Tavern Archive #1

Astrid listened to Dane's musings on the runes with interest. She could see why his thoughts went down the path they did, and wondered if it was possible that it was the Elder script.

"The oldest of the Elder elves were immortal, and so may have penned thoughts beyond our comprehension. It would still be interesting to pursue this further. See where it might take us."

"Yes, perhaps," she nodded.

For a few moments she was silent, taking in some of the runes and comparing them to what she knew of the various elven tongues.

"It may not be possible to achieve an exact translation, but the Elder script is the root language of most elven dialects. We should be able to translate it fairly comprehensively."

"Ah, so assuming from the scowl you don't like him much," Sara said with a shrug. "Then again, you don't like much of anyone." She sighed. "Can't you for once enjoy yourself without it causing pain, death, and destruction in your wake, even then something is blowing up, I thought you'd be happy."

"Don't worry about me," Van replied. "I hope you didn't bring me out here to make me happy. Yer wastin' your time. I'd be happier at the bottom of a bottle." He looked to where James was preparing the show. He had quite a few explosives set up. Maybe this will be interesting, Van thought. "I'm only into two things: drinkin' and fightin'," he said to Sara. "And I'm open to tryin' a third, but you better make it worth my while."

* * * *

"Well spoken," Bastian said, bowing, "though I fear friends may be too strong a word in my case. The curse of constant travel I'm afraid."

"You seemed too familiar for strangers is all, I meant no offense," he continued, then, smiling, "and I felt obliged to check that James hadn't caused you undue stress. He seems to be good at that."

"No offense taken," Arwyn said, mirroring his smile. "As for James... he is a strange one, but no harm done. I only hope I did not offend him. I was merely trying to help." She noticed the man was still standing, with his hat and belongings in hand. "Leaving?" she asked. "Not when we've already weathered the worst this party has to offer?" After a near-fight, a wild dance, and various other outbursts, the festivities were finally reaching a serene pace. The music and mood were soothing, to say the least.

And another friendly face made an appearance. Erlend entered the room. He looked incredibly weary, as though the time since their quest had treated him horribly. And his spectral presence was a mess, as if he had just stepped out of a fight and had not yet calmed himself. She had wondered what became of him since his disappearance at the Spire; his current state did not bode well. Poor thing, she thought, wanting to go to him at once, but resisting the urge. She hardly knew him and he didn't look as if he wanted company.

Dane watched her as she looked again over the writing on the page, her eyes analyzing it again.

"It may not be possible to achieve an exact translation, but the Elder script is the root language of most elven dialects. We should be able to translate it fairly comprehensively."

He nodded and smiled.

"Likely." He said. "Fascinating, the intricacies of language."

From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a flash of dark blue, and he turned his eyes to look on it after the huge Derian entered the tavern. Yet another familiar sight; the dark blue cape and the armor beneath it. A Knight of the Crown. He turned his head and caught Dane's eyes, and instantly Dane recognized him. Sir Jarek Quinn. Once a squire to Sir Locke himself. There was recognition in Quinn's eyes, too as he surveyed Dane, and he knew instantly that Quinn's business centered on him. That meant, at the very least, that his time here was about to draw to a close.

Dane turned his eyes away and back to Astrid.

"I think I may have just spotted some bad news."

"It can always get worse," Bastian said, the smile never faltering. "This is far too loud for me I'm afraid."

He spread his hands deferentially. The halflings seemed to be swapping food stories and making hard work out of mounting the furniture. For a moment, he wondered if there was a growing market for halfing scale furnishings in this half of the world.

"Much as I enjoy spending my morning leeching from the generosity of others," he said, with a slightly disparaging look towards some of the drunks, "there are other things that require my attention. You know how it is."

He paused as a giant of a man, Derian or he was a dwarf, plodded across the room. It was odd, the man looked weary but did not project it, the energy about him was chaotic, but somehow...forced? He wrote that off as another mystery for another day, though he noted the concern in the woman's look.

