The door flies open and in steps a woman carrying a backpack and a long wrapped cloth. She curses as she gets inside, dripping wet. Her hair is tied back and flamelike, from dark red to orange to bright yellow. Her skin is a dark purplish-red and her eyes a piercing yellow - were it not for the fact that she lacks horns, you'd think her a Tiefling. She wears dark common clothes covered in both soot and rainwater and sturdy boots caked in mud.
As she enters, the fire genasi waves a hand over her hair and clothes, drying and cleaning herself off in a few short moments. She sighs loudly and goes to the bar, clearly exasperated.
"Hey, barkeep. Can I get an ale and a water? Thanks."Kindra chugs the ale but leaves the water untouched, then pays for both."I've never been around here. What's there to do that I can do with a roof over my head?"
A heavily armored Dwarven knight pulls a mug from the table, slightly shoving his helmet, and toasts the stranger before drinking heavily. His shield and sword at his side, laying up against the side of his chair. His mighty brown beard flows down from a bald head, and some of the froth from the ale remains when he finishes his drink.
His armor is mostly plain looking iron, except for a tree emblazoned on his shield and chest plate. A woven necklace with a green bead hands from his neck.
He laughs out loud, "People who pay their debts are people worth talking to! How are you on this terrible night?"
The fire Genasi chuckles and turns on her seat to lean on the bar before addressing the dwarf: “No work to do. Not much to make and little to make it with. Hopefully I can keep myself occupied.”
In response to Ricko, she replies: “Just finished a project and was on my way to deliver it. It was for some noble who wanted his sword custom-made. The floods started just as I reached here.”
She pauses for a second before reaching into her pack, sprinkling some seeds on the bar counter, and whistling. “Ashlar! Food time!” A small, soot-grey raven peeks out of Kindra’s backpack and hops up on the bar, cooing happily as he eats. Turning back to Ricko and the dwarf, she adds: “I’m Kindra, by the way. What about you two?”
The tavern door creaks open slowly and a shiny metallic head pokes halfway inside to look around with solid green glowing eyes before it retreats back out into the rain. Three full minutes pass before the door opens again and in steps a nearly seven foot tall creature forged almost completely out of polished iron with inlaid silver highlights, though you do see bundles of corded dark red wood in it's movable joints resembling it's musculature. It steps forward to the bar to stop before Ricko as it has done every night this week.
"[Statement] Lovely day is it not Ricko?
Standing at the bar facing away from the patrons, D.O.C. can be clearly seen chiseled delicately into the back of it's head by some local blacksmith or crafter. Below that at the base of it's neck you can distinctly make out G371 in perfectly precise numbers and letters in common. Turning away from the bar to face the tables, it's green eyes take in everyone and it puts a hand up in greetings.
"[Exclamation] Well met fellow tavern dwellers!" "[Statement] This one is named Doc." "[Query] Are your travels going well?"
No sooner than the warforged addresses everyone, than the door swings open a fourth time, and a something resembling a drowned rat staggers in. It stands for a moment and throws back its hood, revealing it to be a wood-elf, brown hair matted to a pensive face framed by wisps of facial hair. He sighs loudly, and sets a backpack and bow next to the door. Noticing a puddle forming around his boots, he calls to the halfling behind the bar.
"Uh, much obliged, ale would be good." The wood-elf makes his way towards the fire, with a mumbled "Excuse me" or "Sorry" as he navigates the tables and chairs, doing his best (and failing) to mitigate the amount of water distributed to the other patrons as he passes them. He drapes his cloak over a chair, and sits as close to the fire as possible, shivering as he slowly dries out.
A glorious smile upon his cheerful face, Baymen toasts everyone in the merry making, throwing a considerable amount of ale down his gullet. The meager earnings he's made of late are clearly best spent on a good night during a storm apparently.
He puts his helmet down by his sword and shield to make more room for the weary travelers. Standing he addresses those who asked him about his goings on.
"I am Sir Baymen Bronel, Knight of the Emerald Order. I am here to investigate the strange weather, and I figured I can investigate the rain from the window inside this tavern!" Then he lets out a hearty laugh, slaps his knee and spills some ale.
Kindra looks toward the newcomers, acknowledging them with a slight nod. She then turns back to Sir Bronel and sighs. "Well, I'm glad you're on the case."she says as she rests her head in her arms, lazily observing a fish-shaped bubble created by her shape water spell swim around in her water glass.
