This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
A pale, silver-haired Elvish woman steps into the tavern, her outfit soaked through and her weariness plain on her face. She makes her way forward toward the fire, removing the pieces of padded leather armor that cover her dress, and setting them near the fire to dry. She keeps to herself, for the most part, and stands off to the side to not bother the strangers already gathered by the fireplace. Luckily, the leather had spared her dress from the worst of the water, and she could dry quickly. As she stands there, she listens around the room, hoping to pick up on any nearby rumors. The fire and warmth bring her comfort; the thought of home, and longed to return, to feel Dionades' arm around her waste as he pulls her from behind and they shared their precious time together.
But this lead, this opportunity. This was a chance to get back. To return to who she was before. And if she had to be apart from him in the meantime—however painful that may be—then so be it. She then listens in on the rest of the conversation by the fireplace, noting the curious little goblin and his red dragon pajamas. She had seen much in her lifetime, but this oddity was new. And there was just something odd about his demeanor... Well, odder; goblins were already a strange bunch.
Rolling perception. She's just generally looking for threats and listening for any rumors.
The goblin grins and runs over to his table where he had left his drum before returning to the gathering group. He drapes the leather sash connected to the drum over his chest and gives it a little experimental series of taps. The goblin stands up straight and launches into a little rhythm as he clears his throat, preparing himself.
"I am Komoi!" He says as his rhythm hits a fast crescendo before ending his drum performance and taking a quick bow. The goblin holds his hand out to the halfling expectantly, his bulbous head illuminated with a cheerful grin. "I don't play for free, either. How else will I make my very own dragon hoard?" He adds in a matter-of-fact tone.
Lucette looks at the small creature with a bemused expression. She thinks for a moment, and considers his words. How else will I make my very own dragon hoard? Such an interesting question. She pokes around in her backpack for a moment, and eventually pulls out a coin from a coinpurse, and places it in the Goblin's hand. Even if I'm not the one he was speaking to, I'm curious about this little creature.
The goblin's eyes light up as he sees the coin in his hand, giddy excitement visibly building within him. He seems to sober up suddenly, a critical eye staring at the coin. He studies one side first, then the other. Seemingly satisfied, he bites the coin twice, a pensive expression on his face. His grin returns once more as the coin passes whatever peculiar inspection the goblin had subjected it to before pocketing the coin.
"Thank you! Your coin will be added to my hoard. As soon as I have one." He nods quickly a few times before adjusting the strap of his drum and sitting back down in front of the fireplace. He places the drum between his crossed legs and sets to tapping out a quiet rhythm.
Warren looks quizzically at the chain of events. First of all: trained killers? Keeping the town in check? Mass murder? This was definitely more horrific than he initially thought. These people were not only barely living, surviving day-to-day, to be more apt. Who would be so dastardly as to kicking around a hamlet that was down, leaving them with less than they had? These questions are definitely intriguing. Questions to an important problem to look into on the morrow. While the exchanges were certainly lightening the mood, now would not be a time to be so jovial. The questions and curiosity surrounding Komoi were but an afterthought, as he turns to look Tamara in the eye.
"Should we pursue this problem? The hamlet looks half-dead as it is."
Warren's face of joviality had surely sunk into one of concern.
"We may not be able to solve it in one night, but the least we can do is gather information on the morrow."
Lucette listens to the goblin play, paying no mind to the man; ignoring his questions on the assumption that he wasn't referring to her. He said "we", after all - and she certainly didn't know him. Besides, these people did nothing but sneer and mock, and the tavern was, frankly, disgusting. The quiet rhythm of the drum lulling her, allowing the weariness to catch up as she slips into a daydream; half-fantasy, half memory of her past. And then the warmth of Dionades' touch on a cool night, overlooking the courtyard of his precious Library, and her mind returns to the present. Cold, alone, chased, and exhausted.
She approaches the woman from before, inquiring after room prices. Preferably something warm, secure, and solitary.
"well, I certainly never expected my first encounter with a Goblinkind to be friendly, let alone entertaining. Well done, good.... Uh.... Sir?"
