Quote from nonamedndplayer >>

Emerging from the shadow-draped sanctum of The Falling Goat's most secluded chamber, the Rhinemaiden—her visage a tempest of secrets tangled in wild curls—made a sinister entrance. A stark bruise, unsettling in its prominence, marred her ethereal appearance, adding a dark undertone to the enigmatic aura swirling around her. The echo of her whispered lineage with the enigmatic noblewoman lingered like a ghostly presence, veiled in secrecy.

In her grasp, Molly clutched a bottle of the tavern’s finest vintage, its seal stubborn and defiant. She thrust it towards Gotu with a gesture of vexed impatience. "Gotu, make dies open; it's verschlossen too tightly," she demanded, her frustration boiling over like a witch's brew. "I can't lösen es."

Her words unfurled into a whirlwind of urgency and madness, cryptic yet laden with dark intent. "There's a Schlüssel, this little one muss finden. It's most lebenswichtig; do you verstehen, sweet Junge?"

Drawing closer to Gotu, she lowered her voice to a whisper, sinister and melodious. Her plea became a dark chant, fraught with shadows. "Alas, poor Biscotti! I kannte ihn, Gotu. A fellow of infinite Jest, von most excellent fancy. He hath getragen me on his back tausend times. And now, how abhorred in my imagination it is! Mein gorge rises at it. Here hingen those lips that I have geküsst I know not how oft. Where be your gibes jetzt? your gambols? deine songs? your flashes von merriment that were gewohnt to set the table on a roar? Nicht one now, to mock your own grinning? Quite chap-fall'n? Jetzt get you to my mutter's chamber, und tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favor she must come. Make her laugh at das."

The Rhinemaiden leaned in, her whisper thick with menacing overtones. "Vielleicht sollten we dig up Biscotti, to ensure sein corpse doesn't hold the schlüssel auf ihm."

As she confided this ominous suggestion, Molly shifted her tone, her gaze sharpening with dark urgency. "Eins more Ding, Gotu," she murmured, her eyes briefly flicking toward the tavern's shadowed rear. "Der müll must be taken out. Im backroom, eine wirtshausmädchen liegt, drained and leblos. I swear, es war not by meiner hand."

Those words, draped in ominous tones, thickened the air with a scent of mystery and impending dread. Molly's gaze impelled Gotu, demanding action, her command hanging in the charged atmosphere of the tavern like a spell cast, beckoning the earth to surrender its secrets and the shadows to reveal their whispers.

Quote from Oddlot >>

Quote from nonamedndplayer >>

Gotu sighs tiredly as he drags his feet to the bar, ordering the cheap booze while he pays attention to his fellow thieves.

Emerging from the shadow-draped sanctum of The Falling Goat's most secluded chamber, the Rhinemaiden—her visage a tempest of secrets tangled in wild curls—made a sinister entrance. A stark bruise, unsettling in its prominence, marred her ethereal appearance, adding a dark undertone to the enigmatic aura swirling around her. The echo of her whispered lineage with the enigmatic noblewoman lingered like a ghostly presence, veiled in secrecy.

In her grasp, Molly clutched a bottle of the tavern’s finest vintage, its seal stubborn and defiant. She thrust it towards Gotu with a gesture of vexed impatience. "Gotu, make dies open; it's verschlossen too tightly," she demanded, her frustration boiling over like a witch's brew. "I can't lösen es."

Her words unfurled into a whirlwind of urgency and madness, cryptic yet laden with dark intent. "There's a Schlüssel, this little one muss finden. It's most lebenswichtig; do you verstehen, sweet Junge?"