"Another aquaintance of yours I take it?"

"Don't worry about me," Van replied. "I hope you didn't bring me out here to make me happy. Yer wastin' your time."

Sara frowned a bit, "you looked a bit depressed, and I want your company," she put her hands behind her back, "you know kill two birds with one stone."

"I'd be happier at the bottom of a bottle."

She frowned a bit more, "you really can't live like that forever." He was looking towards the man setting up, she swore she saw a glint in his eyes like as though he would be interested, if anything, she thought, I'll be your catcher in the rye.

"I'm only into two things: drinkin' and fightin'," he said to Sara. "And I'm open to tryin' a third, but you better make it worth my while."

She raised an eye to his comment and grinned a bit, "what do you mean by that?"

"And now me work is callin' with the sound of thirsty throats. Sit comfortable and let the Jester's Lute be showin' what hospitality we have."

Yanthian eh? Adali shook his head. This bar seemed to draw his kind. He sat as the woman walked off smiling at the taverns owner. Three youths sat down and asked him about his tattoos. He rolled his eyes and was about to launch into a well practiced story when the giant walked in.

Larger than any man Adali had ever met, the stranger was as tall as a tree and as wide as a mountain. Adali didn't so much see the man as feel his presence intrude upon the room. At first he thought it was simply the man's immense size, but as he watched the man he realized it was the man's spectra. It was practically visible, crackling in the air around him. Who ever this man was he was no one to be trifled with. Adali wondered what was causing such an intense aura. He could sense something inanimate with power, perhaps it was the man's spear like weapon or maybe he had enscrolled armor. Whatever it was, Adali thought it didn't seem to mix well with the man's natural spectra.

"And how does this lady before me fair? May I please sit with you? lest any merchant comes over to make a bother. I think that if any did I would be cheerful while I skinned him alive."


Nadala smiled at her friends playful jest.
“Perhaps you would,” she said simply.

Nadala frowned as a young woman cautiously approached the table a book clutched to her armour clad chest. Fayte eyed her also adding to the young ladies nervous look.

“Excuse me miss,” she said her voice quiet.

Nadala frowned she felt like she’d met the woman before. She was very familiar to her.

“Yes?” Nadala asked.

“You‘re Miss Nadala right? Might I sit with you?”
Nadala nodded, “Go ahead girl…”

“Perhaps you do not recognise me, you would remember my father Detquix perhaps?”

“Ah, Sunouva right?” Nadala replied.

“Yes miss, might I spend a while ask a few questions of you?” Sunouva asked.

“I can‘t see what you‘d gain, however be my guest I shan‘t be going far for a while.”

Timbur tired of drinking and the scene around him. He wasn't in a party mood. He went up the stairs, giving an abhorring eye to Zachariah as he passed him.

Zach gave Timbur a wide grin once the two passed each other. He on the other hand, was dying for a party. And now, he made his way to meet the tavern's most illustrious frequenters. Guided purely by his instincts, the brash young shadow took a leap of faith to approach anyone who seemed to have business in mind. He saw the third male shadow elf again, but he seemed occupied with the barmaid, which was understandable.

Zach grinned wider at the sight and kept his eyes and body moving. Finally, they scanned over a curvaceous woman who wore fingerless gloves with two friends, a half elf and a woman who seemed to not want to be bothered . Perhaps in need of protection? Even if not, perhaps the ladies would fancy a little fun later.It was decided the three would be Zach's first target.

"Good evening, ladies. All of you lovely on this occasion. My name is Zachariah... Asher. Pleased to meet the lot of you."

He took a seat with the ladies.

"Are you ladies, by chance, in need of a hero?"

"It can always get worse," Bastian said, the smile never faltering. "This is far too loud for me I'm afraid. Much as I enjoy spending my morning leeching from the generosity of others," he said, with a slightly disparaging look towards some of the drunks, "there are other things that require my attention. You know how it is."