Doc turns back to Ricko, "[Objection] Rain alone can not harm this one as it would normal iron, fear not for my safety." At her question, he raises a shiny palm out in front of him,"[Statement] This one requires no sustenance for daily maintenance."
Watching the two scope out the bar, he steps back towards the table they are sitting at and raises a hand in a friendly wave, "[Query] This one noticed you are searching for someone in particular, this unit was given excellent memory capabilities, perhaps this one could assist in your search?"
A shaggy redhaired human enters the door, wearing his dark brown coat and green ascot. He scans the room, noticing the different folk in the crowd before his eyes linger on the bar. He steps over and lightly touches the bar as memories of full pints, singing and laughter echoed through his mind. Wiping the memories away, he smiles at the bartender. "Just a dark ale, please."
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I have an intelligence of six, I know what I'm doing.
Doc bows to the man in a gesture he has seen at some point of his short span of life. "[Statement] This one has a designation of Doc, given by a local resident of this town for helping him after he was kicked in the backside by one of his livestock. [Statement] This one stayed to help for the rest of the day to make sure his work was done after getting behind from being helpless on the ground for so long. [Statement] Human unit designated Carl called this one an outstanding dedicated caretaker, but said that he would arrange it to call this one Doc."
The Paladin, satisfied with his judgement and relieved at "Doc's" interaction, offers a mug toast to the new comers.
"Good Evening, glad to see you get out of the rain, friends."he pauses to pull his fingers through his beard,"I see you seem to be looking for something. If there's anything I can do, let me know. I am Sir Bronel, and this place has some of the best ale that I've certainly drank too much of." He chuckles a bit more at Doc's interaction and continues to drink.
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The door flies open and in steps a woman carrying a backpack and a long wrapped cloth. She curses as she gets inside, dripping wet. Her hair is tied back and flamelike, from dark red to orange to bright yellow. Her skin is a dark purplish-red and her eyes a piercing yellow - were it not for the fact that she lacks horns, you'd think her a Tiefling. She wears dark common clothes covered in both soot and rainwater and sturdy boots caked in mud.
As she enters, the fire genasi waves a hand over her hair and clothes, drying and cleaning herself off in a few short moments. She sighs loudly and goes to the bar, clearly exasperated.
"Hey, barkeep. Can I get an ale and a water? Thanks." Kindra chugs the ale but leaves the water untouched, then pays for both. "I've never been around here. What's there to do that I can do with a roof over my head?"
Aruzhal - Lv 1 Tempest Cleric - Planescape: Lost
A heavily armored Dwarven knight pulls a mug from the table, slightly shoving his helmet, and toasts the stranger before drinking heavily. His shield and sword at his side, laying up against the side of his chair. His mighty brown beard flows down from a bald head, and some of the froth from the ale remains when he finishes his drink.
His armor is mostly plain looking iron, except for a tree emblazoned on his shield and chest plate. A woven necklace with a green bead hands from his neck.
He laughs out loud, "People who pay their debts are people worth talking to! How are you on this terrible night?"
The fire Genasi chuckles and turns on her seat to lean on the bar before addressing the dwarf: “No work to do. Not much to make and little to make it with. Hopefully I can keep myself occupied.”
In response to Ricko, she replies: “Just finished a project and was on my way to deliver it. It was for some noble who wanted his sword custom-made. The floods started just as I reached here.”
She pauses for a second before reaching into her pack, sprinkling some seeds on the bar counter, and whistling. “Ashlar! Food time!” A small, soot-grey raven peeks out of Kindra’s backpack and hops up on the bar, cooing happily as he eats. Turning back to Ricko and the dwarf, she adds: “I’m Kindra, by the way. What about you two?”
Aruzhal - Lv 1 Tempest Cleric - Planescape: Lost
The tavern door creaks open slowly and a shiny metallic head pokes halfway inside to look around with solid green glowing eyes before it retreats back out into the rain. Three full minutes pass before the door opens again and in steps a nearly seven foot tall creature forged almost completely out of polished iron with inlaid silver highlights, though you do see bundles of corded dark red wood in it's movable joints resembling it's musculature. It steps forward to the bar to stop before Ricko as it has done every night this week.
"[Statement] Lovely day is it not Ricko?
Standing at the bar facing away from the patrons, D.O.C. can be clearly seen chiseled delicately into the back of it's head by some local blacksmith or crafter. Below that at the base of it's neck you can distinctly make out G371 in perfectly precise numbers and letters in common. Turning away from the bar to face the tables, it's green eyes take in everyone and it puts a hand up in greetings.
