"Less of a ship and more of a boat. But the distinction doesn't really matter, since the storm beat it to hell and it's not seaworthy anymore. Name's Seldor. Nice to meet you."
Having initially been only half-listening to the conversation, the individual remarked to the greeting in a pavlovian conditioned reflex. "Likewise." - he said - "People call me Ve." A beat of silence elapsed, while the brain processed this previously only half-digested bit of information, and the cocked brow, that had since slowly lowered shot back up again as this time, the individual of Elven make had managed to grasp his full attention... Despite wanting to form words, they could not at the moment, and a few more instants of listless blinking passed, before the man, decidedly confused by the situation, made his choice. "Apologies, I'm a little tired so I don't think I quite caughtthat." - he explained, certain that the fault lied with him for not having listened properly - "Whose boat will this crew be sailing on?"
The longer he thought about it, the more he convinced himself that he'd misunderstood the conversation before him. So, before long, he added onto his mistaken assumption: "And where might it be headed?"
"You said your name was Thrash?" A thin and sinewy female asks. She turns to face the tabaxi with short cut dirty blonde hair piercing blue eyes. Her skin is tanned as can be with out being leathery. "I am not actively looking for someone, just hoping they are no dead. And yes I could use some work."
As the conversations continue Alex will finish off her drink in one last gulp. "Ve was it? No one is sailing anywhere in his bucket at this time." She stands from her seat and push her slight frame at 5 feet and 10 inch 150 or so pound between the men with ease. "You should ask to see your coffin before shoving off in it."
"The lass has a point," a deep gravelly voice crept up from behind Thrash. The gruff old man, despite being clad in vibrant colors, managed to escape any trailing eyes spotting him, and in an instant it seemed he was directly behind the feline. "But if ye think ye can handle 'er... The sea holds many-a worthy bounty in her craven belly. Can yer arms and legs stand against her ferocity?" He stepped over to the Dun-Aelle, Seldor and Varet, "And you're good with a bow? Good with a sword? Are ye good with a man-sized harpoon that's attached to a winch firin' at blisterin' speeds?" He stepped towards the dissheveled man, Ve, "Think ye can string a bit more luck about?" Turning to the girl, Alex, he continued, "I'll hire ye folks, and ye won't turn down my offer. Three hundred-fifty gold to each of ye's willin' ter help. Mind ye that few who travel with Abraham make it back. Willin' to make a wager with yer lives fer the coin?" He gauged the the party silently, while islanders shuffled in the background, making themselves scarce about the exchange in the center of the tavern.
Hearing the strange voice from behind her, Alex will spin around with a look of suprise and shock. She is not acustom to being supirsed. "Is the work on land, sea, or both? If on sea do you have a craft that is seaworthy? Is the coin avalible before the job is done?"
How big is this town? i.e. what type of supples are avalible?
Varet looks at the old man - Abraham, was it? - and at the group that seems to be forming around him, Seldor the unlucky fellow half-elf, Thrash the loud tabaxi, Ve the card-player, Alex the cautious human. I wonder if this group can work together, he asks himself internally. It seems we're going to find out, and let's face it, there's nothing else happening on this tiny little island and I'm not spending another three days - or three weeks - sitting drinking in a tavern.
Man-sized harpoon, did you say?he asks Abraham, raising his voice just a little to try to be heard above the growing back and forth of the conversation and the general noise of the busy tavern room. This is a hunt, then? What's the prey? In his mind, he goes over the possibilities - whales, sea monsters, pirates, smugglers, traders - all presenting different challenges, but nothing particularly objectionable to Varet. Three-hundred fifty gold would be very welcome indeed.