Drawing closer to Gotu, she lowered her voice to a whisper, sinister and melodious. Her plea became a dark chant, fraught with shadows. "Alas, poor Biscotti! I kannte ihn, Gotu. A fellow of infinite Jest, von most excellent fancy. He hath getragen me on his back tausend times. And now, how abhorred in my imagination it is! Mein gorge rises at it. Here hingen those lips that I have geküsst I know not how oft. Where be your gibes jetzt? your gambols? deine songs? your flashes von merriment that were gewohnt to set the table on a roar? Nicht one now, to mock your own grinning? Quite chap-fall'n? Jetzt get you to my mutter's chamber, und tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favor she must come. Make her laugh at das."

The Rhinemaiden leaned in, her whisper thick with menacing overtones. "Vielleicht sollten we dig up Biscotti, to ensure sein corpse doesn't hold the schlüssel auf ihm."

As she confided this ominous suggestion, Molly shifted her tone, her gaze sharpening with dark urgency. "Eins more Ding, Gotu," she murmured, her eyes briefly flicking toward the tavern's shadowed rear. "Der müll must be taken out. Im backroom, eine wirtshausmädchen liegt, drained and leblos. I swear, es war not by meiner hand."

Those words, draped in ominous tones, thickened the air with a scent of mystery and impending dread. Molly's gaze impelled Gotu, demanding action, her command hanging in the charged atmosphere of the tavern like a spell cast, beckoning the earth to surrender its secrets and the shadows to reveal their whispers.

 Gotu stares blankly at Molly, then takes the bottle and pulls out his Small Knife. He uses it to tap the bottle neck twice, then the body of the bottle the same number of times, before slicing the top of the bottle at an angle, causing it to break. At the same time, he cast Prestidigitation to erase the glass shards from going inside the bottle.

"Here." He hand Molly the bottle as he put away his Small Knife.

Quote from Brian_Avery >>

The tiefling reluctantly stands but starts dragging his feet when you try to get him up on stage, "I'm not volunteering you fool! Find someone else!"

 ((ohhh okay! Thank you for explaining. lol wow I made a really weak spellcaster. spent the stats on stealth hehe))

"Ah, yes, very well." Asbestos lets his grip on the tiefling go, not before twirling around him some more, the handkerchief string floating along delicately in the air. He produces a set of playing cards in front of the guy anyways, declaring "Take a card, any card!"

"Now show it to the audience. I will not look!" And he obliges to his own command, shutting his eyes tight. When the tiefling returned the card to the pile, Asbestos shuffled the deck quick.

He leapt onto the stage by himself, dragging alongside him the handkerchiefs in fabulous fashion. "I will do the trick myself!" The changeling wiggled his fingers in front of the audience, "The Great Tangerini wishes to dazzle you. Her magic is for show, yes, but no less fantastic!" He tied the handkerchief around his own eyes, grinning wide at the taverngoers as he haughtily strutted across the stage. In a slow drag, he takes out two daggers from his pocket and begins to juggle with them. "Ha ha!" 

To up the ante, he begins to go faster. The shine of the daggers against the fires of the lantern-lit tavern show no mercy as it becomes a near-blinding display. In the midst of it he tosses up the playing cards, and in the same sleight of hand, throws one of the daggers. "Let's see... if this works!"  

The dagger then pierces through one of the deck cards. One lone joker of clovers is left pinned up against the wall while the others fall gracefully to the ground. Without lifting up his make-shift blindfold, he hops down the stage towards the backwall, aimlessly patting down the wall until he got it in his second go. Enthusiastically, he wrenches the dagger out of the card and shows it to the audience.

"Was this your card?!"

((Dexterity: sleight of hand: 13 + 3 = 16.

IT WOULD BE REAL FUNNY IF IT WASN'T. also he is sort of asking for either money or cheers from the audience. idk he just likes a show

Charisma: Performance 10 + 2 = 12 ahhh well he tried))

Quote from Brian_Avery >>

 

...@Lace

Xalette would be a sure a thing (and up to you if it's the 1st time with her or you are returning to an old favorite), or you could take a chance on trying to pick up someone.

 As Xalette would be an old favorite, she'd know that the Red Camillia Lace gives her means "You’re a flame in my heart".