Arwyn nodded in agreement, but her mind wasn't completely into their conversation. He was well-spoken, courteous, and quite handsome, but she simply couldn't ignore a friend in need. Her eyes continually drifted to Erlend, mostly on account of his wild spectra, but also because she knew him and could tell he was not himself. Something was off -- something that spectra alone could not account for.

"Another aquaintance of yours I take it?" Bastian asked, noticing her lapse in attention.

His words snapped her out of her trance-like stare. "Oh, I... I apologize," she stammered. "I didn't mean to let your words slip by." She nervously wrung her hands, still feeling somewhat distracted. She was too in-tune with spectra; she couldn't just ignore it. "I cannot imagine what you must think of me," she said sadly. "Every acquaintance of mine has been a sulking brute of some kind or other. But I assure you, that man is one of the kindest people I have ever met; a tortured soul, really. And it troubles me to see him in such condition."

* * * *

"You looked a bit depressed, and I want your company," Sara said, frowning with her hands behind her back. "You know, kill two birds with one stone." She had a response or question for each of his comments, but Van wasn't interested in going back and forth with her. He was fed up with this.

"Look, I don't get depressed," he said. "I get determined. Depression is for folks that don't know what to do with themselves. I got my life all worked out; a lil' fightin', a lil' drinkin', rinse and repeat. You can't go wrong with that. So why the hell is everybody tryin' to step in and straighten me out, like I'm some kinda lunatic!? So what if I get a lil' pissed off sometimes? I ain't never hurt nobody that didn't deserve it. So what if I'm not the nicest guy in the world? That's jus' how I get motivated -- that's how I get s**t done! And the s**t I do is done to keep these lazy bastards safe!" he yelled, throwing his hands up.

The townspeople were beginning to stare, but he didn't care one bit. "What do they want from me!?" he pleaded, returning his attention to Sara. "Am I not happy enough for them? Am I supposed to save the world with a smile on my face? Am I supposed to shine their shoes and kiss their ass after I'm done dragging them back from the edge of oblivion? I don't give a d**n about any of them and I can't believe I ever did. These days I'm just doin' it 'cuz it's the right thing to do. That's all I've got left; a pocketful of empty morals. They can all go to hell in a handbasket and it wouldn't phase me one bit... yet I keep draggin' my sorry ass out there and gettin' torn to shreds for their sake.... Maybe I am crazy.... Somebody has to be."

Sara stared at him wide-eyed for a moment, perhaps shocked, or perhaps wondering if he was done ranting. "When is this d**n show gonna start?" he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets again. "I need a drink."

Sara stared at him wide eyed, he yelled at her for trying to cheer him up, a small tear trickled down her face. She quickly brushed it aside,

"if that's the way you feel then," she turned back to the stage, "then you can go if you want, I don't need you here, damn me if I'm trying to do something right."

There was a long silence then she turned back to him, "you're thick skulled, and you don't see the full picture, maybe sometimes people want to help, maybe because they want to, maybe cause they ca..." she stopped herself, "I'm just wasting my breath, you don't even care what I have to say, but I'm sure as hell not gonna let you ruin my mood with your ass like one." She turned herself back to the stage.

* * *

James was ready to begin, there was a small outburst, but he was ready. He set up a crude form of a large pinwheel of fireworks to his back, along with his usual set of fireworks. A larger crowd had formed from the previous first, Van and his friend were near the front, he had plans for the girl, this would be a fun night.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I am now ready to begin the show, I've added a few more things since my previous performance, thanks," he bowed, "to your generous contributions."

The crowd and Sara clapped ready for the show to begin,

"Now," he straightened up, removing his cloak and tossing it aside, "let's burn somethings."

He started out pulling his blade in a normal defensive technique style, the weapon ignited in a burst of fire and streamed upward coarsing throughout the blade. He began his dance, it was always a crowd starter, it allowed him to manuver about lighting the fireworks while aweing the crowd with a dance in the flames.