Thrash would look up to the ceiling and roll his shoulders at the sound of the captain speaking behind him before turning around. "I spent a lot of time hunting a variety of prey on the open ocean in the past... I am sure I can handle whatever you have planned for us... but if it is a dangerous as ya say... you mind making it a nice even four hundred gold a piece?" The tabaxi will say tossing his thick orange mane over his shoulder and shooting the captain a large toothy grin. "My new friends and I are the best crew you will find around these parts..." Thrash will say looking back to the others.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Another one had popped up. 'You should ask to see your coffin before shoving off on it ', she'd said. ... hadn't he just done that? And now that this wizened sailor had approached and offered a hefty sum, one he himself was tempted to consider, the only inquiry she made was the very question he did. And, at some point in between a fourth peculiar individual had joined the fray. Now two of them stood around with strangely pointy ears, besetting a tall cat-person, and now the only one who seemed a familiar shade of human was baffling, to say the least... There was no amount of raising a single eyebrow could do to display the confusion running through the individual's mind, at the moment.
But. All of that paled in comparison to this unusual sailor that called himself Abraham. It hadn't taken long to note that many seafaring folk revelled in ominous tales. Though, in his experience, normally they'd wait until after they'd gotten their hands on a crew to tell them. This was certainly an intriguing change of pace. There was a nonzero chance that whatever this was would end up being significantly underwhelming, but the old man had made an amusing point. Luck, was it? Reaching into his purse, Ve would pluck a singular, coin-like token and flip it in the air, before allowing it to fall into his palm and clasping his fingers around it. After sneaking a peek at the result, the token would be returned to the pouch, hidden by the individual's hand, at which point his eyes would shoot back upwards and size the old man up.
The words "My new friends and I are the best crew you will find around these parts" played on loop in Seldor's head for a minute. It was probably true, given the sort of people that were in this tavern, but did the Tabaxi not realize that this "best crew" had been assembled for all of thirty seconds? But it looked like they were also his only shot at making some money and possibly surviving. "The Tabaxi speaks true my friend! The five of us have never failed a single mission. We're good to hunt whatever beast you're after." A smirk began to creep along Seldor's face as he mentally noted that what he said was technically true.
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Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
Varet also notices that Seldor's words are all true, but suppresses his own smirk when he notices Seldor's; it wouldn't be a good idea if their new patron thought they were all laughing at him. Instead, Varet nods solemnly in agreement with Seldor, and waits to hear Abraham's response. He also looks around the room to see who else might be following their conversation.
Thrash would look over to Seldor with a nod and a wink before turning back to the captain. "What the man says isn't wrong... " The Tabaxi would say shifting his gaze back to the captain. "And by the looks of things, the other islanders don't seem to keen on taking you up on your offer.." Thrash will mention would pointing his wide furry chin towards the locals moving away from the discussion.
"Aye, a hunt it be. My nemesis do we face." He paced the floor a bit, measuring up the party even further. "You've moxy, cat," Abraham sorely spoke. "And gall. Three-fifty. Take it or leave it, son." He made his way towards the front of the tavern. "I'll not waste my breath anymore. Meet at my ship, the Paequot, at dusk. It'll be in harbor by then." He suddenly ripped his pipe from his mouth, turning it over quickly in his hand and slamming it down onto the table next to the door, leaving a neat pile of ash before whisking his way out of the tavern. You hear a tap-tap from behind you, and turn to see Scary Terry with several ales in his hand. "Not the first to venture on the Pequot... You're going to need these," he spoke almost worriedly. "Here, have it on the house - I insist!" He said, handing the drinks over to the party.
"Abraham was it," She says with a smirk "I think you have a crew. Motley as it may be, a crew non the less. What can you tell us bout yer job and boat?" As she settles back up to the bar now that there is something worth talking about. "Nother ale keep. We might be here a few more minutes."
(( There's no way for you to know that passively. This is the first you've ever seen the man. Your character needs to ask around to obtain that information. All knowledge in Meer, down to simply "where are we?" must be acquired naturally, in-game, by interacting with NPCs or the environment. Also, please message me directly or post in the OOC for questions and concerns. ))
"So Terry, who or what is this nemesis that the Captain speaks of? Is this a grudge that he's been holding for a while?" Seldor will ask the barman, hoping that Abraham is a frequent patron to the bar.
