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The Wanderer

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Jon Jon

The young monk sat in thought for a long, long time as he pondered just who to go to. The Cleric looked like a good option, but could also not be any help, not like the guards that could point him in the right direction. But due to the lack of armor and quiet conversation could end up with him getting a verbal beating, and he wasn't looking to be kicked out.

The Elves in the back could also know something.

Then his eye caught something around the neck of the story-teller. A symbol of a deity that he remembered the stranger worshipped. Maybe she knew the stranger? But then again, she was entertaining the children, and he couldn't bear the guilt if he made children unhappy.

This much thinking made his head hurt slightly as it considered every option.

Finally he chose to go with the cleric. The holy-man must know something. Jon Jon stood up from his seat, leaving a few gold coins to cover a tip for the meal before walking over to the cleric, whom he'd bow his head before introducing himself. "Sir, mind if I have a word with you?"

Falcon Falcon
 

Mobley Eats

Consume. Smother your doubts. Be fulfilled.
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Gora | Location: Ox & Lamb Inn ==> Towards the Speakeasy | Interactions: Pan Flippin' Friend (Cook TheQueensGuard TheQueensGuard )

"Bah! She's be a'holding out on us," Gora chuckled in response to Fin; regardless, she sat back and let it be, just hoping the little woman would keep regaling her little tale. She wanted to know all about that champion dude, dangit. And, well, lots of other little stuff in her story. Her song...

Heh. Okay then. When the time came, she'd bring it up. Or not. She was no shepherd of life; nothing much more than a sailor's hat on the ocean breeze. Err... or something like that. Pretty sure that was how it went. Maybe. It didn't matter--

"Hm? Whazzit?" Gora turned around when she caught the tail end of Lucy's words. Some guilt bubbled up her gut, though she still grinned at the woman's retreating form. Whoops... It was okay, she'd make it up to the woman later. Somehow. Uh, with like... something. She'd figure it out. Gora put her attention on the signed document and stuffed it back into her jacket happily. It was only then that she realized the big ole lizard man next to her.

Grinning wide, she gave him a harmless but hearty pat to the back. "Cook! My's pan flippin' friend! I hope the kitchen 'n life be's treating you well, yeah?" Of course. Definitely. She was certain it did; this place pulled in damn good business and was provided the ale in all the land! She swore it on her heart--oh, whoops. She was supposed to be getting paid! Haha, damned attention span. What was that again? Something she didn't have, apparently.

Seemingly.

"Welp." Gora let loose a burp, though tamer than her usual, and pushed off the counter. "Saves us a meal to share later? Or some bread 'n ale. Sounds good! Byes!" Did she just have an entire and abrupt one-sided conversation with the chef? Yes, yes she did. Had to stick to routine, after all. A nonexistent one.

Now--what was it about something new? Eh, good ole Edi might know.

Casually, Gora welcomed herself into the kitchen, happily patting the backs of every employer she crossed paths with, recalling all of their names (aka, the creative nicknames she dubbed them at some point). Oooo--it smelled damn good back here. Maybe she could sneak in a little ole piece for herself? Nah. Well. She probably could, but that wouldn't be very nice, now would it? Nope. Not at all. Gora was goofy, not a troublemaker--

"Father, why can't I join the other kids? I've finished my scriptures for the evening--"


A warm hand landed atop her head. "They are breeders of trouble, dear child. You are above this."

"But... I... I just want to..." Words failed her.


"Listen, dear heart, and listen well." He lowered, their gazes locked. "Society honors its living conformists... and dead troublemakers. You cannot fulfill your duties in death." A tired smile. "Neither of us can."

Oh, whoops. Almost missed it!

Skidding to a halt and trailing backwards a few steps, Gora caught sight of the hidden entrance to the Speakeasy. Folding both arms behind her head, she trotted on over, intent on giving good ole Edi a whopping reunion hug. And, hopefully, not bruising the poor guy's spine this time around.
 
