The tall human steps aside as the heavy wooden door rebounds off the wall and crashes closed. Her green eyes narrow as she surveys virtually empty room. Tables and chairs cover the floor with a long, U shaped bar off to the left. A fire crackles in the center wall, lending warmth and a cheerful atmosphere to an otherwise dark and run down establishment.
"Yep, this'll do," she mutters, scraping unruly black hair from her face. She heads for a table in the corner.
Dropping her pack on an empty, scarred chair, she swings the other chair around and straddles the back. She spies the barkeep at the back and whistles, her hand raised. "Yo! I'll take ya's strongest, neat, with a tall glass of water." At the nod, she turns her attention to her pack.
"I know I got somethin' in here somewhere that'll pay for this..." She starts to dig within, piling fraying baskets and bone dust on the table in front of her.
A pair of slender elves sit in the corner. Both extraordinarily pale of skin, the male has long hair of pure white, while his female companion's locks are jet black and cut into straight bangs with a bun. They eye the human, and whisper to each other briefly.
"Greetings, lady. Perhaps we could cover your drink while you rest find your purse at your leisure. Vigil knows we have very little of that currently, why waste it searching through a pack?"
He nods at the bartender, who refills the elves' wine glasses. His counterpart pulls another chair up to their table and offers it to the human. "Please, join us," she says in a strange accent. "I am Jirenn, a Priestess of Tavril, and this is my ... ", here she pauses and chuckles, " ... great-grandson, Alirrin. Bore da."
Lyrima frowns and stares a moment at the elves. Shrugging, she appears to come to an internal decision, sweeps all the debris back into her pack and moves to their table. She grabs the offered chair and swings it around, straddling once again, her back to a wall.
Nodding to the barkeep as he brings her two drinks, she offers a wide smile toward the elves, "Lyrima, Lyrima Vakhar, newly Ascended 'n ...uh, yeah." She thrusts her hand at the female elf and allows it to dangle a moment, before retracting it uncertainly. "Err, are ya..I mean, do ya...uh." She turns to her drink and tosses it back. Her subsequent coughing fit and sips of water occupy her attention.
The two elves smile at Lyrima as she introduces herself. Alirrin asks, "So, how are you handling the voices? Or do you hear them? I can hear my brother's voice as clearly as if he were standing over my shoulder, guiding my arrows ... the other, he is more subdued, more like thoughts beneath the surface ... "
Alirrin's voice fades as he seems to disappear into his own head.
The flickering shadows thrown by the fireplace seem to melt as a young woman with silver-blond hair pulled back into a pony tail appears to step out of the wall. She gives a lop-sided grin to the three sitting and drinking. "Long as yer buyin' drinks, why not buy mine?" She raises a slender hand to catch the server's attention. "A dwarven stout and whiskey chaser, if ya please." Jezerai takes a seat at the table with the others and holds out a callused hand. "Name's Jezerai Silvermoon, most pleased ta meet ya all!"
Lyrima smiles in relief as Jezerai introduces herself and grabs the proffered hand before the elves can react.
"Lyrima, Lyrima Vakhar!" The human pumps the dainty hand with great enthusiasm, "Newly Ascended 'n...uh..yeah."
Turning back to Alirrin, "I dunno what'cha talkin' about with voices. I ain't hearin' no voices. Well, cept Beast. Sometimes I can hear Beast, but those ain't real thoughts. Not really, anyways. It's hard to explain."
Her black brows knit as she considers trying to put into words her connection to her pet.
Stumbling through the doors, the mage makes her way to the bar, leaving a trail of miscellaneous findings in her wake. Dropping her satchel to the floor, its contents spilling about, she takes a deep breath in before politely placing her order.
"Ale. Here. Now."
As she waits patiently, her eyes wander to the company that surrounds her. An aura of warmth resonating from each.
After retrieving her dropped belongings, she plops back to the bar. Putting her hood up, she hunkers down for some peace.
Perhaps this place could make as good a home as any, so long as the elves don't get all chatty.
Quote from: Lyrima on February 21, 2011, 08:47:33 PM
Turning back to Alirrin, "I dunno what'cha talkin' about with voices. I ain't hearin' no voices. Well, cept Beast. Sometimes I can hear Beast, but those ain't real thoughts. Not really, anyways. It's hard to explain."
Her black brows knit as she considers trying to put into words her connection to her pet.
"Ah, well, perhaps it is different among different Ascended. The fact that we are elves might also be a part of it. But I do clearly hear my brother, who fell with me alongside Shyla, helping me with his archery skills. I was never as good as he was with a bow." Alirrin again gets that faraway look, but then smiles and looks around the rapidly filling tavern.
"This particular establishment is a bit off the beaten path, which is why we selected it for our evening's rest. I am curious what brings everyone here at this time." He looks expectantly at the others ...
-----------
(( OOC - This is an opening for people to give a reason for coming together. As we talked about in the other thread, you might have been sent here by one of the Guardian leaders, or by the Vigil, or just random chance. Alirrin was sent here by Shyla and told to watch for others arriving, but isn't revealing that just yet, wanting to see what the others say.