"Well... To be frank, we don't see him much. No one knows nothin' about him," Terry replied disappointedly. "Some years back, he hired a crew of some lads from 'round here. They never came back - and neither did Abraham, not for a whole year at least. When I asked him about the boys, he simply ordered another drink and packed that pipe o' his. I'm sorry, friends, but... You're on your own. He don't share nothin' with no one in what little time he spends at me bar."
Two, three, four... Wait, five?! What the?! Did these four just... A sigh escaped the man's nostrils. The group before him had signed him - a complete stranger - up to join them on a potentially life-threatening assignment without even asking. Everyone, short or tall, furred or weirdly hairless, had assumed and just run with it. If he was to be perfectly honest, the idea and thee man behind him had peaked his interest. But this happy, naïve lot who hadn't even concealed the grins across their faces when they lied about their capabilities to a man who told them some wouldn't be returning from this voyage they didn't even know the destination of... Sigh number two escaped him, this time out of his lips.
'I may be in more need of luck than anticipated...' - he thought to himself. As the third sigh in rapid succession exited his lungs, the man once again plucked the coin-like token from his purse and stared at it for a good few seconds, contemplating something in silence. After these short moments - which to him felt like an eternity - elapsed, the item was stored once again, and the first words out of his mouth finally emerged in what felt like a good long while: "Sod it." - he said, that original impish smile returning to tug at the corner of his lips - "What's the worst that can happen?"
"..."
"Keep the ales coming." - he added, this time facing 'Scary' Terry (whose moniker felt oddly ironic at the moment), motioning to the two glasses of Ale he'd already taken from among the freebies. - "You seem to know what this is about. Care to share with the class?"
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"Less of a ship and more of a boat. But the distinction doesn't really matter, since the storm beat it to hell and it's not seaworthy anymore. Name's Seldor. Nice to meet you."
Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
More
Having initially been only half-listening to the conversation, the individual remarked to the greeting in a pavlovian conditioned reflex. "Likewise." - he said - "People call me Ve." A beat of silence elapsed, while the brain processed this previously only half-digested bit of information, and the cocked brow, that had since slowly lowered shot back up again as this time, the individual of Elven make had managed to grasp his full attention... Despite wanting to form words, they could not at the moment, and a few more instants of listless blinking passed, before the man, decidedly confused by the situation, made his choice. "Apologies, I'm a little tired so I don't think I quite caught that." - he explained, certain that the fault lied with him for not having listened properly - "Whose boat will this crew be sailing on?"
The longer he thought about it, the more he convinced himself that he'd misunderstood the conversation before him. So, before long, he added onto his mistaken assumption: "And where might it be headed?"
"You said your name was Thrash?" A thin and sinewy female asks. She turns to face the tabaxi with short cut dirty blonde hair piercing blue eyes. Her skin is tanned as can be with out being leathery. "I am not actively looking for someone, just hoping they are no dead. And yes I could use some work."
Alexander Leatherer Ranger: Dragons of Autumn
Fenlamin Aloro Wizard: Journey Across The Planes
As the conversations continue Alex will finish off her drink in one last gulp. "Ve was it? No one is sailing anywhere in his bucket at this time." She stands from her seat and push her slight frame at 5 feet and 10 inch 150 or so pound between the men with ease. "You should ask to see your coffin before shoving off in it."
Alexander Leatherer Ranger: Dragons of Autumn
Fenlamin Aloro Wizard: Journey Across The Planes
"The lass has a point," a deep gravelly voice crept up from behind Thrash. The gruff old man, despite being clad in vibrant colors, managed to escape any trailing eyes spotting him, and in an instant it seemed he was directly behind the feline. "But if ye think ye can handle 'er... The sea holds many-a worthy bounty in her craven belly. Can yer arms and legs stand against her ferocity?" He stepped over to the Dun-Aelle, Seldor and Varet, "And you're good with a bow? Good with a sword? Are ye good with a man-sized harpoon that's attached to a winch firin' at blisterin' speeds?" He stepped towards the dissheveled man, Ve, "Think ye can string a bit more luck about?" Turning to the girl, Alex, he continued, "I'll hire ye folks, and ye won't turn down my offer. Three hundred-fifty gold to each of ye's willin' ter help. Mind ye that few who travel with Abraham make it back. Willin' to make a wager with yer lives fer the coin?" He gauged the the party silently, while islanders shuffled in the background, making themselves scarce about the exchange in the center of the tavern.
watch me streem gaem
Hearing the strange voice from behind her, Alex will spin around with a look of suprise and shock. She is not acustom to being supirsed. "Is the work on land, sea, or both? If on sea do you have a craft that is seaworthy? Is the coin avalible before the job is done?"