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Falcon

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Male, Female, No Preferences
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Aggressive, can be passive depending on point in RP.
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Fantasy, scifi, futuristic modern, fantasy modern, Action/adventure, Mystery, Fan-based,
Genre You DON'T Like
MxM or FxF, Libertine, horror, High-school, slice of life
Lazeration Lazeration


Edrich Appleleaf's eyebrows rose as he looks Thandal over.
"Highly unusual, you know," he grumbles. "I am not a lender by rule so the fact that anyone owed me money...But your father's name carried weight and I'd hoped by making him a loan I might gain some credibility... it is not a mistake I will make again." His eyes seem to take everything in at once, as if he's trying to read intent in Your expression.

A moment later he pushes the bag back and reaches over to make a tick mark in a ledger. "Consider the debt paid." He announces, "Your family must have other creditors to pay off. Use the coin for them." He's no longer looking at you, instead writing in another ledger that's open on the table. "In exchange don't start any violence with any further business you have on my property."

Applo Applo Sail Sail Mobley Eats Mobley Eats

The entrance to the speakeasy is hidden in a store room which is currently occupied by Corella, Shadow, and what appears to Gora to be a well dressed stranger and a very drunk woman leaning on Shadow's frail arm. Gora, you arrive just in time to hear the stranger's speech to Corella including the attempt to name drop Thurin. A red bearded dwarf who you know frequently works in the establishment below.

Corella's eyes narrow as she turns to great the man who just walked into her storeroom uninvited nearly hitting her in the nose with the door as she reached to open it for Shadow to help the drunk lady out.

"Uh-oh," the young Tabaxi whispers back as Sylva quietly slurs her warning. Answering back in the cant that seems to a jumble of worse, sounds, nonsense, and head nods he manages "Thurin's downstairs and that's not the type of people he usually brings in...." and you notice, Sylva, that the boy's eyes tick to the white spider you just pointed out.

"I doubt," Corella starts coolly, "that you are one of Thurin's friends." Her hand jabs out reaching for your ear, Diero. But the illusion and your actually body are not exactly the same and instead of getting the lobe her fingers pass through the edge of the illusion about level with the corner of your jaw. Her fingers close not on flesh, but on the little bit of hair that just reach your jaw.

Her eyes widen and she moves her other hand to grab your shirt before you can get away.
"And just who are you really?

It's suddenly evident that all her attention is focused on this stranger and she has completely forgotten about Shadow and the Drunk woman. Her eyes lite briefly on Gora who's just arrived on the scene as if she expect the half-orc woman to back her up a little.

Elle Joyner Elle Joyner TheQueensGuard TheQueensGuard

Like Gora the children remain entirely focused on the story, only fidgeting a little, and occasionally whispering with excitement. Though they only belong to a few families, and half of them belong to Aubrey, one of the parents motions to Lucy for a basket where they can put a few coins to show their appreciation to the Bard.

That done, Lucy leans across the bar to tap Cook's arm. "Hey, I know it's a good story and all, but you might want to be getting back to cooking before Mrs. Corella notices that your break's running long." Her smile is kind though. The staff of the Ox and Lamb look out for each other.

The Wanderer The Wanderer

The older gentleman looks up at you, Jon Jon, and gestures for you to take the chair across from his as he swallows his last bite.
"How may I help you, My son?" His voice is deep but gravely, as if his throat is sore or had been injured at some point.

The book is laid polity aside on the table next to a plate of bread, and the spoon returned gently to the stew bowl to scoop up another mouthful. The intent is clear. He is more than willing to hear what you have to say, but he does intend to finish his meal before it goes cold.
 

Elle Joyner

I guess...
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Smut. Romance as a main plot. Horror. Grimdark.
FIN

"For three days and three nights, the farmer waited in the forest, watching the tower.” Fin continued, her eyes shifting among the children, almost as if she were blissfully unaware of anything at all happening around her beyond their wide, intrigued visages. And truly, she was entranced in spinning her spoken word - to the point that as she basket began to circulate, she was almost utterly oblivious to it.