Without hesitation Orryn flicks a single gold coin toward the goblin. He pauses for a moment, and takes a deep breath. His eyes scan the interior of the building. As his eyes pass by the windows he remembers the strange gashes in the buildings. He turns his attention to the group around the fire place, and with a brief moment of internal deliberation he speaks up.
"well, uh.. I am Orryn Nackel. It is nice to meet you all, however, I have become increasingly interested in the current state of the architecture in this little Hamlet. I am going to head to the bar and buy a meal and some ale, and try to pry some information out of the barmaid. Should you wish to join me, I will buy you a meal also.... Oh, and you can have the other 2/3 of my ale, if I ever get more than a half pint in, I get sloshed like you wouldn't believe. And, if that is the case, I am positive that I would not remember this enchanting evening... You know, Dwarves could out drink a horse, but us Gnomes we get buzzed just by being down wind of a stiff drink. I swear it."
Orryn bounds toward the bar, hoping that some company will follow. He curls his mustache back up and then climbs the bar stool like a tiny ladder, he kicks his legs and waits for service and company.
The large woman turns to Lucette, speaks again in her deep, gravely voice. "Ya want a room?" she asks. "One copper. If ya want a meal and a drink, two coppers. Additional two would get'cha free ale refills for the rest of the night."
The woman's body shifts in odd ways as she moves, like she was wearing a thick suit of gelatin over her body. Her stare seems to pierce straight through Lucette's gaze, as if they were made of daggers.
A young girl passes by about this time, wearing a simple white and tan dress with a black corset on-top. In this drab, dark place, she stands out like a daisy in a battlefield. Her soft cheekbones and smooth, supple cheeks frames her blonde hair and beautiful sapphire eyes perfectly.
Her head tilts low and she whispers soft apologies as she comes on by, bringing a flagon of ale and a ceramic plate of something dark and possibly burnt along its edges. The woman makes her way slowly by, brushing by the commoners and the tables before bumping into the man in drab clothes. A sharp gasp is let out, her right hand releases, and the plate comes crashing to the ground a few feet away from the lounge.
"ABIGAIL!" the bartender shouts. "THAT'S THE THIRD PLATE YOU DROPPED THIS WEEK!"
The young girl stammers back to the bartender, then leans over to quickly pick up the pieces. "I-I'm so sorry," she apologizes, her eyes now wavering. "I didn't mean to, honest."
"WORTHLESS HEAP OF MAGGOTS," the bartender growls again, before returning to wiping the bar.
To clarify, all party members see this happening. It's rather hard to miss.
Just after the newcomers arrived and while the well-mannered-goblin (for such a being) entertains the little group at the fireplace. Artos find himself captured by the darting, crackling flames within the fireplace. His gaze fix on them without blinking of the eyes. He starts to realize that all voices around him, the humanoid's joker with his drum, the concerned paladin, the curious elvish, the polite gnome, all voices and sounds, simply start to fade away from his consciousness, delivered at the very corner of his mind because in the very centre of it, of his focus...is the fire, his tempting flames, his amok power...Artos slew left, slowly, his head, keep focusing the flames, the outer world...is out of his attention, he is now wondering in that fire, something start to please him...and then....a scream, a sight, Sheever on his bed, all covered in fires, she desperately yell "Why? Why Artos? Tell me why?" . He feels his forearms and back scars hindered by bandages....bleeding and burn again...then...
The big-woman shouts
Waking-up him from his "dream"
He doesn't know exactly why but, Artos feels to do something. He moves mildly towards the young girl, with the most honest smile he could make. Artos kneels and starts collect some mug's pieces from the ground. "Not the best week of the day i guess Abigail eh? I am just arrived and notice that the hostilities are both outside and inside the inn this night...."