"Hello dear.  Are you busy for a while?"

@Molly

The shadows are slightly darker in your area the air as cool as the dead of night.

@Gotu

Opening the bottle draws a few eyes of those nearby as they thought there might be the chance of free drink from a shared bottle.

@Asbestos

Your juggling is impeccable but the overall show fails to amaze. Many have seen these things before and will applaud anyone who doesn't drop anything while juggling. Some of those nearby are slightly more impressed by the selection of the card with a dagger.

@Lace

"Tonight?... for you?... I would make myself available,... very available." and Xalette will take your hand and lift it over her head and back down on the other side of her, wrapping herself in your embrace like an anaconda squeezing it's victim. (she is giving consent to you, and choose where you drape your arm on her body)

Lace will pull her aside, and lead her to the place they usually do the deed.  Bedroom, backroom, whichever.  

Lace has a darn good reason women would make themselves available and "Fade to black" until they emerge later with large smiles on their faces.  Unless you want more of a play by play to keep in time with the other events going on.

Wit' a lil' help from Smit'y of all people, Fist keeps te witl'ss fool's trap shut. Te first's easy 'nuff. He twists the blighter's thumb all 'round, soft pops comin' as the bones snap. Te next is the lil' worm's first finger. It comes wit' a warnin' as the brute b'nds it as far back as it can go -- an' then a lil' furth'r:

"Ye paid fer the drink, boyo. But ye gave me nothin'. Bad move, lad. Piss poor thinkin'."

He pats the d'vastated lil' rat on the cheek: "But, I like ya, so I'll give ye an'ther chance, ken? Go out, c'llect m'dues. Do it righ', boyo, and ye get enough to see a cl'ric 'bout this..." He fl'cks one of the purple fingers. "Ken?"

"Go." His word's cold as th' grave.

[Athletics w/advantage, rolled on character sheet: 23]

Smithy moves a bit closer to Fist, 

"next time take it outside will ya, easier to do it less suspicious" with a little pad on the back before moving along, ale in hand. 

Quote from Secretfool >>

Smithy moves a bit closer to Fist, 

"next time take it outside will ya, easier to do it less suspicious" with a little pad on the back before moving along, ale in hand. 

 "Ach! Ye worry too much, lad! Oi, bar'boy!"

'Is big me'ty hand waves o'r te barman.

@Fist

Garth edges over and leans closer, "Something to drink?"

"Aye, a few somethin's, wit some work for yer bargals. Ya see..."

He don't see eit'er of te changelin's, wh'ch bodes bad. He don't see Lace neither. O' he knows wh're she is, he jus' don't see her. Heh. Hehe. He spots Gotu lookin' m'serable. He ha' a plan fer tha'. The nutty 'un looks content, drinkin'... te Hells is tha'? Nah, y'know wha'? Don't wanna know. 'Dere's sweet lil' number on te table doin' tricks. He can show her a trick o' his own in a bit... heh. Anyhoo!

"...Alright, 'im, 'im, 'n 'im." He p'ints to Gotu, Smit'y, an' te Cat. Dem boys need te relax. He drops sev'ral gold bits on te table. "Hit 'em wit Crawlers. Gimme n' te tall 'un o'r 'dere some ale." He p'ints to Zeren.

[How much, so I can reduce from my total?]

2 silver for 4 Crawlers.

As the shadows gathered, a chill descended around her, enveloping her in a cloak that seemed as thick as the dead of night itself. Her eyes, gleaming with an eerie luminescence, watched intently as Gotu expertly manipulated the bottle with his blade. The ritual of tapping and slicing, performed with a deft precision that bordered on the arcane, drew a subtle arch of her brow in intrigued appreciation.

"Ah, Gotu, so skilled bist du with your little Messer," Molly murmured, her words weaving through the shadows around her. "Du hast this well gemacht," she continued, accepting the now-open bottle with a flourish of her pale hand. "Here, in the Umarmung of these darker Schatten, your talent truly shines as the Klinge you wield."