“In his mind, he imagined all manner of terror inside. A troll, overgrown and hair, or a dragon, fierce and formidable, with gnashing teeth and spouts of fire for breath… perhaps a great and powerful lich king, enslaving the souls of his desperate victims. What unspeakable evil had ensnared his nightingale could only be the most fearsome and horrid of monstrosities. Fear clutched at him, deeply rooted in the heart of him… and for some time, he wondered if he was simply too weak… too cowardly to strike. But every morning her voice would ring out clear and lovely, and renew within him the desperate desire to see her freed of her alabaster cage. Upon the morning of the fourth day, however, he heard a new voice… that of her captor, the witch. For another year had passed, and as was tradition, the witch came to remind the girl of why she had been so imprisoned. Cruelly, she mocked the girl… reminding her of why she had been trapped away, in the tower and behind the mask. Tears were the nightingale's melody that day, soft and agonizing.

The farmer could stand no such song. Fashioning a weapon from a sharp, loose board in the cart, he freed his mount and sent the mule off along the path, then piling straw and leaves, he set fire to it all before making his way to the base of the tower.

From the window in the princess’s chamber, the witch could see the black smoke rising from the forest, and fear struck deep. Certain she had been discovered, anticipating the arrival of the king’s forces, the witch gathered her book of spells and races to the secret door in the tower’s side. As she stepped out of the tower, she was met by the confusing sight of a burning cart in an otherwise empty forest. Met by the vision of the beautiful and terrible woman, the farmer nearly forgot himself before realizing opportunity had presented him with the answer to his complex riddle. How to get inside. While she investigated the inferno, the farmer dashed through the door and feet barely touching the slick stone, he raced up the stairs, raced to the chamber at the top of the tower.

Upon crossing the threshold, he saw before him a woman as delicate and exquisite as her song. For several seconds, he could say nothing, stunned into silence as he stared at the porcelain mask that shrouded her face. Fear glistened behind her eyes, but also curiosity, and her voice as she spoke trembled both with trepidation and wonder.

“Who are you?” She asked her champion.

His answer was curt… not for any manner of indifference, but because he could think of no charming or witty answer befitting the creature of majesty before him, “Just a farmboy, miss… You seemed in need of rescue.”

“...Very much, sir.” The maiden replied, and in her gaze he could see the crystal beads of tears forming. Without thinking, without really meaning to, the farmer stepped towards the girl and clasped her hands, soft and perfect, in his own rough, clumsy mitts.

“Don’t cry.” He pleaded, softer now, “It will be alright, now. Only we must hurry. Your mask, can you take it off? You’ll need to see.”

Suddenly, her hands flew from his grasp, covering her face with a sharp, uneasy gasp, “Oh… oh no, you mustn’t.”

“...Why ever not?” The farmer asked.

“It is a curse… a terrible curse. I’m afraid it’s why I was locked away in this awful place. The witch says without the mask… to look upon my face would bring death.” Came her answer.

“Death? How… how can that be possible.”

“The woman who keeps the tower says that I am hideously deformed… A face so ugly, it stops the heart with but a glance.”

A laugh escaped the farmer - he was unable to help himself, you see, as he looked the princess over with incredulity, “...Forgive me, Miss. I do not mean to laugh, but surely… surely this woman has lied to you. I can see in your eyes… there is nothing hideous about you. And no one with a voice so enchanting could stop a man’s heart… only steal it.”

In truth… the princess had wondered herself if the woman could be lying. It seemed odd, after all, that she would remember none of what the warnings held and in that moment, something about the farmer’s words… about his honesty and his sincerity and something in the kindness of his manner made her desperate to believe. It was for this reason, perhaps, that she did not stop him when he reached up to pull the mask from her face…”
 
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Applo

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Once Shadow lead Sylva through the door to the kitchen and it had swung shut behind the pair, she stood up fully so that her weight was off the young Tabaxii before leaning into their ear.

“The man that I saw see you had a different face and clothes but that same weird spider.” Dropping Cant for common was a risk but one that could be mitigated by just plain old fashioned whispering. It was a pain in the ass to get convey a complicated thought in a language of misdirection and double speak. “Maybe they are working together?”