"[Exclamation] Well met fellow tavern dwellers!"
"[Statement] This one is named Doc."
"[Query] Are your travels going well?"
No sooner than the warforged addresses everyone, than the door swings open a fourth time, and a something resembling a drowned rat staggers in. It stands for a moment and throws back its hood, revealing it to be a wood-elf, brown hair matted to a pensive face framed by wisps of facial hair. He sighs loudly, and sets a backpack and bow next to the door. Noticing a puddle forming around his boots, he calls to the halfling behind the bar.
"Sorry! It's wet out there."
"Uh, much obliged, ale would be good." The wood-elf makes his way towards the fire, with a mumbled "Excuse me" or "Sorry" as he navigates the tables and chairs, doing his best (and failing) to mitigate the amount of water distributed to the other patrons as he passes them. He drapes his cloak over a chair, and sits as close to the fire as possible, shivering as he slowly dries out.
A glorious smile upon his cheerful face, Baymen toasts everyone in the merry making, throwing a considerable amount of ale down his gullet. The meager earnings he's made of late are clearly best spent on a good night during a storm apparently.
He puts his helmet down by his sword and shield to make more room for the weary travelers. Standing he addresses those who asked him about his goings on.
"I am Sir Baymen Bronel, Knight of the Emerald Order. I am here to investigate the strange weather, and I figured I can investigate the rain from the window inside this tavern!" Then he lets out a hearty laugh, slaps his knee and spills some ale.
Kindra looks toward the newcomers, acknowledging them with a slight nod. She then turns back to Sir Bronel and sighs. "Well, I'm glad you're on the case." she says as she rests her head in her arms, lazily observing a fish-shaped bubble created by her shape water spell swim around in her water glass.
Aruzhal - Lv 1 Tempest Cleric - Planescape: Lost
Sir Bronel spins around with a wide grind on his face, he might be a little drunk.
With a completely serious face, however, he lowers his voice and deepens his tone, "While I would like to tell you that the water is wet..."
He chuckles a bit at the stupid joke in between his words
"...I regret to say that, in a similar obviousness, all I've found is the wind is fierce and the thunderstorms are unrelenting."
His failure sours his mood a little. Still cheerful, but contemplative, the comment seems to have driven off the minor drunkenness displayed earlier.
The Paladin did his best to respond to Ricko, making a couple of comments in between the rambling...
"Indeed! The best we can do at the moment is wait and see. The storm continues on, the moment it stops, I intend to set out to stop the next."
...(after passive perception)...Sir Baymen is a knight, and feels duty bound to confront a threat. He's also fairly experienced at reading people.
He draws his drink to his face and sets his eyes over his brew. He looks at the intent of the mysterious characters.
Insight (High Wisdom\Proficient): 18
Doc turns back to Ricko, "[Objection] Rain alone can not harm this one as it would normal iron, fear not for my safety."
At her question, he raises a shiny palm out in front of him, "[Statement] This one requires no sustenance for daily maintenance."
Watching the two scope out the bar, he steps back towards the table they are sitting at and raises a hand in a friendly wave, "[Query] This one noticed you are searching for someone in particular, this unit was given excellent memory capabilities, perhaps this one could assist in your search?"
A shaggy redhaired human enters the door, wearing his dark brown coat and green ascot. He scans the room, noticing the different folk in the crowd before his eyes linger on the bar. He steps over and lightly touches the bar as memories of full pints, singing and laughter echoed through his mind. Wiping the memories away, he smiles at the bartender. "Just a dark ale, please."
I have an intelligence of six, I know what I'm doing.
Doc bows to the man in a gesture he has seen at some point of his short span of life.
"[Statement] This one has a designation of Doc, given by a local resident of this town for helping him after he was kicked in the backside by one of his livestock.
[Statement] This one stayed to help for the rest of the day to make sure his work was done after getting behind from being helpless on the ground for so long.
[Statement] Human unit designated Carl called this one an outstanding dedicated caretaker, but said that he would arrange it to call this one Doc."
The Paladin, satisfied with his judgement and relieved at "Doc's" interaction, offers a mug toast to the new comers.
"Good Evening, glad to see you get out of the rain, friends." he pauses to pull his fingers through his beard, "I see you seem to be looking for something. If there's anything I can do, let me know. I am Sir Bronel, and this place has some of the best ale that I've certainly drank too much of." He chuckles a bit more at Doc's interaction and continues to drink.