She tilted the bottle, examining it in the dim light, her expression one of macabre delight. "Dieser blood wine, so finely geöffnet, shall taste even sweeter in the kühle Umarmung of death's Nacht." Molly’s gaze then swept across the tavern, taking in the muted reactions of the other patrons, their interest piqued by the possibility of a shared libation yet bound by the customary distance of mere acquaintances.

Turning back to Gotu, she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper that was almost lost amidst the ambient clatter of the tavern. "But, dear Gotu, while the Wein flows und the Schatten dance, there ist another matter that heavily on meine Seele weighs." Her eyes flickered with a dangerous gleam. Molly's presence, as enigmatic und unpredictable as the shifting shadows, promised that the night's intrigue was far from over, its depths as profound and mysterious as the darkened corners of The Falling Goat.

Quote from Oddlot >>

As the shadows gathered, a chill descended around her, enveloping her in a cloak that seemed as thick as the dead of night itself. Her eyes, gleaming with an eerie luminescence, watched intently as Gotu expertly manipulated the bottle with his blade. The ritual of tapping and slicing, performed with a deft precision that bordered on the arcane, drew a subtle arch of her brow in intrigued appreciation.

"Ah, Gotu, so skilled bist du with your little Messer," Molly murmured, her words weaving through the shadows around her. "Du hast this well gemacht," she continued, accepting the now-open bottle with a flourish of her pale hand. "Here, in the Umarmung of these darker Schatten, your talent truly shines as the Klinge you wield."

She tilted the bottle, examining it in the dim light, her expression one of macabre delight. "Dieser blood wine, so finely geöffnet, shall taste even sweeter in the kühle Umarmung of death's Nacht." Molly’s gaze then swept across the tavern, taking in the muted reactions of the other patrons, their interest piqued by the possibility of a shared libation yet bound by the customary distance of mere acquaintances.

Turning back to Gotu, she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper that was almost lost amidst the ambient clatter of the tavern. "But, dear Gotu, while the Wein flows und the Schatten dance, there ist another matter that heavily on meine Seele weighs." Her eyes flickered with a dangerous gleam. Molly's presence, as enigmatic und unpredictable as the shifting shadows, promised that the night's intrigue was far from over, its depths as profound and mysterious as the darkened corners of The Falling Goat.

 Gotu flicks Molly's forehead, "Enjoy your dang drink." Then he glared at those who thought he would share them with Molly's drink, nearly casting Fire Bolt at them.

He looks around for any thieves from a rival guild that is now watching their moves now that their leader is gone.

Perception Check: 6

Smithy accepts the crawler Fist payed for and looks around. He walks towards Gotu, who seemingly looks worried. 

"Hey Gotu how you doing this night? Crazy, or can I say, scary, isn't it? Anything I can help with?" he asks looking around aswell. 

Quote from Brian_Avery >>

 

@Asbestos

Your juggling is impeccable but the overall show fails to amaze. Many have seen these things before and will applaud anyone who doesn't drop anything while juggling. Some of those nearby are slightly more impressed by the selection of the card with a dagger.

 

Despite the applause, the lack of enthusiasm was deafening. He's heard these pity claps before. But no matter. As he lifts off the handkerchiefs away from his face, he clambers back on stage. "You have been amazed by the Great Tangerini, yes, but she will dazzle you some more!" He claps, "I shall do another trick! Yes~ Of the knives!" In an instant, he ties one end of the handkerchief to a dagger, "Tada!" , then throws it up into the air and catches it with his teeth! After balancing the pointed end on the tips of his front teeth for a moment, he swallows it, shifting his internal organs around enough that it doesn't kill him (also he had learned the tricks enough from a human sword-swallower to not actually swallow). He waits for cheers, if there are any, then begins to unravel the handkerchiefs out of his mouth where at the tail end of it, the dagger comes out! "HAHA~" 

"This next part does need an assistant," He exclaims, tapping his foot on the stage. He holds one of his hands out in a puppet-like fashion. "Yes~ I can be of assistance," He says in an even more high-pitched fashion, moving the hand's 'mouth' along with it. His zips in the direction of the hand in a feigned surprise. "Oh! Silkie, yes! You can be of assistance!" 

