As Adaban, Durnir, Ivy, and Walfaerd sit down at the table of the Rigger's Retreat, they take note of the establishment and its patrons. While many of the human folk are cheery and rosy cheeked, some of them stare daggers at the group from across the room. You can see them turn to one other, some whispering, some returning back to their meals and chatter.
Across the room, there sits one other table with some curious looking folk at it. They don't appear in the typical seaman's garb that the rest of the folks in this place are wearing.
Khione, Eirlys, and Davis - After taking care of business here in Noir by apprehending the prime suspect for the murders, you've decided to relax at the tavern before heading back to Champagne the following morning. Though the Rigger's Retreat is not quite to the standards of those in Champagne, it has its own unique charm to it. As you are enjoying your dinner, you see that strange bewildering albino man enter the tavern with a group of four others. They wear cloths more akin to the eastern lands of Es'Verdai-El.
At this time, Please introduce your character by describing their physical appearance: Race, clothing, and physical features! (No backstory, classes, etc. - save that for later :D )
At this moment in time, Khione appears to be as Elvish as they come. Tan skin, coils of curly black hair that went all the way down to her lower back, freckles, and vivid green eyes was her look for the day; clothing wise, she wore very simple leather, while also wearing a dyed-green jacket on her person. Currently, as she sits with her new aquantances, she sips gingerly from a glass of water and keeps careful watch on the rest of the tavern goers- especially that group of four that has just wandered in.
Walfaerd sits down with the other 3. Walf is a male lizard folk, which is rarely seen in these parts. He has no hair, his skin is greyish green and he has silver eyes. He walks with a slight hunch relying on his walking stick for balance. His clothing is clean minus some dirt and berry stains. He has a cloak on with the hood down that also has several spots and stains on them of varying colors. He smiles at everyone staring at him and the others as he sits down and converses with the other 3.
Sitting close to the elf is a woman appearing to be a halfling, only a few inches over three feet tall. She has a relatively plain appearance; with fair skin, a round face, and a squarish build. Her auburn hair is cut into a chin length bob, with bangs covering her forehead. She wears simple light purple shirt, and dull grey pants, though most of it is covered by her studded leather chest piece and arm guards, with a pair of gloves sitting on the table next to her. An insignia patch has been sewn into her chest piece, displaying the mercenary guild she was part of. Pale brown eyes look down at her meal as she eats, though look up as people enter. Curiosity is evident as she watches the group sits down.
Durnir is a boisterous Dwarf, making himself known as they enter. "Oy, it's been far too long! Please tell me you have Beros Mead!"
Durnir is of middling height for a Dwarf, standing about 4'7". He is bald, but has a full black beard that is braided in an intricate style. There is a scar on his forhead that splits one of his eyebrows. He is wearing scale mail that is of Es'Verdai-El make. It has more natural materials than the industrial made armor found in the Crosslands. However, his shield and sword are definitly not from the east. They are a rönd (round shield with metal supports around the edges, and a metal dome at the center) and saber, standard issue equipment for the sailors out of Beros. The rönd is painted with a symbol of Helm.
He is loud and enjoying his mead immensely, having a lively discussion with the people at his table. But you do notice that he still keeps an eye out, like he knows what kind of places they types of taverns can be. While his saber is still at his side, his crossbow and shield are within quick reach by his pack.
{He will currently have Vigilant Blessing up on himself}
Loyally close behind Walfaerd, Ivy steps with pep, hands held behind their back all while humming a tune to themselves. Pointed ears poke out from short silver hair as they hold their nose in the air, sniffing, while wide soft blue hues eagerly scan the new space. Although they wear simple leather and cloth tunic, their visage is adorned with intricate vibrant blue tribal face paint. Tall in comparison to a couple of their companions, Ivy’s also lithe and tan. Once they reach the table, Ivy rocks on the balls on their feet until everyone else takes a seat. Ivy would mouth to themselves as if taking a head count, before finally sitting. It was only a brief moment before Ivy would bounce back up and pad around, sticking close while absentmindedly poking at random things, picking them up and smelling them before placing them right back.
The albino Human's unique appearance is accentuated by the fact that he is one of those rare uniquely beautiful people. You've never quite seen someone like him. His hair and skin are porcelain, and his eyes impossibly light blue-grey - both innocent and piercing at the same time. Not hulking in stature, his figure is nimble, dexterous, and fit. He is garbed in old well-worn work clothes and a cloak, but lacking shoes or socks. His eyes are alert and his head turns at every sound near him, but not with a look of fear or paranoia. He is abound with an overtly obvious curiosity for life. As he approaches the table chair he slides his hands across the woodgrain back before sitting and feeling the full support on his posture. He examines the craftsmanship of the table and the finery (so much as they are fine), not as a man unaccustomed to such things, but as someone who hasn't seen then in ages. He moves with grace and control like a cat, and speaks with a strange inversion of words that mark him as foreign-born. His origins are impossible to place.
