Ka-Cha finishes his drink & tries the fly juice. 

@Ka-Cha

The bartender gives you raised eyebrows at your trying of the fly juice, but seeing that he already tried the blood wine this was pretty much fine and good. The juice itself is like bitter-sweet. It has a sort of citrus-y taste to it. But also smoky meatiness. It is like eating garlicky orange (rind and peel) marinade already basted on some chicken.

No one in the room seems to mind the anthropomorphic insect among them, but you know that someone has taken interest, although as many people have come and gone by the time the drink arrived so it is hard to tell who sent it.

[[ sorry for the delay ]]

Tendilius raises an inquiring brow, "Are you a follower of the Falling Fire?" As to the philosophical query he says, "Well in general laws cannot be retroactive. Paired with the right to self-defense and I wouldn't see a ground for any such prosecution to stand on. But if there is a known way to end the effects of contamination, I suppose most moral philosophers would concur it would be preferable to lethal force, assuming similar efficacy."

He retrieves the daggers as he awaits Fish's reply.

Hadrian grins at the group's enthusiasm, taking the slaps on the back and spilled beer in stride. "Alright, alright," He says, wiping a bit of foam from his shirt with a smirk. "Looks like I'm in the right place for a good time."

He returns Christian’s shoulder slap with a hearty one of his own. “Glad you’re feeling better, mate. You know, hit me up when you’re ready to get back on the horse. I’ll be your wingman.”

Hadrian’s spent enough time around shifty sailors and silver-tongued merchants to recognize a man with more on his mind than he's letting on. But he can’t say he’s gathered anything on Mel. The man’s a puzzle. Some people play mind games, and some people are just plain crazy. Hadrian raises an eyebrow as Mel talks about being a bloodhound. “So, what kind of job is that?” 

“Well. It’s a ragtag group, for sure. Not much different from the sea. You see a lot of outcasts out there. We take in what the land doesn’t want.” He pauses, grinning and showing his teeth. “And adventure? Always. All the better if gold and fame come with it.”

Despite his efforts to read Mel, he’s not getting much. What he does know is his own rolls. Shrugging, he decides to call it anyways. “Dudo.”

Ka-Cha just tastes the drink, giving it a half hour to show effects.

@Tendilius

Fish bites off the skin off their lip. "Nope." Apparently they bit a bite too hard and it starts bleeding. They make scrunched faces as they keep their lower lip in their mouth to halt the flow. "I can see why you said that though. I actually grew up going to a parochial school when I was younger." Their eyes follow a fly that buzzes through. "'I am what I am. The Torch compels us so.' Saint Tarna. 15:18 Song of Fire." Fish leans back to watch your face as they quote scripture. They sigh and look down.

"Ah. Well true." Blood still trickles down their chin despite their best efforts at stopping it. "You're not wrong. So then why does it matter then if they are intelligent or not? They are all sentenced to the same fate just as we."

"You kill them knowing what you could have done. But you didn't orjust couldn't. Save them, and they live and die knowing what they have done. How many they have killed. How much they have lost." Their foot taps rapidly on the floor. "And that there is nothing they could do about it." They keep on going, eyes hard. "What is lost has already been lost."

They put the lapel of their cloak in their mouth to which their lip finally stops bleeding. 

"And what if the damned want to stay damned? They do not want to change from your 'suffering'. They like it. So, if you kill them, not only do you take their right to live, but you kill their right to self-determination." They wipe the dagger they just retrieved, hands shaking, with the same cloak. "And is that the hill you want to die on?"

@Hadrian

The group threw their hands in the air when they knew you were up for a good time. 

Christian made that noise of blowing air from his nose (in a good way, of course). "Thanks... mate." He gave an uncertain smile. It seemed he was unsure of whether or not he should have said that. He then nods, "Sure, I will." He looked down to fiddle with his fingernails.

Mel keeps on biting that jerky like a rabid dog. Some pieces of it fly out his mouth when he talks to you.