"Now hold this!" He reaches down and takes out his sickle out of his bag and shoves it into the hand-puppet's 'mouth' along with making a muffled 'hhmm?' noise. "They don't call me Tangerini for nothing! ... Now hold this!" He shoves a tangerine into the puppet's already stuffed mouth and jumps up. "My last trick of the night! ... Catch!" He manages to throw the tangerine, whilst holding the sickle, then tosses the sickle like a boomerang. And while it slashes through the air, he dashes in the front of it, holding another tangerine above his head. The sickles manages to cut through not just the first tangerine, but also the second, only seconds away from his head. And as soon as he lets go of the second one, the sickle lands, straight into the wall once more. 

After that whole ordeal he leans over towards the audience and bows, then skips along towards where he tossed that sickle and retrieves it. "Thank you! Good night!" 

He looks out into the crowd for any applause before using Druidcraft to create a bunch of daises and white roses from his hand, to which he blows out into the crowd in a scattered fashion.

((Charisma: Performance: 8 + 2 = 10))

"Leave my tips with the bartender~" Asbestos then proceeds to jump off stage and towards into a corridor where he could change. There he shapeshifts into a persona of a red-haired halfling woman and walks up towards the bar where the others were. He already had on a new pair of clothes. A black leather vest and brown shorts. He seems to be pulling costumes of hammerspace, this one. "Now how was that?" He asks sort of breathlessly.

Quote from Secretfool >>

Smithy accepts the crawler Fist payed for and looks around. He walks towards Gotu, who seemingly looks worried. 

"Hey Gotu how you doing this night? Crazy, or can I say, scary, isn't it? Anything I can help with?" he asks looking around aswell. 

 "Yeah, check for any unwanted people among us." Gotu replied as he continue looking around.

As Steelclaw is carried in, he just sighs, patting his clothes once they are placed down. At least there would be free drinks. He was accustomed to the Falling Goat, and they knew what he liked: a milk-based drink with clear liquor (essentially a white Russian). He just looks around and then begins feeling the scratch behind his ear. His eyes just leer at Fist. “Treat me like some common house cat, and you’ll lose the hand.”

For a bit he just hangs around silently, enjoying the music and the fact that so many are gathered to pay their respects to his old friend. He then begins to try and hone in on anyone who would make a good mark potentially.

OOC:
Perception check: 10 (7+3) rolled in game log

Quote from Hambergler >>

As Steelclaw is carried in, he just sighs, patting his clothes once they are placed down. At least there would be free drinks. He was accustomed to the Falling Goat, and they knew what he liked: a milk-based drink with clear liquor (essentially a white Russian). He just looks around and then begins feeling the scratch behind his ear. His eyes just leer at Fist. “Treat me like some common house cat, and you’ll lose the hand.”

For a bit he just hangs around silently, enjoying the music and the fact that so many are gathered to pay their respects to his old friend. He then begins to try and hone in on anyone who would make a good mark potentially.

OOC:
Perception check: 10 (7+3) rolled in game log

"Ach. Kitty's go' bite, eh?" He slides 'im a Crawler. "Drink up, maybe find a gal 'dat can pull yer tail just the righ' way for ya." He notices the kid's eyes sweepin' the room, "or maybe ya were alre'dy lookin', eh? Ye dog, ye. Heheheh."

After Gotu's words Smithy moves onwards, keeping an eye out for any unwanted people, towards the other side of the tavern, picking a corner to lean to the wall drink in hand.