Lucette grimaces at the thought of the kind of quality she could expect from a room for a copper. But, she reminds herself, it is not like I have many other options. Though perhaps one of the ruined homes would prove more reliable. She sifts through her bag to find her coinpurse again, placing five coppers on the table. "I don't care for ale, but I would like your most comfortable, or failing that your most secure, room." Along with this, she accepts a basic meal and some water, choosing to eat by the fireplace in silence and continue to dry off before making her way to her room, to sleep.
"N-no," Abigail whispers to Artos. She sets down the ale as she picks up the broken shards alongside him. Her icy blue eyes glance occasionally to him as the two clean up the mess, scooping up all of the shards and placing them gently in the palms of her hands. It's no secret that this girl seems shy and withdrawn.
"Who... who are you?" she asks, as she rises up and throws away the pieces. Abigail then looks over to Komoi, calls out, "Y-your food will be ready soon! I just need to... uhm..."
Lucette:
The woman raises an eyebrow at the overpaid room. "We don't have much in t'erms of options here," she murmurs. "But I can make do." Her gaze then turns over to Abigail, shouts out at her again. "HEY ABIGAIL! Clean out 'yer room when you're done servin' those meals! The woman here just booked yours out!"
"W-what?" Abigail widens her eyes, looks to Lucette in utter shock. A moment of silence passes inside the tavern as she realizes what happens, and her head lowers respectfully. "O-okay Miss Beth..." Abigail then quickly shuffles away to the back for a new plate and the food.
Player Log [6/30/17] Cassandra (Lucette): -0.05 gp (Modest Lodging, Poor Meal)
Lucette rolls her eyes at the woman, a scowl forming on her face. "That will not be necessary. Give me the best you have that doesn't involve kicking someone else out of theirs." Still more tyranny, even amongst the desperate and destitute. How sickening. The Elvish woman crosses her arms, adamant that the girl should not be removed from her room, and makes a mental note to do what she can to overcome and oust this tyrant in the future.
Komoi stops his playing as his stomach rumbles once more. He looks left. He looks right. He glances down at his thumb. His stomach grumbles once more and with a shrug, the goblin begins to raise his thumb to his waiting mouth. Luckily for all involved, Abigail's call distracts the goblin from his chosen meal.
"Food? Right, this is a tavern there is food here." He lowers his hand back to rest on the drum in his lap, grinning broadly at the woman. "Is that my food? Perfect!" He stands up and marches over to the hunk of meat. He picks it up and brushes his hand over the surface once, as if this was enough to clean it off. He returns back to the fire and plops down before digging into the meat, using his hands and teeth to tear into it.
Abigail looks over to Lucette, pleads back to her. "No, no, it's... it's quite alright, um. I won't be long, it'll just take a few minutes." Beth at the bar rolls her eyes over however and crosses her arms over her chest. "Well if you don't want the room, you COULD take the den on the top floor. Abigail'll have to sweep around and clear out the cobwebs instead of her perfectly fine, clean room. And we'll have to move a bed up there."
"So which one ya want?"
Komoi:
Abigail returns back with a fresh flagon of ale and a plate of horse meat. It's slightly burned and charred at the edges, and Komoi can swear that when he looks away, it appears to be moving by itself. When he tears into it however, it's a bit salty, but overall not too bad. It's a decently nourishing meal for something that looks quite detestable. The warm burn of the ale seems to help with that.
After waiting a few moments, and seeing that the stool next to him is still empty, Orryn waits for an opportune time, and then in a polite and confident voice calls;
"Excuse me, barmaiden? Could I trouble you for a meal and a drink? Also do you have a room to spare for the evening?"
Beth the Bartender looks over to Orryn. Her piercing gaze looks him up and down, before speaking to him. "Meal's 2 copper, with a drink 1. We have HORSE meat to eat. Throw in an additional 2 coppers and ya get free refills for the rest of the night." She grabs a flagon from underneath the counter, sets it next to the barrel of ale ready to pour after his payment. Some of the dwarves grumble and murmur to the side, then slide down their empty mugs to refill up tall and frosty.
Abigail slips into the back to plate more food.
Totally sorry for missing you Orryn, thanks for pinging me again!