"You know. Just the kind." He playfully punches Cuff (who was standing next to him) in the stomach a bit too hard. The red-haired halfling nearly doubles over from that but keeps a wide smile, but you can just see those frown lines above his eyebrows emerging on the horizon. The others don't care to move. "I'm always doing something. Never around too long one place or the other. Always got to keep it moving. I see it before it's happening. I know everyone here and what's happening. Eyes on the prize." He picks at hangnail and straight up yanks it out. It just starts bleeding out and he ignores it.

"Well then you must be itching for it then, huh?" He smirks, "Saw your insect-o friend over there. And if ragtag ain't my middle name!" He chortles and slams his fist down the table; it goes shaking. David grabs at his own drink before it topples over. Christian just sips on his as he had it already in his hand. Mel waits until the table stops moving to start talking. He leans back, feet up, and chair wobbling precariously on just one leg to the side.

"I make connections. And I do introductions." Wooden chair legs scrape as the halfling leaves the conversation without a word. Mel's eyes follow him out.

He just leaves it at that until you call out his bluff.

A wide smile. Waving his hands around the cup like a magician's trick, he opens up his cup. 

Blackjack Mel's cup

1 3 4 6 1 2

So too does David.

Tiefling David's cup

6 2 4 2 2 6

((Leaving this for chance.))

@Ka-Cha Khan 

((Constitution check: 15 + 1 = 16))

Turns out the fermented fly juice was a lot more stronger than you thought. Even sipping it you feel a little woozy. But overall you're doing okay. Guess your exoskeleton's pretty hardy.

@Hadrian

"Well." Mel sits up straight. "Guess... your luck!" He flicks the olive (one from one of the drinks he ordered throughout the time playing. The table is practically littered with unfinished ales, shots, and tequilas) and catches it in the air in between his teeth. He bites through it with such zeal that you would think even the pit cracks. It doesn't. But eventually it will as he grinds it against his molars. 

"Say, Mel, whatcha think of this fella?" His eyes look out in front as he addresses himself. Neither Christian nor David seem turned off by this. Looks to be a regular. Throwing his fist down on the table, Mel turns to you, the olive pit still stuck in between his teeth with such a grin. "I think he's got some fight in him." 

Putting his forearm behind the gold pile, he softly pushes it towards you. The gold clinks against the wooden table. 

“What ya say about adventure?" He sneers, leaning real too close to you. "...I've got your ticket." Rummaging through his pants pockets, he tosses you Charlatan's Dice. He throws his arm around your shoulder and stands up, pulling you up with him. "Come here. Let me tell you something.... Ever been to Buckledown?"

((Added 20 gold to your inventory and also Charlatan's dice))

He looks up Mel, who’s chewing on jerky like it owes him money. Hadrian raises an eyebrow, taking in the scene—the overly playful punch to Cuff, the halfling’s forced smile, and Mel’s bleeding hangnail. It’s a chaotic picture, but he finds the wildness amusing. It reminds him of the rough-and-tumble life at sea. And apparently it’s too much for the halfling. He watches Cuff take off, but everyone else seems to be unaffected. 

"Always on the move, huh? Sounds like a life I know well." Hadrian says with a grin. He lifts his drink in a cheer as the dice roll in his favor, riding the wave of victory. As Mel shoves the pile of gold towards him, he gestures with swirling of his finger. “Another round on me!”

Hadrian catches the charlatan's dice, the smooth, cool surface resting between his fingers. He rotates it slowly, watching the numbers on its sides shift and change like a trickster’s grin. He feels the corner of his lips lift up, the familiar thrill of a gamble sparking in his chest. Letting Mel pull him to his feet, he stands up. "Buckledown, you say? Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure."