Striding over to where the kitchen door met with the public portion of the inn, Sylva pulled the door open a crack and peered through into the main drinking hall.

“It was that man ther-” Staring along the room to where the bard who was still enthralling the the other patrons of the tavern with her tall tales, Sylva’s eyes came to rest on an empty chair. “He was sitting right behind next to that bard before.”

For a few moments Sylva was silent as she stared at the empty chair and tried to work out what was going on. Where had the man she seen gone? Why did they and this other person both seem to have the same weird spider.

“I think… I think the person that saw you is the same person trying to get downstairs and they are hiding their real face with magic?”​

 
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Lazeration

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thandal.jpgThandal Crostwyn

For a brief moment, Thandal's gaze drifted between the sack of coin and Edrich's disinterested face before the bounty hunter reached over to retrieve his money. "Suit yerself," he said roughly as he secured the pouch to his belt. With that, it was a simple matter of seeing himself out of this filthy den. He took special care to peer around and get a look at the faces of the various patrons present within the speakeasy before he sauntered his way back over to the reception desk to retrieve his weapons, once again speaking nary a word as he rearmed himself and ascended back to the main floor.

Upon reemerging at the top of the stairs, Thandal made no effort to be discreet about his leaving the secret entrance; rather, he moved slowly, his crossbow bouncing on his shoulder ever so slightly with each footfall as he migrated back towards the tavern; first through the storeroom, stepping around Corella and the posh-looking stranger she was currently scolding, and then through the kitchen. However, his path was impeded as he saw Shadow and an unknown half-elf woman peering through the doorway leading into the dining area. Finally, the bounty hunter stopped just short of the where the pair were obviously looking out for something--or someone--and cleared his throat rather loudly.
 
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Sail

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"I...I'm sorry ma'ma, did I forget to introduce myself? I'm Kallen Highthunder, I moved to Sidon about a year ago,Thurin was a drinking buddy of mine before that point, he told me all about this place one night in a drunken stupor. Decided I'd come back to pay 'im a visit, and he told me I might be able to get some, how do you say this in Common...uhm, good boughts? Fine buys? No... good purchases."

Deep down, Diero felt his body quaking. Energy built up behind his fingertips-the ends of his coatsleeves began to soak with water as moisture built at his fingertips. If need be, he wanted to summon a fog cloud and run.

Simba still sat upon the doorframe, watching the situation unfold. Diero commanded him to go back out to the main lobby and watch for any possible intruders. "You've got this buddy, I believe in you. I'll mingle with you once I've found my way downstairs," he thought to his friend.
 
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The Wanderer

Mysterious Stranger
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Give-No-Fucks
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Both.
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Any.
Jon Jon

The young monk took a seat offered by the holy-man.

He'd wait for the man to finish his bite and question before asking. "I have a question, as a while ago. A man wearing similar robes to you came to our monastery talking about things that worried me. But I don't know who exactly to talk to, so I came over here to perhaps seek guidance or have you relay the message." Jon Jon said, ending with a bow of his head.

"I also apologize for interrupting your meal, sir."

He did cast a side glance over to the lady continuing her story. From what he could gather, it was about a farmer and a maiden cursed. Quite a nice story. And it did warm his heart seeing so many enthralled by the story. But not to seem rude, he returned his gaze back to the cleric for his answer.

Falcon Falcon
 
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Falcon

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Aggressive, can be passive depending on point in RP.
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MxM or FxF, Libertine, horror, High-school, slice of life
Elle Joyner Elle Joyner

"And what did he see!" one little girl exclaims at just that moment. "What she pretty or did the witch do something!"
"be quiet," her brother hushes her. "I want to hear the story!"
Both quiet as their mother holds a finger to her lips and crooks an eyebrow. A moment later all ears are back at attention, listening to Fin.