Sitting at the table with the halfling and elf is a human male. he has short-cropped, military-style, brown hair, and dark brown eyes. He wears a set of chain mail with a longsword at his hip. A shield and pack leans against the wall nearby. A cloak is over the back of his chair, the same mercenary guild symbol on a badge on the cloak as the halfling has. The human is heavily built, but has a laid-back air about him as he watches the strange group of four enter and take seats at a table nearby. He watches them for a moment longer, then shrugs and returns to a small plate of bread, meat, and cheese on the table in front of him.
As the four of you enter, the tavernkeeper nods to Durnir. With a bit of a flourish, he grabs a flagon and fills it up proper, the head just about to bubble over. He places it onto the counter with an audible clank.
"One Beros Mead on deck, two pence for you ya fine lookin' dwarf! What'll the rest of you folk be 'avin'?" He stands over the bar, hands firmly planted on the wooden counter.
As the four of you enter, the tavernkeeper nods to Durnir. With a bit of a flourish, he grabs a flagon and fills it up proper, the head just about to bubble over. He places it onto the counter with an audible clank.
"One Beros Mead on deck, two pence for you ya fine lookin' dwarf! What'll the rest of you folk be 'avin'?" He stands over the bar, hands firmly planted on the wooden counter.
Durnir watches the flourish and the perfect pour with a smile of approval. With a deep belly laugh, he will say "Rohohohoho. Magnificent! It's been too long and you are amazing! How much for my friends drinks and food, I'll cover them." Durnir will throw down a couple of silver pieces for now, and some more depending on what the price is.
After they get there food and drink, and start having some conversation, Durnir will look around the tavern. He wants to see if there is anyone giving them the stink eye or if they are getting any undo attention. He doesn't want his friends to have a bad time at there first stop. perception24
Ivy’s ears twitch as they perk up from the audible clank. Placing what ever random thing they picked up, back down, Ivy spins ‘round. With a few side steps, they saddle up right next to Durnir when he’s retrieving his drink. Ivy would lean in a little and sniff at it with curiosity, then sniff at Durnir, then back at his drink. They’d give their nose a little wiggle, “Hmmm…” and contemplated.
Ivy rocks on their feet in thought before leaning over the counter as if to peek around the tavernkeeper before looking back at him. “Ou!” They’d bounce. “Would you have anything sweet to go with it?” Ivy had a soft but upbeat feminine voice. “Tea? Do you have tea too?” She looks back at Walfaerd. “Want tea?!” Ivy calls out, offering to get it for him.
Walf nods to Ivy from his seat at the table and shouts back "Perhaps they have a little pastry for Walf? Walf does enjoy them back home, perhaps they have them here?"
Her gaze still unblinkingly locked on the tavern's newcomers as they went about their business, Khione spoke to the other two at her table without looking at either of them. "Are the people around here always this loud, or is this simply a special occasion?" Oddly enough, though the question itself was rather rude, she spoke it in a tone without any malice or irritation. In fact, her soft-spoken and dreamy voice seemed to only hold genuine curiosity. Durnir, you'd definitely notice her staring at your group.
"They're new here I believe." Eirlys responds, her voice quiet and lightly accented. Her gaze still remains on the new arrivals, her interest lacking any sense of hostility. "Based on their garments alone. I doubt they want to be loud intentionally, but we are at a tavern." She chuckles to herself. "They don't seem like the kind of folk who will start a brawl over being given advice on tavern etiquette."
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The ever growing document of character concepts can never be too long, can it?
Davis glances up from his food again, looking to Khione and then to the newcomers. He gives a shrug that causes the chain mail he is wearing to clink softly. "Can't say if they are normal around these parts, I haven't been here long after all myself." He looks aorund at the other people in the tavern then, trying to tell if anyone is acting out of sorts by the newcomers.
Durnir: You would certainly notice some people staring, but most make passing glances and keep to themselves. There is one other table of rugged looking men that have hardly taken their eyes off of Walfaerd since he shouted across the room.