How big is this town? i.e. what type of supples are avalible?
Alexander Leatherer Ranger: Dragons of Autumn
Fenlamin Aloro Wizard: Journey Across The Planes
Varet looks at the old man - Abraham, was it? - and at the group that seems to be forming around him, Seldor the unlucky fellow half-elf, Thrash the loud tabaxi, Ve the card-player, Alex the cautious human. I wonder if this group can work together, he asks himself internally. It seems we're going to find out, and let's face it, there's nothing else happening on this tiny little island and I'm not spending another three days - or three weeks - sitting drinking in a tavern.
Man-sized harpoon, did you say? he asks Abraham, raising his voice just a little to try to be heard above the growing back and forth of the conversation and the general noise of the busy tavern room. This is a hunt, then? What's the prey? In his mind, he goes over the possibilities - whales, sea monsters, pirates, smugglers, traders - all presenting different challenges, but nothing particularly objectionable to Varet. Three-hundred fifty gold would be very welcome indeed.
Thrash would look up to the ceiling and roll his shoulders at the sound of the captain speaking behind him before turning around. "I spent a lot of time hunting a variety of prey on the open ocean in the past... I am sure I can handle whatever you have planned for us... but if it is a dangerous as ya say... you mind making it a nice even four hundred gold a piece?" The tabaxi will say tossing his thick orange mane over his shoulder and shooting the captain a large toothy grin. "My new friends and I are the best crew you will find around these parts..." Thrash will say looking back to the others.
Another one had popped up. 'You should ask to see your coffin before shoving off on it ', she'd said. ... hadn't he just done that? And now that this wizened sailor had approached and offered a hefty sum, one he himself was tempted to consider, the only inquiry she made was the very question he did. And, at some point in between a fourth peculiar individual had joined the fray. Now two of them stood around with strangely pointy ears, besetting a tall cat-person, and now the only one who seemed a familiar shade of human was baffling, to say the least... There was no amount of raising a single eyebrow could do to display the confusion running through the individual's mind, at the moment.
But. All of that paled in comparison to this unusual sailor that called himself Abraham. It hadn't taken long to note that many seafaring folk revelled in ominous tales. Though, in his experience, normally they'd wait until after they'd gotten their hands on a crew to tell them. This was certainly an intriguing change of pace. There was a nonzero chance that whatever this was would end up being significantly underwhelming, but the old man had made an amusing point. Luck, was it? Reaching into his purse, Ve would pluck a singular, coin-like token and flip it in the air, before allowing it to fall into his palm and clasping his fingers around it. After sneaking a peek at the result, the token would be returned to the pouch, hidden by the individual's hand, at which point his eyes would shoot back upwards and size the old man up.
((Insight check on Abraham: 7))
The words "My new friends and I are the best crew you will find around these parts" played on loop in Seldor's head for a minute. It was probably true, given the sort of people that were in this tavern, but did the Tabaxi not realize that this "best crew" had been assembled for all of thirty seconds? But it looked like they were also his only shot at making some money and possibly surviving. "The Tabaxi speaks true my friend! The five of us have never failed a single mission. We're good to hunt whatever beast you're after." A smirk began to creep along Seldor's face as he mentally noted that what he said was technically true.
Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
More
Varet also notices that Seldor's words are all true, but suppresses his own smirk when he notices Seldor's; it wouldn't be a good idea if their new patron thought they were all laughing at him. Instead, Varet nods solemnly in agreement with Seldor, and waits to hear Abraham's response. He also looks around the room to see who else might be following their conversation.