Lazeration Lazeration Applo Applo Sail Sail Mobley Eats Mobley Eats TheQueensGuard TheQueensGuard

Corella's eyes narrow even further this time, as You continue the deception but at the mention of a trip to Sidon her fingers un-clench from your shirt. "Aye, I believe Thurin did make a trip down that way last year...." She still eyes you suspiciously, "No illusions though. Understand? Everyone wears their real faces here, and don't lie to me, I know you got one on ye." She releases the hand holding Diero's hair or what would be the illusionary ear.
Corella's eyes dart to Gora again as the monk sips her drink and watches. Though she hasn't gotten involved yet Corella seems comforted by the girl's presence.

During all this Shadow moves to lead Sylva through the door to get to the kitchen, brushing past the wizard in the process, letting her lean on him in charade until the got to the door between the kitchen and the common room before stopping as she indicated. "I agree," he whispers back, "Mrs. Corella's hand wasn't holding that ear quite right. But even if he does get down stairs she'll make him wear his real face. As to who he is... I have an idea how to find out if you wanna come outside with me a moment." There's a mischievous spark in the tabaxi's eyes as he nods toward the back door.

A moment later Shadow has to step back as the kitchen door starts to swing inward letting cook back in.
And then jumps slightly as Thandal clears his throat.

"Oh! oh I- I'm sorry sir!" the little Tabaxi stammers hurrying to get out of the way. "I didn't m-mean to get in your way. Was j-just watching all the people." It was a very good act.



The Wanderer The Wanderer

"I am Father Callahan. and you say this visitor wore similar robes to me?" the older gentleman begins confused as you, Jon jon, sit down.

As you look closer you can now see the symbol he wears on a chain around his neck. It's not silver, but steel or a similar metal and shaped in the form of a simplified fleur de lis. That combined with the grey robes and red mantle tell you that this man is a follower of Anua, a neutral goddess of death. You remember hearing that she is responsible for easing the passage between this life and the next for everyone.
You also remember that your visitor had worn brown robes and with a symbol like the one the bard was wearing, a harp. They had been a follower of Cealah.

"Do you mean they also were a follower of the goddess? Which I must admit would be refreshing to hear as we are not a large following, or do you mean they were a fellow cleric of some kind?" Callahan's smile is kind as he takes another bite, the wrinkles around his eyes more prominent in the flickering lamp light.

"Either way I would be happy to hear your story, my son. You've obviously come a long way to tell it to someone, and while I cannot say I would have the clout to pass on any messages, perhaps I will be able to give you the guidance you seek and direct you to the correct person.
 

Lazeration

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thandal.jpg
Thandal merely stepped past the two figures at the door, keeping his wits about him as he did so to ensure that his belongings remained his, to the best of his ability. Moving through to the dining room, Thandal found an empty table, near where the lady bard had a gathering of children listening to the rather elaborate story she was spinning. Propping his crossbow against the leg of the table, he attempted to flag down one of the barmaids; he needed something to eat after such a long day.
 
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Spinning on the spot, Sylva was taken aback to see the soldier she had thought lost to an evening's gambling and revelry in the speakeasy staring at her. Why was he back already? As Shadow gave a spluttering apology to the man, Sylva’s eyes once again raked him up and down resting just for the merest fraction of a moment on the still full-looking coin purse on their belt. At her side, one of Sylva’s hands slipped into a pocket and closed around the hand of a short but very sharp little blade. She’d expected to maybe do this later but now was fine. Shadow wasn’t going to be the only cut-purse to earn something tonight.

The actual moment of the snatch was over in the blink of an eye. The way the man pushed past Sylva and Shadow showed he had enough sense to realise that something was off about them but his eyes were slower than Sylva’s hands. In a moment where the soldier was watching the tabaxii, the half-elf struck, the hand with the hidden little blade slashing the purse's strings while the other hand steadied that bag before silently sequestering it in one of Sylva’s pockets so quickly that neither its owner or Shadow appeared to notice.

Sylva watched the soldier from the doorway until they sat down at a table and summoned one of the inn’s staff. The moment where they might discover their loss was coming and it was probably a good idea to get out of site. Fortunately, she knew just how to do that. Green eyes cut towards shadow.