Heads up to all other players, if I DO miss a post, please do ping me OOC or IC so I can respond, thanks!
"That will suffice for my needs." When given the key, the Elf makes her way to her room to rest until the next day; studying the tome she carries and setting herself to doing what she can to clean the room and lesson the burden on the poor girl suffering under the tyrannical oaf of a woman. Could such a wretched place truly hold the secret to recovering what I've lost?
Orryn pauses only for a moment before considering that, perhaps, Horse meat is a delicacy to these people.
"Ah, I would be delighted to try the horse meat, but I better only order one ale... you know, gnomes as a general lot, are not great drinkers."
In the excited anticipation of putting some food and drink in his belly Orryn nearly forgets to ask the questions he came for initially.
"Oh, excuse me, barmaiden. Would you happen to know a young lady, last name Madin?"
It's all good. I was going to wait until there was some interaction, but I just happen to have the opportunity to pop on now. I really like the image of Orryn making this grand entrance and inviting a bunch of strangers to share a meal and then just like waiting awkwardly for a few minutes and then just giving up and ordering. haha.
It seems that even in these dour settings, there still seems to be conflict to be had among the denizens of this hamlet. This was indeed troublesome, as the best of humanity was whenever efforts were pooled together due to having a common cause, whereas the worst parts of history were when many stood divided out of prejudice, conflicting beliefs or perhaps racism or mistreatment of their fellow man. If anything was to change, it would have to be in the people first before real progress could be made. Looking upon this spectacle, Warren now truly grasped an idea of why the commoner indeed called this a hellhole. So much to do, so little time. Overhearing the price of the rooms, Warren pulled out 3 coppers and a silver. He looks between the two, not sure in his decision. After a moment of deliberation, he takes a deep breath, he pockets the 3 coppers, and walks to the bar, waiting his turn to be served and the silver tight in his hand.
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Orryns face turns pale as he spits his words out like awkward stones
"It speaks... And.... Its.... I mean uh, you're civilized. Do you have a name? Is that customary..."
He begins moving, enough to straighten his posture. His movements are still awkward like a clockwork toy
||PbP: Tarvyn's World... DM||
A pale, silver-haired Elvish woman steps into the tavern, her outfit soaked through and her weariness plain on her face. She makes her way forward toward the fire, removing the pieces of padded leather armor that cover her dress, and setting them near the fire to dry. She keeps to herself, for the most part, and stands off to the side to not bother the strangers already gathered by the fireplace. Luckily, the leather had spared her dress from the worst of the water, and she could dry quickly. As she stands there, she listens around the room, hoping to pick up on any nearby rumors. The fire and warmth bring her comfort; the thought of home, and longed to return, to feel Dionades' arm around her waste as he pulls her from behind and they shared their precious time together.
But this lead, this opportunity. This was a chance to get back. To return to who she was before. And if she had to be apart from him in the meantime—however painful that may be—then so be it. She then listens in on the rest of the conversation by the fireplace, noting the curious little goblin and his red dragon pajamas. She had seen much in her lifetime, but this oddity was new. And there was just something odd about his demeanor... Well, odder; goblins were already a strange bunch.
Rolling perception. She's just generally looking for threats and listening for any rumors.
Wisdom (Perception) Check: 8
The goblin grins and runs over to his table where he had left his drum before returning to the gathering group. He drapes the leather sash connected to the drum over his chest and gives it a little experimental series of taps. The goblin stands up straight and launches into a little rhythm as he clears his throat, preparing himself.
"I am Komoi!" He says as his rhythm hits a fast crescendo before ending his drum performance and taking a quick bow. The goblin holds his hand out to the halfling expectantly, his bulbous head illuminated with a cheerful grin. "I don't play for free, either. How else will I make my very own dragon hoard?" He adds in a matter-of-fact tone.
Lucette looks at the small creature with a bemused expression. She thinks for a moment, and considers his words. How else will I make my very own dragon hoard? Such an interesting question. She pokes around in her backpack for a moment, and eventually pulls out a coin from a coinpurse, and places it in the Goblin's hand. Even if I'm not the one he was speaking to, I'm curious about this little creature.
