A tavern conversation (open)

[Mixxi]

((/ooc I'm curious what our characters' priorities are. This is something that Rafe's struggling with, and I (and he) would welcome some differing perspectives. I'd like to keep this as an exploration of characters rather than a bar brawl *I'm looking at you, Norn* but feel free to go anywhere you want to with it. I'm just noodling.))

The fire was burning low and the last of the revelers had left the tavern, stumbling off through the still warm sands to ships and lodging. Still some customers remained, nursing final drinks and enjoying the moment of rest and safety. The tavern would have already been closed, had the barkeep not fallen asleep behind the counter. Rafe Harkner leaned against the stone mantle and lit a blackened clay pipe. Over two decades of battle damage kept him close to the soothing warmth of the embers.

Scattered toasts rose from tables as bottles steadily emptied. "Confusion to the dragons." "Hoof-rot take the centaurs." "May Ronk's Krewe be sued for patent infringement!"

Harkner drew on his pipe, his eyes lit by the sudden glow. So many enemies. At his post in Queensdale, things had been so much simpler. Burn out the centaurs before they burned us out. But after his disastrous voyage along the Tarnished Coast and the long way back from the jungle, he felt overwhelmed by the number of enemies all around.

"Death to them all," he muttered to himself. "Can we fight so many?"

[Alirrin]

The tall Norn woman has been sitting alone at the corner. Her meal finished, she has been drinking a dark ale. Overhearing the warrior a few seats over, she reaches behind the bar and selects a bottle of amber liquid and two small glasses. She leaves a several coins in the bottle's place, the moves over to join the man.

She pours two shots and hands one to Harkner. "I know not of whom you speak, but if die they must, then you *can* fight them all.  Because you must."

She downs the shot and pours another. "My people live in a harsh land.  We do not ask whether we can do something. The question is only whether we should. If we should, then we will. The important thing is to remember we are not alone. We have kin, we have clan, and when a need is large enough, we have the Great Spirits to support us."

She smiles, and her grey eyes twinkle in the firelight. "But these are somber thoughts for a late night. What puts you in such a mood?  There has been good food, good song, and company this eve. Drink with me, and lift your spirits."

[Jasyn]

An Asura, diminutive even amongst other Asura, was heading toward the exit, pushing a large crate on a levitating cart when he stopped near Harkner and the Norn woman.

He crawled up an empty stool and slammed a pair of vials in front of them.  "Hmph!  Samples o' Doctor Wiffle's Miracle 'angover Elixir.  Guaranteed to make ye forget ye drank too much the night before because ye'll be too focused on an entirely new problem in the morning."

"I don't know why ye be making such a simple question and answer so complicated," he wondered with little sense of irony.

Continuing to glower at the two as if they were overlooking the obvious, Wiffle offered his opinion without hesitation.  "O' course we'll fight them all, and we'll drag it out too!  It's more profitable 'at way.  More profitable, I say!"

"Ye'll be looking to buy yeself an advantage, and 'ere someone will be ready to sell it to ye.  And when some 'apless adventurer inevitably takes an arrow to the knee, I'll be there to anesthetize 'im, yank it out, and sew 'im up using completely experimental and proprietary--but safe (safe, I say!)--procedures wot me lab will be ready and willing to bill 'im for.  And when ye're finally done with one threat, ye'll move on to the next and do it all over again."

Having climbed back down the stool, Wiffle arched his neck upward as he continued to address the two patrons, "So get in there, me boy--and me well-endowed lass," Wiffle's pointed index finger moved from being aimed at Harkner's thigh to the Norn woman's shin to underscore that he was addressing them both, "And show Tyria wot ye be made of!"

Ready to turn away, finally done with his speech, Doctor Wiffle paused to add, "I'll mail ye me bill."

[Catri]

"He's got it right, that one." A human woman said as she leaned against the bar pushing back her leather hood. "Life's all about opportunities, and I intend to grab them when I can find them. Sure, I do the 'wandering hero' thing from time to time. I drift into town looking for a problem that needs fixing and fix it...for a price. Oh, don't look at me like that. did you think all adventurers run a charity?  Everyone has their price, and its not like I take anyone's last copper. If they can't afford to pay in coin they can usually find something to exchange for my services...a bed for the night, a decent meal, something I can sell. I grew up on the streets and I learned the hard way nothing's free. You take care of yourself and your friends and everyone else be damned. That's the bottom line."

With that Iris Alessi woke the bartender to buy an apple, a bowl of soup, and a small loaf of bread from the bartender and left the tavern. She looked around to make sure no one saw her slip the food and several coins to a young boy who had been begging near the tavern all day. "Just this once, kid. Now scram."
             
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A purple Sylvari woman with deep burgundy leaves drifted over to the bar staring aimlessly off into space and humming a tune. She paused along the way to examine items or customers. When she reached the bar she ordered a mug of ale and drank it in one gulp.

"Oh, my! That's interesting! I've never had ale before. Can I have another? I think I have enough coins." Brinda handed the bartender enough coins for the drinks and accepted another mug of ale in return. This time she sipped slowly enjoying the new flavor. "There's just so many new things to explore here. I don't know how I'm going to see all of them. Of course, I need to find Mother's purpose for me,"

Brinda looked contemplatively at a spot on the ceiling for a moment.