“So how do we see who that strange person with the spider really is? You know another way downstairs?”​

 
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Elle Joyner

I guess...
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Probably a mix. When I GM I tend to prefer mostly aggressive, but with input from my players. I like to offer ideas and receive them. I don't like when people just take the reins and run with it though...especially in a 1x1.
Favorite Genres
Political intrigue, fantasy, futuristic, sci fi lite, superheroes, historical fiction, alternate universes. Smittings of romance, but only as side plot.
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Anime. Ever. Just not my jam.

Smut. Romance as a main plot. Horror. Grimdark.
FIN

"Oh my darlings… That is the best part. It was all a clever and horrible scheme of the witch, you see. To keep the princess obedient to her will. For as you might have guessed… beneath that jewel entrapped mask, she had grown only more lovely. To a prince, perhaps, or a mighty lord, or even a knight, she might be quite beautiful… To the farmer, her radiance was unsurpassed. Awestruck, his knees could scarcely hold his weight (and for a farmer he was rather towering) and for a moment, our princess feared the worst. As tears came to her eyes, an apology to her lips, the farmer reached a hand, quivering and raw, to touch a curl, drifting down the side of the maiden's cheek.

"My lady.," Began the gentle farmer, "If you are deformed... I am the devil's son… For never have my eyes seen such beauty. Indeed, my heart feels weaker… though I trust that is because you hold it in your graceful fingers..."

"...Who are you?" The princess asked. But a sound, horrible and ghastly stole his chance to answer her. A wicked shriek tore the air asunder, as the door burst inward, revealing the witch's fury.

Instinct brought the farmer to stand before his maiden, mask in hands. As the witch rose her fingers outstretched, jet black rays burst from each tip. With a yelp, the farmer lifted his arms, mask clutched like a shield.

And that, my clever little ones, is when the most extraordinary thing happened. The jewels on the mask, you see, were struck, just exactly. And as I live and breathe… Rebounded on the wicked woman, herself. In an instant, ash became her form and with a horrendous cry, she vanished from the world. In an instant, by her own cruel creation… she was undone and with her, the confinement of the princess.

...They naturally wasted little time hanging around after that. The farmer took the princess to his donkey and setting her upon it, the pair road into the village, and away from the horror they’d left behind.

I’d like to say that they were never separated after… That she went home and demanded of her father that she marry her heroic, gallant savior. I’d like to say that theirs was a love that only ever grew and grew, and spread far and wide into the kingdom they ruled together. That they lived long and happy lives…

And so… I think I shall. Because no story should end any other way… should it?” Her smile widened as she leaned back a little, giving the children a firm nod, "There you have it..."
 
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Sail

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Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Scifi, Magical
“Very well ma’am. Was worried you’d judge me for my appearance, I don’t look quite like the type Thurin would befriend.” Diero took a deep breath, holding the air until he felt a chill run down his spine-the magical energy surrounding his body now felt like an intricate chain mesh. He pressed on the intricate weave; his false flesh began to change in an instant. At first, the color of the robes became more muted; then, the three dimensional illusion shifted to a two-dimensional drawing that momentarily hung in the air. With a snap of his fingers, the image faded from existence, reappearing on the piece of paper sitting back at his table.

Diero walked ahead a few feet, taking in the scents of all the various foods that surrounded him; "I really need to start getting out more often. Maybe a job in a tavern would do me well. Could make tons a cash with the bit of magic I know. Perfect roasts with my fire, maybe some fun, twice-a-day puppet shows…"

After turning his small knife and quarterstaff over to Thurin- Diero felt a momentary sense of sorrow for using him as a pawn in a lie- he headed down the stairs to the speakeasy. Oddly enough, his primary thought was how the swirly patterns in the wood looked like cinnamon within french toast. He chuckled to himself, glancing around the room for someone who looked like they had “authority”. He had a question to posit...
 