The goblin's eyes light up as he sees the coin in his hand, giddy excitement visibly building within him. He seems to sober up suddenly, a critical eye staring at the coin. He studies one side first, then the other. Seemingly satisfied, he bites the coin twice, a pensive expression on his face. His grin returns once more as the coin passes whatever peculiar inspection the goblin had subjected it to before pocketing the coin.
"Thank you! Your coin will be added to my hoard. As soon as I have one." He nods quickly a few times before adjusting the strap of his drum and sitting back down in front of the fireplace. He places the drum between his crossed legs and sets to tapping out a quiet rhythm.
Warren looks quizzically at the chain of events. First of all: trained killers? Keeping the town in check? Mass murder? This was definitely more horrific than he initially thought. These people were not only barely living, surviving day-to-day, to be more apt. Who would be so dastardly as to kicking around a hamlet that was down, leaving them with less than they had? These questions are definitely intriguing. Questions to an important problem to look into on the morrow. While the exchanges were certainly lightening the mood, now would not be a time to be so jovial. The questions and curiosity surrounding Komoi were but an afterthought, as he turns to look Tamara in the eye.
"Should we pursue this problem? The hamlet looks half-dead as it is."
Warren's face of joviality had surely sunk into one of concern.
"We may not be able to solve it in one night, but the least we can do is gather information on the morrow."
Lucette listens to the goblin play, paying no mind to the man; ignoring his questions on the assumption that he wasn't referring to her. He said "we", after all - and she certainly didn't know him. Besides, these people did nothing but sneer and mock, and the tavern was, frankly, disgusting. The quiet rhythm of the drum lulling her, allowing the weariness to catch up as she slips into a daydream; half-fantasy, half memory of her past. And then the warmth of Dionades' touch on a cool night, overlooking the courtyard of his precious Library, and her mind returns to the present. Cold, alone, chased, and exhausted.
She approaches the woman from before, inquiring after room prices. Preferably something warm, secure, and solitary.
"well, I certainly never expected my first encounter with a Goblinkind to be friendly, let alone entertaining. Well done, good.... Uh.... Sir?"
Without hesitation Orryn flicks a single gold coin toward the goblin. He pauses for a moment, and takes a deep breath. His eyes scan the interior of the building. As his eyes pass by the windows he remembers the strange gashes in the buildings. He turns his attention to the group around the fire place, and with a brief moment of internal deliberation he speaks up.
"well, uh.. I am Orryn Nackel. It is nice to meet you all, however, I have become increasingly interested in the current state of the architecture in this little Hamlet. I am going to head to the bar and buy a meal and some ale, and try to pry some information out of the barmaid. Should you wish to join me, I will buy you a meal also.... Oh, and you can have the other 2/3 of my ale, if I ever get more than a half pint in, I get sloshed like you wouldn't believe. And, if that is the case, I am positive that I would not remember this enchanting evening... You know, Dwarves could out drink a horse, but us Gnomes we get buzzed just by being down wind of a stiff drink. I swear it."
Orryn bounds toward the bar, hoping that some company will follow. He curls his mustache back up and then climbs the bar stool like a tiny ladder, he kicks his legs and waits for service and company.
||PbP: Tarvyn's World... DM||
The large woman turns to Lucette, speaks again in her deep, gravely voice. "Ya want a room?" she asks. "One copper. If ya want a meal and a drink, two coppers. Additional two would get'cha free ale refills for the rest of the night."
The woman's body shifts in odd ways as she moves, like she was wearing a thick suit of gelatin over her body. Her stare seems to pierce straight through Lucette's gaze, as if they were made of daggers.
A young girl passes by about this time, wearing a simple white and tan dress with a black corset on-top. In this drab, dark place, she stands out like a daisy in a battlefield. Her soft cheekbones and smooth, supple cheeks frames her blonde hair and beautiful sapphire eyes perfectly.