Quote from: Noa on February 21, 2011, 09:01:02 PM
Perhaps this place could make as good a home as any, so long as the elves don't get all chatty.
Too late! :angel:
))
The door opens...yet again, quietly this time, admitting yet another elf, who closes it quietly behind her and makes her way to an open stool at the bar. This one is elvish in physical appearance only...her clothing is decidedly Mathosian-somber in hue, leather pouches festoon her belt and bandolier, a bleached and bone-dry goblin skull hangs suspended from her belt by fine silver chains, and the unmistakable scents of lavender and ozone swirl subtly about her as she sits down.
Her voice is melodic yet decidedly distant as she holds a hand up to the barkeep. "Silverwood Dark, please," she murmurs as she slides several coins across the counter. Taking the beverage (and ignoring the returned change), she pivots in her seat, sipping her drink quietly as she absently gazes at the tavern patrons, her free hand absently drumming the goblin skull in her lap.
Jezerai upends the mug of ale, the dark amber-tinted liquid flowing smoothly down her throat, to be followed quickly by the whiskey shot. The ease of motion speaks of much practice in this activity, to be completed by the smooth wipe across her mouth with the back of her hand. "Ah!" She says, with a strong sense of satisfaction "That do be some good stuff. At least the alcohol hasn't changed after twenty years of bein' dead." She looks at the others in the room with a lop-sided grin, her green eyes glinting at odds with her genial expression. "I ain't quite figgered out how I came ta be in all this exalted company. Ascended!" She snorts. "I were just a mercenary captain doin' my bit for a spot o' gold when I found myself dead on tha battlefield. I were as surprised as tha next guy when them winged fellas hauled me back from tha Underworld and gave me a kick in tha boot ta git me goin' agin." Jezerai motions to the waiter and twirls her finger signaling for another round. "As fer voices, well I bin hearin' em for years anyway so ... " She shrugs.
"Yanno..."
The raven locks are scraped back again, "I dunno why I came in here. I was just walkin' by 'n suddenly realized I was powerful thirsty 'n this here seemed the exact right spot." She shrugs, clearly not terribly concerned. She smiles in recognition of Jezerai's story, nodding agreeably. "Yep, I was daid, now I'm alive. Had all these here folks with wings tellin' me to talk to this one then the next. When it came time for me to head out and kill me some foes, I kept dyin' aGAIN. It was PAINful. Wasn't till I realized I could call on Beast," a huge happy smile crosses her face, "that I stopped all that dyin'. I ain't never gonna go fightin' again without my Beast."
She turns hopeful eyes on the elves and Jezerai. "Any of ya wanna meet him? He comes when I howl...!" She takes a deep breath, ready to let loose her call.
Quote from: Lyrima on February 22, 2011, 03:21:58 PM
She turns hopeful eyes on the elves and Jezerai. "Any of ya wanna meet him? He comes when I howl...!" She takes a deep breath, ready to let loose her call.
As Lyrima prepares to call her "Beast", Alirrin and Jirenn both go wide eyed, and throw their hands over their large, sensitive ears.
Quote from: Quince on February 22, 2011, 03:26:16 PM
Quote from: Lyrima on February 22, 2011, 03:21:58 PM
She turns hopeful eyes on the elves and Jezerai. "Any of ya wanna meet him? He comes when I howl...!" She takes a deep breath, ready to let loose her call.
As Lyrima prepares to call her "Beast", Alirrin and Jirenn both go wide eyed, and throw their hands over their large, sensitive ears.
The skull-toting elf woman watches Lyrima inhale, and quips "My husband was much the same," as she releases her drink to have it hover in midair as she smoothly puts her fingers in her ears.
hHoOOOOwwWWLLLllllll
Lyrima smiles in delight as her beast appears before her, adoring eyes pinned on the Ranger.
As the beast appears in the middle of the tavern, Alirrin and Jirenn do their best to keep their drinks from spilling while at the same time clearing their heads of the loud howl.
Jirenn recovers first, and says, "Very ... impressive ... Lyrima. Thank you for introducing us. Now that we've met, could it perhaps remain outside? We were hoping to continue the conversation, and it seems to be ... salivating on my table ... "
Sopping up the spilled ale, Noa kicks herself for landing in this tavern. That stupid pile of rocks picked this one and she had been way to tired to argue. Thinking back, letting her element pick the tavern wasn't the best idea. He doesn't even drink. Ugh.
Oh well, fingering the lump on her forehead, she resigns to the fact that this was not the worst thing that's happened today. So what if it smells like wet dog. It was dry and warm and she didn't feel as if anyone wanted to kill her here. Not yet anyway, but then again, she hadn't really even introduced herself yet.
"Put that creature out, will ya!"
She clears her throat and puts on her polite face, a strained smile, but a good attempt.
"I'm Noa."
