&D
The Tavern (casual RP socializing) game: DM, feel free to join, but read rules in first post and post questions if you have any!
Tym Eisenfuchs: ambiguous Michtim Warlock
Click links to find out more!
Noting the bird call, Nine cocks his head intently, examining the Michtim with one dark eye. He is unfamiliar with the species, but what manner of interest he holds is unreadable in the blank stare. Unsure if he should respond, Nine nods slowly, and cracks open his beak to issue a sound like a dozen hands applauding loudly.
Vilindrimor ponders the question for a moment, then slowly answers "It's complicated. I learn new things about it every day, but the general theme seems to be it's weakening me and making me feel like an elderly human. Not really typical for an elf, no matter how old they get."
DMing: Adventures in (and around) Houndstooth | Sellswords on the Endless Plains
Player in: Dark Omens
Cloud nods sympathetically. That sounds disorienting, at the least. I knew an elf named Kaia in my party while I was adventuring. We ran into a creature that was the physical incarnation of time, and it aged us all...a lot. She had a lot of trouble with it, since it took us practically to the point of death, and she was completely unused to even the idea of having those sorts of physical impediments for hundreds of years. She grins widely, showing two sharply pointed fangs. It was worth it, though.
Stella Diamant, Human Rogue 17 (Swashbuckler), The Exploits of Misfit Company
Kat, Medtech, Cyberpunk: Red
Shi, Changeling Bard 4 (College of Spirits), Tyrant's Grasp
Dani, Human Artificer 9 (Armorer), Skulls and Starships
DM, Project Point (Teams Scimitar and Longsword)
Everything Else!
A small sound escapes a leather satchel at Nine’s feet. Without looking, Nine reaches into a pocket of his cloak and produces some cheese. Breaking off a few portions , his hand dips into the satchel. The wide eyes of an oversized fox kit are briefly seen before he caresses the creature and closes the satchel.
as I final sit down at a table / with the wall to my back / you see a gray to blackish skin ( elf looking) / wearing a blackish grey cloak / gray with white streaks for hair after he pulls down his hood / orders a water and soup please
"I see" he says to Cloud.
Before he can continue the door flickers open for a brief moment and a bird flies into the tavern and beelines for Vilindrimor's shoulder. The bird oddly whispers something into Vilindrimor's ear in what vaguely sounds like Common. A few nearby patrons are even able to pick up on some of the words. There appears to be some sort of issue with the arrival of the key.
"Ah, so that's how it's going to be." Vilindrimor says to the bird. "I see."
He wanders over to the door carrying the bird in his hand, he opens the door and sticks his hand out the door to let the bird fly away. Once the bird has fled, he shuts the door and walks back into the inn.
"I'll be seeing you all. I have a...erm...a problem to take care of."
Vilindrimor abruptly disappears from underneath his robes. They collapse to the ground and begin steaming, slowly evaporating.
DMing: Adventures in (and around) Houndstooth | Sellswords on the Endless Plains
Player in: Dark Omens
"Well, that might have been one of the more interesting elves I have ever had the pleasure of knowing," says Yerandell. "But, we must not dwell on the past, only the future," he says with a smile.
What about the present? Scarlet says questionaly. You hear the ring of a bell. Scarlet pulls an object out of her pocket. Oh my I must return to my party! she says surprised while she starts packing her stuff up. I'll be back with coin to pay you with Thekla. I promise. She says while shes hurrying out the door. If I can Make some coin she thinks to herself.3
"I want to pull out it's tongue so Timbity can use it as a whip."- W
Scarlet is a red haired wood elf. She is wearing a semi-formal red dress and her green cloak with silver lining. She has a beat up old scimitar at her side. She has dark green eyes and a feather in her hair. Her skin is well tanned.
One elf leaves, another one enters. This one nowhere near as cryptic, though. He slips in through the tavern's front door wearing a flamboyant hat, a loose, frilly white shirt, a mess of daggers sheathed in various holsters, a lute slung across his back, and a flute hanging gently from his neck by some cordage. He meanders over to a corner in the tavern and sets up shop, flicking his hat down in front of himself upside down ready to corral tips. He whips his lute around his torso and catches it before diving into a tune. After a brief instrumental intro he begins singing in Elvish to accompany his lute performance. To those that understand the language, the song is a folk tale about an Elven ranger from long ago.
DMing: Adventures in (and around) Houndstooth | Sellswords on the Endless Plains
Player in: Dark Omens
As Nine fletched his arrows, his hood lifts at the tones of the lute, the words of the song. He does understand elvish, and as he had so often before, finds himself softly weeping that he cannot add his own voice to the song. He does not recognize the song or the accompaniment, but finds himself cracking his beak and from the Kenku’s throat issues the pure, haunting tones of an ancient Eladrin piece, written for the piping flute that his voice resembles. It is a piece that he used to hear often, and although it does not match precisely, it is a soft background to the elf musician’s song.
Nine-While-Nine is ignoring his arrows. He is lost to the music of his past, and the tears leave dark glistening steaks across dull black feathers on their way down his face.
The door swings open, and a tall human, face and body obscured by a blue cloak, stumbles in. His longsword is drawn, but he sheathes it (to the relief of more than a few patrons) after glancing around for only a moment, then draws his hood back. His short blond hair frames a face that would be handsome, but for a jagged red scar that traces a line from his right eye to his upper lip. He frowns, visibly confused, and his scar shifts from the movement.
"A tavern, here?" he mutters to himself. His hand stays near his scabbard.
And that's all I have to say about that.
Cloud walks over to the new human, giving a welcoming smile. No need for a sword, it's just a tavern. I'm Cloud, what's your name?
Stella Diamant, Human Rogue 17 (Swashbuckler), The Exploits of Misfit Company
Kat, Medtech, Cyberpunk: Red
Shi, Changeling Bard 4 (College of Spirits), Tyrant's Grasp
Dani, Human Artificer 9 (Armorer), Skulls and Starships
DM, Project Point (Teams Scimitar and Longsword)
Everything Else!