Her head tilts low and she whispers soft apologies as she comes on by, bringing a flagon of ale and a ceramic plate of something dark and possibly burnt along its edges. The woman makes her way slowly by, brushing by the commoners and the tables before bumping into the man in drab clothes. A sharp gasp is let out, her right hand releases, and the plate comes crashing to the ground a few feet away from the lounge.
"ABIGAIL!" the bartender shouts. "THAT'S THE THIRD PLATE YOU DROPPED THIS WEEK!"
The young girl stammers back to the bartender, then leans over to quickly pick up the pieces. "I-I'm so sorry," she apologizes, her eyes now wavering. "I didn't mean to, honest."
"WORTHLESS HEAP OF MAGGOTS," the bartender growls again, before returning to wiping the bar.
Just after the newcomers arrived and while the well-mannered-goblin (for such a being) entertains the little group at the fireplace. Artos find himself captured by the darting, crackling flames within the fireplace. His gaze fix on them without blinking of the eyes. He starts to realize that all voices around him, the humanoid's joker with his drum, the concerned paladin, the curious elvish, the polite gnome, all voices and sounds, simply start to fade away from his consciousness, delivered at the very corner of his mind because in the very centre of it, of his focus...is the fire, his tempting flames, his amok power...Artos slew left, slowly, his head, keep focusing the flames, the outer world...is out of his attention, he is now wondering in that fire, something start to please him...and then....a scream, a sight, Sheever on his bed, all covered in fires, she desperately yell "Why? Why Artos? Tell me why?" . He feels his forearms and back scars hindered by bandages....bleeding and burn again...then...
The big-woman shouts
Waking-up him from his "dream"
He doesn't know exactly why but, Artos feels to do something. He moves mildly towards the young girl, with the most honest smile he could make. Artos kneels and starts collect some mug's pieces from the ground. "Not the best week of the day i guess Abigail eh? I am just arrived and notice that the hostilities are both outside and inside the inn this night...."
Lucette grimaces at the thought of the kind of quality she could expect from a room for a copper. But, she reminds herself, it is not like I have many other options. Though perhaps one of the ruined homes would prove more reliable. She sifts through her bag to find her coinpurse again, placing five coppers on the table. "I don't care for ale, but I would like your most comfortable, or failing that your most secure, room." Along with this, she accepts a basic meal and some water, choosing to eat by the fireplace in silence and continue to dry off before making her way to her room, to sleep.
Artos:
"N-no," Abigail whispers to Artos. She sets down the ale as she picks up the broken shards alongside him. Her icy blue eyes glance occasionally to him as the two clean up the mess, scooping up all of the shards and placing them gently in the palms of her hands. It's no secret that this girl seems shy and withdrawn.
"Who... who are you?" she asks, as she rises up and throws away the pieces. Abigail then looks over to Komoi, calls out, "Y-your food will be ready soon! I just need to... uhm..."
Lucette:
The woman raises an eyebrow at the overpaid room. "We don't have much in t'erms of options here," she murmurs. "But I can make do." Her gaze then turns over to Abigail, shouts out at her again. "HEY ABIGAIL! Clean out 'yer room when you're done servin' those meals! The woman here just booked yours out!"
"W-what?" Abigail widens her eyes, looks to Lucette in utter shock. A moment of silence passes inside the tavern as she realizes what happens, and her head lowers respectfully. "O-okay Miss Beth..." Abigail then quickly shuffles away to the back for a new plate and the food.
[6/30/17] Cassandra (Lucette): -0.05 gp (Modest Lodging, Poor Meal)
Lucette rolls her eyes at the woman, a scowl forming on her face. "That will not be necessary. Give me the best you have that doesn't involve kicking someone else out of theirs." Still more tyranny, even amongst the desperate and destitute. How sickening. The Elvish woman crosses her arms, adamant that the girl should not be removed from her room, and makes a mental note to do what she can to overcome and oust this tyrant in the future.