Ivy: The man behind the counter smiles and nods, the light reflecting off his smooth head, "Aye, we've got tea - fresh off the galley you lot just sailed in on."He then shouts back to Walf, "No pastry here though, sorry erm, sir. Best I can do is a warm bowl of shrimp n' grits, if that suits your fancy."
Khione: While the tavern wasn't too boisterous before this group arrived, it's not unheard of for coastal settlements to attract a raucous bunch - especially as the sun goes down.
Davis: Assuming you and the rest of your table had been investigating a serial killing spree, you'd likely have been in the area a few days to a few weeks, whichever seems more likely to you. The group of men that is staring daggers at these newcomers were folks you interviewed as potential suspects - one of their associates was determined the culprit, but no connection could be made to the rest of them. Their known to be quite confrontation and start bar fights on occasion - usually with outlanders.
Walf disappointed shouts back "Tea is fine. Walf never heard of this grits." Walf mutters to himself about not having any pastries and his eyes go wide before shouting again "Perhaps tavern man has.....what is this word....it is smashed fruit and bread! Very tasty!"
Adaban watches and listens to the exchange intently, slowing gazing across the room at each table, taking in each face and expression. As he does, he addresses Walf without looking back at him. "Sweet things are to your liking, it seems. Such can be an unhealthy way to eat."
"Best be keeping our eyes on those lot." Davis says to the two at his table. He nods slightly to the table of toughs he and his companions had dealt with previously. "Our old friends there look to have taken a dislike to those four new people." Looking to Khione: he asks, "Do you think we should preempt the likely bar fight that is coming and have a word with our old acquaintances there, or should we simply be ready when it starts?"
Walf disappointed shouts back "Tea is fine. Walf never heard of this grits." Walf mutters to himself about not having any pastries and his eyes go wide before shouting again "Perhaps tavern man has.....what is this word....it is smashed fruit and bread! Very tasty!"
Durnir chuckles to the barkeep. "Sorry about my friends, I think this might be the first tavern they've been to. Do you have any bread and jam? Oh, and I'll take a bowl of the shrimp n' grits! It's been years since I've had it! They don't have many grits Es'Verdai-El. Don't know what they're missing, if you ask me!"
Durnir will get the food and drinks and head back to the table. He clocks the group of three that at not hiding there curiosity and notices there guild markings. {DM, does Durnir recognize the guild mark}
As for the ruffians, there isn't much he can do right now. If he tell his friends, they would most likely just head over there, curious. That would end up in a fight. If he goes over, that would probably end in a fight as well. Best to just ignore them for now, and keep a discrete and vigilant watch on that table.
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As Adaban, Durnir, Ivy, and Walfaerd sit down at the table of the Rigger's Retreat, they take note of the establishment and its patrons. While many of the human folk are cheery and rosy cheeked, some of them stare daggers at the group from across the room. You can see them turn to one other, some whispering, some returning back to their meals and chatter.
Across the room, there sits one other table with some curious looking folk at it. They don't appear in the typical seaman's garb that the rest of the folks in this place are wearing.
Khione, Eirlys, and Davis - After taking care of business here in Noir by apprehending the prime suspect for the murders, you've decided to relax at the tavern before heading back to Champagne the following morning. Though the Rigger's Retreat is not quite to the standards of those in Champagne, it has its own unique charm to it. As you are enjoying your dinner, you see that strange bewildering albino man enter the tavern with a group of four others. They wear cloths more akin to the eastern lands of Es'Verdai-El.
At this time, Please introduce your character by describing their physical appearance: Race, clothing, and physical features! (No backstory, classes, etc. - save that for later :D )
At this moment in time, Khione appears to be as Elvish as they come. Tan skin, coils of curly black hair that went all the way down to her lower back, freckles, and vivid green eyes was her look for the day; clothing wise, she wore very simple leather, while also wearing a dyed-green jacket on her person. Currently, as she sits with her new aquantances, she sips gingerly from a glass of water and keeps careful watch on the rest of the tavern goers- especially that group of four that has just wandered in.
Walfaerd sits down with the other 3. Walf is a male lizard folk, which is rarely seen in these parts. He has no hair, his skin is greyish green and he has silver eyes. He walks with a slight hunch relying on his walking stick for balance. His clothing is clean minus some dirt and berry stains. He has a cloak on with the hood down that also has several spots and stains on them of varying colors. He smiles at everyone staring at him and the others as he sits down and converses with the other 3.