She nods, satisfied with her contribution to the conversation, and flipping her hood back up, returns to her ale.
The 'bone woman' takes her fingers out of her ears gingerly, plucking her glass from where it hovers in front of her, once again letting her other hand rest on the goblin skull attached to her belt.
"And I am Lilica. Charmed..."
She falls silent again, and like the soul on the stool a few paces away, is satisfied she has fulfilled what etiquette demands following a bellowing animal summons and an in-tavern pet show.
Jezerai shakes her head. "Rangers!"
Lyrima tears happy eyes from her adoring pet and scampers to shake, with great enthusiasm, both Noa's and Lilica's hands, whilst saying, "Lyrima, Lyrima Vakhar, newly Ascendended 'n uh...." Beast nudges her from behind, "This here's Beast. He's my best friend!"
After introducing herself, Lyrima drops to a crouch, crooning into the beast's face, rubbing him about the ears and snout. She glances up to find the wide concerned elven eyes pinned on her, drinks in hand and it dawns on her that someone had asked her to put her Beast outside. Before she can protest that where SHE is HE needs to be welcomed, Beast solves the issue by marching to the door and looking over his shoulder at her. She chatters happily to him as she opens the door and stands in the sill, waving and calling out admonishments.
"'n don't wander too far 'n don't chew anyone's pack 'n be back afore dawn, ya hear??" The ranger stands, framed by the doorway, waving as her Beast picks his way down the path and around the corner.
Lilica smiles faintly at the spirited handshake, her eyes glinting with amusement as the ranger admonishes her pet to behave while on his own.
"I suppose it's a plus to have a companion who is not too...out of place...in polite company. Not that I'd know, mind you."
She lets her vigorously-shaken hand fall back to drumming the goblin skull, her smile widening slightly as its eyes flicker a weird green-orange...ever so slightly. "Hubby was never much for polite company when he was alive...and he's much worse these days. So I let him stay in here and brood unless I really need him. He never liked goblins much, so this is...appropriate, I think..."
Above the tavern, the inn maintains rooms for weary travelers. With a loud crash, a door near the top of the stairwell is thrown open and a young man's drunken voice can be heard, "I told you Askari! I've got a barred red cock vane and white hens!"
A woman's voice, more soberly (and quietly) answers with a chuckle, "Excuse me?"
The young man heaves a sigh of frustration, "My arrow fletching! A red barred cock and two white hens. You know darn well that wasn't MY arrow stuck in yer bum after that last rift ruckus! And I won't stop drinkin', til you apologize for the slander!"
"Very well, I'll refrain from impugning your honor further. You're quite drunk enough already. I hold you, and your ummm...fletching, blameless in my recent injury. I'm sorry I teased you," says the woman as they start down the stairway (she doesn't really sound sorry).
A young Mathosian man, dressed in forest-green leathers, rounds the corner at the bottom of the stairwell and notices the recent increase in patrons. He stops and blushes momentarily, then tries to look nonchalant. A tall Mathosian woman in plate comes up behind him and pushes him towards an empty table, "Come along master archer..let's get some food in you."
The leather-clad rogue starts to sheepishly move towards the table, when he recognizes Alirrin and begins grinning like the drunken idiot he appears to be. "Hey! I know that guy! It's my buddy Flop Ears!"
And with that, he leaps up onto the table and begins to sing (loudly and badly):
Doooo... yourrrrr... ears hang low?
Do they wobble to and fro?
Can you tie 'em in a knot?
Can you tie 'em in a bow?
Can you throw 'em o'er your shoulder like a elemental soldier?
Do your ears hang low?
Do your ears stand high?
Do they reach up to the sky?
Do they droop when they are wet?
Do they stiffen when they're dry?
Can you semaphore your neighbor with a minimum of labor?
Do your ears stand high?
Do your ears flip-flop?
Can you use them as a mop?
Are they stringy at the bottom?
Are they curly at the top?
Can you use them for a swatter?
Can you use them for a blotter?
Do your ears flip-flop?
Do your ears stick out?
Can you waggle them about?
Can you flap them up and down as you fly around the town?
Can you shut them up for sure when you hear an awful bore?
Do your ears... stick... OUT.....?
He then belches loudly, slumps to his knees, and passes out.
The young woman rolls her eyes, "My apologies for the interruption sirs and madams. I'll just take him back upstairs to sleep this off."
With that she rolls him onto her shoulders with apparent ease and carries him back up the stairs, occasionally slamming his head into the wall.
Jezerai sings along to the tune with gusto and, when done, upends her second mug of ale, followed swiftly by the shot of whiskey. She twirls a finger over her head, signaling the server to deliver another round.
Alirrin sighs and rolls his eyes. "Anghredadwy."
Jireen chuckles as if she's never heard this particular anthem before. "Oh, Alirrin, relax. Our ears *are* pretty big compared to theirs."
With another sigh, he accepts the round brought by the barkeep and says, "Fine. But they're buying this round." With that he smiles and sits back, and says, "Thus does the saga begin."