Quote from SunDial365 >>

@Tendilius

Fish bites off the skin off their lip. "Nope." Apparently they bit a bite too hard and it starts bleeding. They make scrunched faces as they keep their lower lip in their mouth to halt the flow. "I can see why you said that though. I actually grew up going to a parochial school when I was younger." Their eyes follow a fly that buzzes through. "'I am what I am. The Torch compels us so.' Saint Tarna. 15:18 Song of Fire." Fish leans back to watch your face as they quote scripture. They sigh and look down.

"Ah. Well true." Blood still trickles down their chin despite their best efforts at stopping it. "You're not wrong. So then why does it matter then if they are intelligent or not? They are all sentenced to the same fate just as we."

"You kill them knowing what you could have done. But you didn't orjust couldn't. Save them, and they live and die knowing what they have done. How many they have killed. How much they have lost." Their foot taps rapidly on the floor. "And that there is nothing they could do about it." They keep on going, eyes hard. "What is lost has already been lost."

They put the lapel of their cloak in their mouth to which their lip finally stops bleeding. 

"And what if the damned want to stay damned? They do not want to change from your 'suffering'. They like it. So, if you kill them, not only do you take their right to live, but you kill their right to self-determination." They wipe the dagger they just retrieved, hands shaking, with the same cloak. "And is that the hill you want to die on?"

Tendilius muses as Fish quotes Saint Tarna.

Religion: 16+3 = 19
//what would he know about St. Tarna?

He offers some anecdote to complement Fish's statement and adds, "Must admit religious matters aren't as much of my forte, I tend to focus more on the dealing of mortals, but the religious aspects certainly play a role in shaping societies."

As Fish mentions the question of if the damned wish to stay damned he thinks for a moment, "Way I see it, the man we saw transform had no desire to attack his friends until he turned into that... thing. So perhaps treat it more like insanity. If there's a way to do it then they're not in their right mind if they don't wish to be purged of contamination. But of course it's a moot point without such a way to reverse such transformations." He throws another couple knives at the board. He pulls them and then asks, "Though on the matter of delerium, I just got here today with some others and with the prices here, my purse can only last so long. Must admit I'm curious if you'd have any leads on expeditions into the city, or perhaps be willing to join forces. Safety in numbers and all."

@Hadrian

"Whohoho hey!" The table shouts when you mention another round of free booze (well mostly David shouts, but, whatever, everyone looks pretty grateful).

"Never been? That's what I thought." He tsk tsk tsks that statement, leading you to the back with his arm around your shoulder. "Oh boy, well then, you are missing out!" Mel ruffles the hair on your head.

"Hey Blackjack! ... What about the other round?" 

Mel shots down the tiefling with a glare which then turns into a smile. With a flick of his head, "Christian! Ayo!" He whistles. The blonde elf scrambles to take his seat. "Go take my spot." He laughs, " 'ere" He throws in a pouch filled with more clinking sounds of gold. "Another play on me." He then winks at you. Then finger guns you. "Say ya didn't ever been to Buckledown Row now have ya?" 

"Well! Oh boy are you in for a treat!" He waves his hand in the air straight in front of him in a semicircle. "Luck-y day!" He lets you go and goes to lean in against a statue of a knight in armor, crossing his right leg across the other. "It's in the outer walls of the city. Me and the Men, we run it." Pushing his hand out from behind him against the wall, he sticks his neck out towards Heiboros who had shuffled in earlier a few seconds after you guys after a detour hunting. His purple cloak waves with an unseen breeze. "Seen you got some friends on the other side." 

Blackjack Mel shakes his head as if anticipating what you're going to say. "No, that means you guys are good. Love a strong team."

"I just want you guys to go and, uh-" He waves his hand in a circle, "steal the spoils of another party. Yeah. Whatever you got. We only just want 100 gold of it. And you'll get the Queen's protection." He looks around the whole of the tavern. "And ya know... a little something something. For each of ya." He gestures over to the charlatan's dice he handed you, waving it off as if its small. 