Sitting close to the elf is a woman appearing to be a halfling, only a few inches over three feet tall. She has a relatively plain appearance; with fair skin, a round face, and a squarish build. Her auburn hair is cut into a chin length bob, with bangs covering her forehead. She wears simple light purple shirt, and dull grey pants, though most of it is covered by her studded leather chest piece and arm guards, with a pair of gloves sitting on the table next to her. An insignia patch has been sewn into her chest piece, displaying the mercenary guild she was part of. Pale brown eyes look down at her meal as she eats, though look up as people enter. Curiosity is evident as she watches the group sits down.
The ever growing document of character concepts can never be too long, can it?
Durnir is a boisterous Dwarf, making himself known as they enter. "Oy, it's been far too long! Please tell me you have Beros Mead!"
Durnir is of middling height for a Dwarf, standing about 4'7". He is bald, but has a full black beard that is braided in an intricate style. There is a scar on his forhead that splits one of his eyebrows. He is wearing scale mail that is of Es'Verdai-El make. It has more natural materials than the industrial made armor found in the Crosslands. However, his shield and sword are definitly not from the east. They are a rönd (round shield with metal supports around the edges, and a metal dome at the center) and saber, standard issue equipment for the sailors out of Beros. The rönd is painted with a symbol of Helm.
He is loud and enjoying his mead immensely, having a lively discussion with the people at his table. But you do notice that he still keeps an eye out, like he knows what kind of places they types of taverns can be. While his saber is still at his side, his crossbow and shield are within quick reach by his pack.
{He will currently have Vigilant Blessing up on himself}
Loyally close behind Walfaerd, Ivy steps with pep, hands held behind their back all while humming a tune to themselves. Pointed ears poke out from short silver hair as they hold their nose in the air, sniffing, while wide soft blue hues eagerly scan the new space. Although they wear simple leather and cloth tunic, their visage is adorned with intricate vibrant blue tribal face paint. Tall in comparison to a couple of their companions, Ivy’s also lithe and tan. Once they reach the table, Ivy rocks on the balls on their feet until everyone else takes a seat. Ivy would mouth to themselves as if taking a head count, before finally sitting. It was only a brief moment before Ivy would bounce back up and pad around, sticking close while absentmindedly poking at random things, picking them up and smelling them before placing them right back.
Ivy
just an unstable unicorn.
Adaban:
The albino Human's unique appearance is accentuated by the fact that he is one of those rare uniquely beautiful people. You've never quite seen someone like him. His hair and skin are porcelain, and his eyes impossibly light blue-grey - both innocent and piercing at the same time. Not hulking in stature, his figure is nimble, dexterous, and fit. He is garbed in old well-worn work clothes and a cloak, but lacking shoes or socks. His eyes are alert and his head turns at every sound near him, but not with a look of fear or paranoia. He is abound with an overtly obvious curiosity for life. As he approaches the table chair he slides his hands across the woodgrain back before sitting and feeling the full support on his posture. He examines the craftsmanship of the table and the finery (so much as they are fine), not as a man unaccustomed to such things, but as someone who hasn't seen then in ages. He moves with grace and control like a cat, and speaks with a strange inversion of words that mark him as foreign-born. His origins are impossible to place.
Sitting at the table with the halfling and elf is a human male. he has short-cropped, military-style, brown hair, and dark brown eyes. He wears a set of chain mail with a longsword at his hip. A shield and pack leans against the wall nearby. A cloak is over the back of his chair, the same mercenary guild symbol on a badge on the cloak as the halfling has. The human is heavily built, but has a laid-back air about him as he watches the strange group of four enter and take seats at a table nearby. He watches them for a moment longer, then shrugs and returns to a small plate of bread, meat, and cheese on the table in front of him.
As the four of you enter, the tavernkeeper nods to Durnir. With a bit of a flourish, he grabs a flagon and fills it up proper, the head just about to bubble over. He places it onto the counter with an audible clank.
"One Beros Mead on deck, two pence for you ya fine lookin' dwarf! What'll the rest of you folk be 'avin'?" He stands over the bar, hands firmly planted on the wooden counter.
Durnir watches the flourish and the perfect pour with a smile of approval. With a deep belly laugh, he will say "Rohohohoho. Magnificent! It's been too long and you are amazing! How much for my friends drinks and food, I'll cover them." Durnir will throw down a couple of silver pieces for now, and some more depending on what the price is.