Komoi stops his playing as his stomach rumbles once more. He looks left. He looks right. He glances down at his thumb. His stomach grumbles once more and with a shrug, the goblin begins to raise his thumb to his waiting mouth. Luckily for all involved, Abigail's call distracts the goblin from his chosen meal.
"Food? Right, this is a tavern there is food here." He lowers his hand back to rest on the drum in his lap, grinning broadly at the woman. "Is that my food? Perfect!" He stands up and marches over to the hunk of meat. He picks it up and brushes his hand over the surface once, as if this was enough to clean it off. He returns back to the fire and plops down before digging into the meat, using his hands and teeth to tear into it.
Lucette:
Abigail looks over to Lucette, pleads back to her. "No, no, it's... it's quite alright, um. I won't be long, it'll just take a few minutes." Beth at the bar rolls her eyes over however and crosses her arms over her chest. "Well if you don't want the room, you COULD take the den on the top floor. Abigail'll have to sweep around and clear out the cobwebs instead of her perfectly fine, clean room. And we'll have to move a bed up there."
"So which one ya want?"
Komoi:
Abigail returns back with a fresh flagon of ale and a plate of horse meat. It's slightly burned and charred at the edges, and Komoi can swear that when he looks away, it appears to be moving by itself. When he tears into it however, it's a bit salty, but overall not too bad. It's a decently nourishing meal for something that looks quite detestable. The warm burn of the ale seems to help with that.
After waiting a few moments, and seeing that the stool next to him is still empty, Orryn waits for an opportune time, and then in a polite and confident voice calls;
"Excuse me, barmaiden? Could I trouble you for a meal and a drink? Also do you have a room to spare for the evening?"
||PbP: Tarvyn's World... DM||
Orryn:
Beth the Bartender looks over to Orryn. Her piercing gaze looks him up and down, before speaking to him. "Meal's 2 copper, with a drink 1. We have HORSE meat to eat. Throw in an additional 2 coppers and ya get free refills for the rest of the night." She grabs a flagon from underneath the counter, sets it next to the barrel of ale ready to pour after his payment. Some of the dwarves grumble and murmur to the side, then slide down their empty mugs to refill up tall and frosty.
Abigail slips into the back to plate more food.
Heads up to all other players, if I DO miss a post, please do ping me OOC or IC so I can respond, thanks!
"That will suffice for my needs." When given the key, the Elf makes her way to her room to rest until the next day; studying the tome she carries and setting herself to doing what she can to clean the room and lesson the burden on the poor girl suffering under the tyrannical oaf of a woman. Could such a wretched place truly hold the secret to recovering what I've lost?
Orryn pauses only for a moment before considering that, perhaps, Horse meat is a delicacy to these people.
"Ah, I would be delighted to try the horse meat, but I better only order one ale... you know, gnomes as a general lot, are not great drinkers."
In the excited anticipation of putting some food and drink in his belly Orryn nearly forgets to ask the questions he came for initially.
"Oh, excuse me, barmaiden. Would you happen to know a young lady, last name Madin?"
It's all good. I was going to wait until there was some interaction, but I just happen to have the opportunity to pop on now. I really like the image of Orryn making this grand entrance and inviting a bunch of strangers to share a meal and then just like waiting awkwardly for a few minutes and then just giving up and ordering. haha.
||PbP: Tarvyn's World... DM||
It seems that even in these dour settings, there still seems to be conflict to be had among the denizens of this hamlet. This was indeed troublesome, as the best of humanity was whenever efforts were pooled together due to having a common cause, whereas the worst parts of history were when many stood divided out of prejudice, conflicting beliefs or perhaps racism or mistreatment of their fellow man. If anything was to change, it would have to be in the people first before real progress could be made. Looking upon this spectacle, Warren now truly grasped an idea of why the commoner indeed called this a hellhole. So much to do, so little time. Overhearing the price of the rooms, Warren pulled out 3 coppers and a silver. He looks between the two, not sure in his decision. After a moment of deliberation, he takes a deep breath, he pockets the 3 coppers, and walks to the bar, waiting his turn to be served and the silver tight in his hand.