"Put it in the well." He mimics the movement with his hands, one in a circle and then the other dipping into it. He looks up with an eyebrow raised and a smirk to you to see if you get his insinuation. "And we'll pick it up. Every gang does it."

Leaning back against the wall with his arms up, he stretching like a cat. His back cracks. "Ah." Left arm over head. Right arm over next. Standing back up straight he looks to you. "Got the gist?" His teeth finally crack that olive pit.

@Tendilius

As a person who does not really delve into religion (other than the fiend you made a pact to), you know only just some of the general beliefs of the prominent religion, basically whatever pop culture has gotten you so far. The Sacred Flame (also known as the Divine Light) is the deity-less religion whose devotees pray for guidance from a transcendent divine force that they believe is the source of all light and goodness. Saint Tarna, who you recognize from history books more as a warlord turned revolutionary against an evil sorcerer-king, was the first martyr (and first paladin) whose followers then evangelized the faith. Saint Tarna is typically depicted as a silver-haired warrior bearing a longsword in murals and in stained glass.. She is often shown in battle against demons and witches, sometimes astride her griffon, Aarak.

The holy text of the faith is called the Song of Fire. Something most people don't have an exact copy of but are preached from by Flamekeepers and acolytes of the chapels. Flamekeepers are ordained priests and are predominantly women but anyone of any gender is welcome to take the position; they wear flowing vestments of white, yellow, and gold. The highest authority amongst the priesthood of the Sacred Fire is the Divine Matriarch, who tends the Cathedral of Saint Tarna in the holy city of Lumen in the land of Elyria.

In Caspia, Elyria, and Westemär, most towns have at least one chapel devoted to the Sacred Flame. Major cathedrals to the Sacred Flame are found in large cities. Small shrines in most villages are usually simply an awning built over a bonfire pit.

...

"Fair enough. I would of if I could've." Fish sighs on the religion comment. "It really does."

Gritting their teeth, you see some tears begin on the horizon. "Yeah. They do." Their fingernails scrape the sides of their clenched fist. "It ain't easy seeing your friend try to bite your face off after just saving them. 'Saving them'" They air quote. "Fairweather's the one most sell delirium to." They offer, guessing since you're new in town you as well need the help. "Chips are 10 and Geodes 5,000." They wipe their face and collect their daggers  (they had thrown some while you were talking) and yours, handing yours back to you.

"Wish I could say I could. Already got my own team." They wipe their dagger with their cloak. They pat you on the back before heading to the door. "See you soon." They lightly tap the skeleton skull on the side of the door frame. "Just one thing: Beware false faces." They go out the doorway.

Its around this time you see Wormy the caterpillar inching its way across the bar. 

Hadrian follows Mel’s gaze to Heiboros, noting the aarakocra’s purple cloak billowing slightly as he moves, its rich colour announcing its alliance. He rolls the charlatan's dice in his palm unconsciously, feeling the subtle weight shift as he mulls this over. He’s heard of the Queen, of course. And to survive Drakkenheim, you need someone to have your back. He’s no stranger to robbery and pillage, but he’d imagine some of his companions would need a little convincing. Dabbert seems like an upstanding guy, but he hasn’t been himself ever since he heard about his old lover. Juniper’s wide-eyed and hopeful. She’s stronger than she looks, though Hadrian isn’t sure how she’ll take to this kind of work. And Hadrian still doesn’t fully know Heiboros’ relationship with the Amethyst Academy. Where does his loyalty lie? Tendilius might see the Queen’s men as a valuable source of information, with their eyes and ears all over the city. As for the Thri-Kreen, Hadrian doesn’t know a thing about him. But then, you don’t always get the crew you want. You play the cards you’re dealt with.

Hadrian meets Mel’s gaze, a glint in his brown eyes. "Got it," he says. "Sounds like just the kind of adventure I’ve been looking for. I’m in.” He slips the charlatan's dice into his chest pocket, glancing at his companions scattered around Skull and Sword, then continues. “Not the crew I would’ve picked, but I can’t complain. A man can lead a group, that’s one thing. But when people work together, that’s when you have a team.”