After they get there food and drink, and start having some conversation, Durnir will look around the tavern. He wants to see if there is anyone giving them the stink eye or if they are getting any undo attention. He doesn't want his friends to have a bad time at there first stop. perception 24
Ivy’s ears twitch as they perk up from the audible clank. Placing what ever random thing they picked up, back down, Ivy spins ‘round. With a few side steps, they saddle up right next to Durnir when he’s retrieving his drink. Ivy would lean in a little and sniff at it with curiosity, then sniff at Durnir, then back at his drink. They’d give their nose a little wiggle, “Hmmm…” and contemplated.
Ivy rocks on their feet in thought before leaning over the counter as if to peek around the tavernkeeper before looking back at him. “Ou!” They’d bounce. “Would you have anything sweet to go with it?” Ivy had a soft but upbeat feminine voice. “Tea? Do you have tea too?” She looks back at Walfaerd. “Want tea?!” Ivy calls out, offering to get it for him.
just an unstable unicorn.
Walf nods to Ivy from his seat at the table and shouts back "Perhaps they have a little pastry for Walf? Walf does enjoy them back home, perhaps they have them here?"
Her gaze still unblinkingly locked on the tavern's newcomers as they went about their business, Khione spoke to the other two at her table without looking at either of them. "Are the people around here always this loud, or is this simply a special occasion?" Oddly enough, though the question itself was rather rude, she spoke it in a tone without any malice or irritation. In fact, her soft-spoken and dreamy voice seemed to only hold genuine curiosity.
Durnir, you'd definitely notice her staring at your group.
"They're new here I believe." Eirlys responds, her voice quiet and lightly accented. Her gaze still remains on the new arrivals, her interest lacking any sense of hostility. "Based on their garments alone. I doubt they want to be loud intentionally, but we are at a tavern." She chuckles to herself. "They don't seem like the kind of folk who will start a brawl over being given advice on tavern etiquette."
The ever growing document of character concepts can never be too long, can it?
Davis glances up from his food again, looking to Khione and then to the newcomers. He gives a shrug that causes the chain mail he is wearing to clink softly. "Can't say if they are normal around these parts, I haven't been here long after all myself." He looks aorund at the other people in the tavern then, trying to tell if anyone is acting out of sorts by the newcomers.
Durnir: You would certainly notice some people staring, but most make passing glances and keep to themselves. There is one other table of rugged looking men that have hardly taken their eyes off of Walfaerd since he shouted across the room.
Ivy: The man behind the counter smiles and nods, the light reflecting off his smooth head, "Aye, we've got tea - fresh off the galley you lot just sailed in on." He then shouts back to Walf, "No pastry here though, sorry erm, sir. Best I can do is a warm bowl of shrimp n' grits, if that suits your fancy."
Khione: While the tavern wasn't too boisterous before this group arrived, it's not unheard of for coastal settlements to attract a raucous bunch - especially as the sun goes down.
Davis: Assuming you and the rest of your table had been investigating a serial killing spree, you'd likely have been in the area a few days to a few weeks, whichever seems more likely to you. The group of men that is staring daggers at these newcomers were folks you interviewed as potential suspects - one of their associates was determined the culprit, but no connection could be made to the rest of them. Their known to be quite confrontation and start bar fights on occasion - usually with outlanders.
Walf disappointed shouts back "Tea is fine. Walf never heard of this grits." Walf mutters to himself about not having any pastries and his eyes go wide before shouting again "Perhaps tavern man has.....what is this word....it is smashed fruit and bread! Very tasty!"
Adaban watches and listens to the exchange intently, slowing gazing across the room at each table, taking in each face and expression. As he does, he addresses Walf without looking back at him. "Sweet things are to your liking, it seems. Such can be an unhealthy way to eat."
"Best be keeping our eyes on those lot." Davis says to the two at his table. He nods slightly to the table of toughs he and his companions had dealt with previously. "Our old friends there look to have taken a dislike to those four new people." Looking to Khione: he asks, "Do you think we should preempt the likely bar fight that is coming and have a word with our old acquaintances there, or should we simply be ready when it starts?"
Durnir chuckles to the barkeep. "Sorry about my friends, I think this might be the first tavern they've been to. Do you have any bread and jam? Oh, and I'll take a bowl of the shrimp n' grits! It's been years since I've had it! They don't have many grits Es'Verdai-El. Don't know what they're missing, if you ask me!"
Durnir will get the food and drinks and head back to the table. He clocks the group of three that at not hiding there curiosity and notices there guild markings. {DM, does Durnir recognize the guild mark}
As for the ruffians, there isn't much he can do right now. If he tell his friends, they would most likely just head over there, curious. That would end up in a fight. If he goes over, that would probably end in a fight as well. Best to just ignore them for now, and keep a discrete and vigilant watch on that table.