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The Wanderer

Mysterious Stranger
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays
Writing Levels
Give-No-Fucks
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Both.
Favorite Genres
Any.
Jon Jon

The young monk did his best to remember what exactly the cleric at the temple said. When he did, he would tell the cleric before him what he remembered. "A cleric showed up at our monastery, claiming that a Jam-me-son Galrick was being sent to here to find a way in for assassins." The pronunciation of the name was odd as Jon Jon had difficulty remembering how the cleric said it himself and his own limited knowledge of words kinda hindered him.

"While the others didn't believe him, my faith and morals forbade me from ignoring a plea for help. So if you can, please point me in the right direction." Part of him began to doubt his choice as the possibility of a dead end grew ever closer, and the personal mission being a disaster.

So he waited with bated breath.

Falcon Falcon
 

Falcon

Adventure Finder
Original poster
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Chat Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts a Week
My Usual Online Time
I have a shifting work schedule, so My online times will be random.
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Prestige, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Aggressive, can be passive depending on point in RP.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, scifi, futuristic modern, fantasy modern, Action/adventure, Mystery, Fan-based,
Genre You DON'T Like
MxM or FxF, Libertine, horror, High-school, slice of life
Lazeration Lazeration
As you wave, Thandal, Lucy sees you. As she has no current patrons of her own (most drinkers having gone downstairs) moves out from behind the bar to see if she can help as the other servers all seem to busy with other patrons, or in the kitchen collecting trays of food.

"High, Darling, What can I get you?" You've been a patron of the establishment long enough to know that Lucy calls all the regulars "Darling" or similar, as they cater to the sort of clientele that prefer such familiarity. "We got our usual Ale, Beer, and Wine selections, and for dinner Cook has cooked up an excellent pot of stew. We also have roasted potatoes and several toppings options; and fresh baked bread with butter, jam, or both if you like.


Elle Joyner Elle Joyner
About this time the crowd that had gathered around Fin begins to cheer at the happy ans satisfying ending of the story. In fact they liked it so well that Audrey, Corella's daughter, pulls her husbands hat off his head and begins to pass it around to all the patrons who had been listening in order to collect a tip for the bard. Many, even those who had not appeared to have been listening, ad a few coins in. The merchants in the corner appear to have been particularly generous. When she brings it back to you the hat contains 15 gold, 48 silver, and 20 copper.

"Keep up telling stories like that and I'm sure you'll see more. Patrons will be coming and going all night." Aubrey offers with a wink as she hands the coin over, before collecting her children and ushering them out.

As you turn you get just barely within earshot of the monk and Cleric talking at a quieter corner of the room. Just in time to hear the monk say "my faith and morals forbade me from ignoring a plea for help."


The Wanderer The Wanderer
As you share your story with Father Callahan his eyebrows raise. "Assassination is a heavy accusation indeed," he murmurs. "Do you have any idea of the target?" He watches your face closely, his spoon forgotten in your bowel. "It may make a difference in who we tell. This city has several factions and contacting one over another may depend on who exactly this news directly affects."


Sail Sail
As you look around the room downstairs there are a number of patrons your eyes fall across. A heavy dwarf in chair with a blonde bushy beard who seems to be debating with his eleven companion about how tensions at the boarder will affect trade, a halfling in the corner table looking like he's counting money and working on account books, A Dark skinned sun elf who seems like she's helping a old gnome examine some gems, and a number of mixed folk playing cards, including a blue scaled dragonborn.

Ale flows more freely down here thanks to Thom the Barkeep, and a dark haired pair of serving girls who might be sisters. There are several card tables set up, a few between patrons, but also a couple official dealers kept employed by the tavern. One a Half-orc older in years with white streaking his grey hair and an ugly scar across one eye, a blond half half on the younger side with his hair cropped short, and a red-haired female dwarf who seems to almost perch in her chair.


Applo Applo
"No not downstairs," Shadow whispers tugging on your sleeve, Sylva, "but there's a back door next to the kitchen fireplace. If we go outside i got his belt pouch. Maybe he's got something inside that will tell us about him. Mama Corella's always be kind to me... me and my friends. feeding us and stuff. If he's gonna cause trouble I wanna know who he is. And... and I won't feel so bad about thieving at the tavern. We're not supposed to you know. The crime lords all agreed on that."