"And as for Buckledown Row, I look forward to seeing what all the fuss is about." Finally, Hadrian offers his hand to seal their pact.

@Hadrian 

Blackjack Mel looks you up and down and then nods. "Good." Again he stretches. "Ya got it." Then shrugs. "You're never gonna get the team you ever want, but you'll get the team you get." If that was meant to sound like there was any profound wisdom you can hardly tell as in his face is a mixture of bravado and wild smile. He then leans in and shakes your hand with his left, pushes off and uses your momentum to go and slap you on the back, haughtily. "See ya tomorrah." Then, some pats.

Lightning soon crackles outside. Overhead on the tin rooftop rain stops its pit patters down softly, now marking down their fall with clanging vibrations. "Oh ho ho boy. It's gonna be a big one." Slamming his fists down at his original table he bares a wide toothy smile. "Betting its gonna be a monsoon this time around, huh?" He places a few more gold pieces down on the bet. The other men look to him warily then the one window out front then back at him, murmuring.

He then turns back to look at you.

"You should be staying warm."

Ka-Cha notices wormy heading down the bar & catches him.  He looks for a plant to put him on.

After Fish leaves Tendilius looks around for other party-members to join. Seeing Ka-Cha Khan he walks over to the thri-keen and says, "Well I had a pleasant conversation with a sea elf. How have things been going for you?"

@Ka-Cha Khan and Tendilius

Wormy struggles in the the thri-keen's grasp but eventually relents seeing as it is nature's way of having one bigger insect taking down another. Though once you put it down on a soft leaf (surprisingly, there is what resembles to be a mandrakes in a pot hanging from the ceiling. Knowing that this place is practically deserted of all life it must have been imported. Mean its must have been expensive), Wormy settles down on it, content that it is safe (at least for now). The orc bartender shoots a quick glare then smile as to see the small lifeform there. "Well what do you know." She whispers to herself, continuing to make drinks.

Ka-Cha replies:  “Pleasant.  The fly juice was a bit strong, but tasted alright.  I was curious if wormy had completed it’s life cycle and was ready to pupate.  Normally caterpillars are herbivores, so I put it on a plant.  If it eats, it’s still growing.  If it doesn’t, it’s either stopped growing and is ready to pupate, or doesn’t like the plant.”

Not much bothers Dabbert during all of this as his (Friends?  Allies?) do their thing, from playing games to general conversations.  He just stays quiet, stays at the bar, is incapable of stopping the thoughts running through his head.  When she puts Death's Door in front of him, he doesn't hesitate.  He turns it up, and gets it down in one go, then makes a face like he just poisoned himself.  

"Get me another."  

Wormy eats those leaves voraciously. It chows down! The orc is stuck between both fear and amusement as she both wants to take off that caterpillar but is too enamored by its little face to take it off. After, with a sigh, she decides to leave the very hungry thing alone.

"Another?" Frida asks warily of Dabbert. She eyes his sad face and leaves to go get him another one. She returns with another shot glass full of the stuff and slowly sets it down in front of him, watching him.

With the storm looming closer, thunder rumbling distantly, the wind howling, windows rattling, Hadrian decides it’s a good time to head back to the Bark and Buzzard for the night. He sees Dabbert is still at the bar, downing drinks like he wants to drown himself. Hadrian steps up beside him, takes the drink set in front of Dabbert before the solider has the chance to grab it, lifting it to his lips and takes a gulp. The strong, burning liquid touches his tongue, leaving a fiery trail as it goes down. He swallows hard and setting the glass back down with a solid thud, feeling the heat spreading in his chest. Man, that’s strong. ”I think that’s enough for the day, mate," Hadrian says, ”Come on, Hahft, save some for tomorrow. We gotta go back before the storm hits.“

Ka-Cha takes wormy & fellows the rest back to the hotel.