Thrash would look over to Seldor with a nod and a wink before turning back to the captain. "What the man says isn't wrong... " The Tabaxi would say shifting his gaze back to the captain. "And by the looks of things, the other islanders don't seem to keen on taking you up on your offer.." Thrash will mention would pointing his wide furry chin towards the locals moving away from the discussion.
"Aye, a hunt it be. My nemesis do we face." He paced the floor a bit, measuring up the party even further. "You've moxy, cat," Abraham sorely spoke. "And gall. Three-fifty. Take it or leave it, son." He made his way towards the front of the tavern. "I'll not waste my breath anymore. Meet at my ship, the Paequot, at dusk. It'll be in harbor by then." He suddenly ripped his pipe from his mouth, turning it over quickly in his hand and slamming it down onto the table next to the door, leaving a neat pile of ash before whisking his way out of the tavern. You hear a tap-tap from behind you, and turn to see Scary Terry with several ales in his hand. "Not the first to venture on the Pequot... You're going to need these," he spoke almost worriedly. "Here, have it on the house - I insist!" He said, handing the drinks over to the party.
https://soundcloud.com/cullenatoriscool/abraham-gives-the-job
watch me streem gaem
"Abraham was it," She says with a smirk "I think you have a crew. Motley as it may be, a crew non the less. What can you tell us bout yer job and boat?" As she settles back up to the bar now that there is something worth talking about. "Nother ale keep. We might be here a few more minutes."
Alexander Leatherer Ranger: Dragons of Autumn
Fenlamin Aloro Wizard: Journey Across The Planes
As if ignoring you entirely, Abraham continued his speech and made his way out the door. How rude.
watch me streem gaem
How well is Captain Abraham known here? Would other people know who his nemesis is?
Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
More
(( There's no way for you to know that passively. This is the first you've ever seen the man. Your character needs to ask around to obtain that information. All knowledge in Meer, down to simply "where are we?" must be acquired naturally, in-game, by interacting with NPCs or the environment. Also, please message me directly or post in the OOC for questions and concerns. ))
watch me streem gaem
"So Terry, who or what is this nemesis that the Captain speaks of? Is this a grudge that he's been holding for a while?" Seldor will ask the barman, hoping that Abraham is a frequent patron to the bar.
Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
More
"Well... To be frank, we don't see him much. No one knows nothin' about him," Terry replied disappointedly. "Some years back, he hired a crew of some lads from 'round here. They never came back - and neither did Abraham, not for a whole year at least. When I asked him about the boys, he simply ordered another drink and packed that pipe o' his. I'm sorry, friends, but... You're on your own. He don't share nothin' with no one in what little time he spends at me bar."
watch me streem gaem
Two, three, four... Wait, five?! What the?! Did these four just... A sigh escaped the man's nostrils. The group before him had signed him - a complete stranger - up to join them on a potentially life-threatening assignment without even asking. Everyone, short or tall, furred or weirdly hairless, had assumed and just run with it. If he was to be perfectly honest, the idea and thee man behind him had peaked his interest. But this happy, naïve lot who hadn't even concealed the grins across their faces when they lied about their capabilities to a man who told them some wouldn't be returning from this voyage they didn't even know the destination of... Sigh number two escaped him, this time out of his lips.
'I may be in more need of luck than anticipated...' - he thought to himself. As the third sigh in rapid succession exited his lungs, the man once again plucked the coin-like token from his purse and stared at it for a good few seconds, contemplating something in silence. After these short moments - which to him felt like an eternity - elapsed, the item was stored once again, and the first words out of his mouth finally emerged in what felt like a good long while: "Sod it." - he said, that original impish smile returning to tug at the corner of his lips - "What's the worst that can happen?"
"..."
"Keep the ales coming." - he added, this time facing 'Scary' Terry (whose moniker felt oddly ironic at the moment), motioning to the two glasses of Ale he'd already taken from among the freebies. - "You seem to know what this is about. Care to share with the class?"