"She showed it to me  while I was still in The Dream, but I don't remember very much. It's hazy and slips from my mind like my illusions slip from my enemy's grasp. I remember sometimes...or I think I do...I know I feel drawn to certain places or things. And I know there will be death...wherever death is. I've sent people to it before. I keep learning more and more ways to use phantoms and illusions to send people there, but I don't know where it is. Maybe its just another place I'll explore someday." Brinda paused for a moment staring at her mug then she drained the rest of the ale. A wide smile spread across her face again.

"Oh well, I won't go there today. There are just too many other things to see and do before I go to death, and I just know Mother's plan for me isn't finished yet. Ooohh! What's that?" She sprang to a corner to play with an orange tabby cat that had come down from the second floor of the tavern.
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"That one sure has a lot of energy!" A tall Norn woman said as she brought her mug over for a refill "Anyway, it's good to see someone finding joy in life. Times may be dark, but there are still many things to look froward to like a good mug of ale among friends." Glynna raised her glass to the other two before taking a drink.

"Life's always been full of struggles. It's the battles that make us strong, prove our worth, and teach us lessons to pass down to our children. Why else would we relive them in stories and songs? A worthy fight well fought is something to be proud of. We honor the Spirits and they guide us to victory so we can protect our clan and guard the ancestors until we someday join them. And until then every moment of life is precious, and there are so many good things to enjoy. And now, I think I will enjoy a good night's sleep."

Glynna drank the rest of her ale and walked up the stairs leading to the tavern's guest rooms.
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" Hard work...hard work and determination and intellect." A tiny Asura female sitting on the floor near the fireplace said as she tinkered with a device. Catri brushed a wisp of dark hair behind one of her floppy, light gray ears and looked up. "That's all you need in life. That and a good krewe, of course. I'd be nowhere without mine. Through our work we explore with the Eternal Alchemy and through the Alchemy we are all connected. Since all things are connected it is in our best interest to help others. It's like a giant machine. If one little part is broken the whole machine won't work right. If something is wrong in Lion's Arch it can cause ripples that will be felt in Rata Sum. So I plan to go around this broken world and fix whatever I can. But first I need to fix this."

Catri turned back to the tangle of gears, cogs, and wires in her lap.
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An Elonian woman dressed in the elegant dress of a noble woman sat in a chair near Catri studying a history book. Dhara Sanyal looked up from her book when the Asura finished talking. " Yes, there is much ill in the world, but you can't just run around carelessly trying to fix anything and everything. If you expect to do any good you will need to devote time to careful study and strategic planning. Swords and guns may win a battle, but scholars will win the war."

[Rumze]

"So many leads, so little time!'

I couldn't help saying that as I gazed at the papers laid out in front of me. I had taken break from studying at home, and wandered into a tavern.
Figured food might help, but I just had to bring along some of the missives. Never know if something would suddenly click .

So here I was, hours later , plates of empty food , belt unbuckled , papers all over the table, slightly tipsy. Well maybe not slightly but happily tipsy.

The bartender was still serving ale. Good ale that, hits the spot. But yes still chugging them out to an incredibly varied clientele.

Something about that gave me some peace.

We live in dangerous times but we live in incredibly interesting times.

One of the papers in front of me was a relatively old history of Orr. Before its all into the sea. Besides being human, good culture and fine men, it was notable for constant political and martial strife with the other human nations.

So much had happened since then. People don't care where you're from these days. Well for the most part. There will,always be idiots.

But these times harsh as they were, these times were the times of heroes.

Now if only I could figure out which lead to follow.

To go hunting for new fashion in southern kryta or hang out with the incredibly handsome people above the northern shiver peaks. Or maybe just cultivate good will here in the city , with some of my famous home made banquets . To handsome guests and intellectual guests.

Hmm maybe , perhaps masquerade ball would be the thing.

But what theme ... Hmmmm.

" Clive , my friend ,another ale please if you would! Add it to my tab thanks."

Hmm perhaps, a selection of ales too. Hmm...

[Zemnari]

At a table, a tall slender Slyvari sat. He  had pinkish skin and dark purple leaves that sprouted out his back like faerie wings, his head adorned with spiraled purple horns that stretched to the skies giving him a mischievous look. He looked around at all these strange individuals talking about war and danger and gave out a chuckle.

"I dare say, you lot do seem to worry about too much. What is death? But the start of the next great party. You see everything is a party, when I explore the ruins of Orr, it is a party. When I give my fabulous helping hand to my fuzzy Kodan friends, it is party, when I do battle with giants that wish to maul me with their clubs, I am still at a party, a party with one hell of a dance, but a party nevertheless. And lastly, when you're at a a party, you're at a party. So when you live like that, what is death? What is danger? What and who is your enemy? I don't care...because this is one hell of a party and I intend on being the life of it...


Isnt that right my fuzzy friend Bhaark"



The sylvari glances over at a black and white charr wearing heavy greyish blue armor, the Charr sighs out of defeat.

"Sure, Styl..." he grumbles

The Sylvari smiles, and cocks his head to the side.

"Now now Bhaark, what did we agree on...what are you suppose to call me..."


The charr sighs again and chuggs his gigantic tankard of ale, and quickyl orders another.

" Yes, your Lordship Styl...." he grumbles even less enthusiastically this time