He keeps his voice low, stopping when he thinks someone might hear, and shifting in between Thieve's Cant and common.


Mobley Eats Mobley Eats TheQueensGuard TheQueensGuard
"Well, we have a lot of strange folks here today," Corella sounds almost exasperated as she stares after the stranger going through the secret entrance she showed him. "Cook, my dear, I think I'll have a bowl of that wonderful stew you made and some tea to calm my nerves. Gora, dear, you're welcome to join me, but Ed's down stairs and I reckon you're anxious to get paid. If you do head down will you do me a favor and also keep an eye on our new guest? I know you're more than capable of defending yourself."
 
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Mobley Eats

Consume. Smother your doubts. Be fulfilled.
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Primarily Prefer Female, No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
A bit of both, lean more towards passive.
Favorite Genres
Modern, Romance, Fantasy, Scifi, Drama, Action.
Genre You DON'T Like
Horror, Mystery (I like them, just not good at it)
Gora | Location: Speakeasy | Interactions: Pip (Diero) Sail Sail

"Hm? Whazzit?" Gora scratched her belly through the fabric of her tunic while lowering her gourd. She wore the face of confusion and content, but she had picked up the general gist of what just went down. Long story short, somebody wanted access to the good ole Speakeasy, Corella was (and still is) feeling uneasy about the whole thing, but eventually when him down. And now she wanted to keep an eye on the fella...

Mmkay. Fine by her. Could be a new friend, after all, and Gora wasn't gonna turn that down. Err--that and the money. Pa really needed that.

Grinning, she nodded at the smaller woman, "I's be full on ale and fruits of the world, Corella! I'll pass fer now 'n keep three sharp eyes on... on..." Gora squinted. What was his name again? Eh... She forgot. Or just didn't know at all. Let's go with Pip! "On Pip. Don'cha worry. Enjoy enough stew for both of us, yeah?" Throwing back another swig, she merrily entered the Speakeasy behind Pip, sticking a tad too close for comfort to the man and humming a tune that was faintly similar to the song of that talented storyteller.

Getting bored in record time, Gora gave a gentle nudge to Pip's shoulder and by gentle, the narrator meant not so gentle, but the half orc failed to notice her slip in control. "Got good ole Corella mighty flustered up there, Pip! Was kind excitin', in a way! Done near made me chug all's me bottle wit'out thinking!" Good thing she had a second one! Then, Gora leaned in a bit closer, her warm cheeks and wide goofy grin on full display. "I'm Gora. Wha's yer name, Pip?" She knew she would run into Ed soon enough, but squeezing in an introduction before then wouldn't hurt nobody's hide.
 
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Applo

Beautiful like a Forest Fire
DONATING MEMBER
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female

Crime Lords. Sylva rolled her eyes. She didn’t rob people in the inn because it was a good place to scout for targets. Well, she did rob people in the inn most of the time because it was a good place to scout for targets. Do it too much and at best people would become paranoid about their possessions, at worst they would start pointing blades at people they had seen in the inn. No, it was better to cut a full purse in a crowded street where you could disappear by walking in the other direction or even just put a knife to someone's throat from behind in a dark alley rather then ruin a good hunting ground. Crime Lords didn’t figure into Sylva’s thinking at all. Rich twats who stole from people poorer than them and acted like some twisted kind of lawmen. Fuck em.

Leading the pair through the door in the back of the kitchen, Sylva looked back and forth, scanning for anyone who might be lurking where she didn’t want them to be. The alleyway appeared to be empty. There was noise from the stables and the sound of people going about their business from the street out front but in the alley, everything was quiet. Motioning for Shadow to follow her, Sylva led the Tabaxi next to a group of near overflowing bins which would provide an element of extra cover. She ignored a sewer grate, the bins were a little excessive for looking through a stolen purse. The sewers would be overkill.

“Let's see what you got and who this posh twat bag is then.”​