He did flips, spins, and manuvered the blade all about his body. Occasionally he lit a few fireworks showering himself and the crowd in sparks as they crackled and popped in the night sky.

James after firing off a couple more fireworks then decided to change things up a little. He shot the fire from his blade lighting nearby torches he had set up, he then extinguished the blade tossing it to the ground sticking into his wooden stage. He took out 8 kunai each one in his hand and he ignited them, glowing claws around his fists.

He started to juggle the small burning blades and the crowd gasped in amazement at his performance. James then started to show off, pulling off other moves such as tossing the first eight higher and pulling out 8 more to add to the excitement, he juggled the blades behind his back, under his leg, and even one handed.

After a few minutes of his juggling act (which he thanked Adali everyday for teaching him) he threw up the blades to the highest point he could. He shot flames from his hands to two large fireworks to either side of him, their long fuses would last long enough for his knife throwing trick. As the blades began to fall he threw them at the pinwheel board he made. As each flaming kunai hit their target it started to form a picture, once done it showed a 5 pointed star, orginal, but it still worked and caused the crowd to applaud in amazement.

He took his last kunai, igniting it he aimed for the fuse of a rocket on the pinwheel, threw it and the fuse went to the other five rockets causing the pinwheel to spin. At this point the two rockets at his sides shot up and erupted in a shower of colors, sparks, and explosions. The crowd cheered at the performance and rained coin tips to the aspiring performer.

James took a bow, "Thank you all, but" he quickly straightened up, "that wasn't my finale. No what I am about to do will shock and amaze you," he used his hands in a erratically slow motions to emphasize the amazment of his next trick, "what I am to do, is summon a beast, a terrible, fire breathing beast of the skies. Such a beast has not been seen in many years. What I am to do..." he paused, "is bring forth a dragon!" a shot of fire came from his hands, the audience gasped.

"Yes that is what I am to do, but I am its master, I am to control it and I..." another short pause, "am to ride it." The crowd gasped, "However," he dramatically put a clenched fist to his head, "I am not to do it alone, I will need a volunteer for such an effort, I ask you all..." he paused and grinned, "who wants to ride a dragon!"

The crowd cheered out, each raising their hands for the performer to pick them, James looked about, but he had chosen his partner long ago."

"You there!" he pointed to Sara, "you will be my co-pilot!"

The crowd cheered her on, Sara looked around nervously, finally she started to approach the stage,

"My dear," he bowed, "are you ready for the adventure of a lifetime?"

she grinned a little, "I guess so."

"Then let us begin."

"If that's the way you feel then," Sara said, "then you can go if you want, I don't need you here, damn me if I'm trying to do something right. You're thick skulled, and you don't see the full picture, maybe sometimes people want to help, maybe because they want to, maybe cause they ca..." she stopped herself. "I'm just wasting my breath, you don't even care what I have to say, but I'm sure as hell not gonna let you ruin my mood with your ass like one."

What is this? Van thought as he listened to her wailing. She always cryin' about nothing. What the hell did I say to her that was so insulting? He simply turned away and paid her no mind. Why bother?

The show started soon after and Van, like everyone else, watched. But he wasn't impressed -- amused, but not impressed. There was much more fire involved than he had anticipated. There were a few instances where he considered intervening, lest the whole town be lit up like a bonfire. But the monk handled it well enough, much to Van's disappointment. Inwardly, he almost wanted to see James set a roof on fire and get dragged out of town, kicking and screaming by guards and an angry mob.

The fireworks grew to a climax and the show drew to a close. Sara was entranced, clapping along as James completed his act. Van, figuring it was over, turned to leave, but was soon recalled by James's showmanship and his promise of one last feat.

"Thank you all, but that wasn't my finale," he said. "No what I am about to do will shock and amaze you. What I am to do, is summon a beast, a terrible, fire breathing beast of the skies. Such a beast has not been seen in many years. What I am to do... is bring forth a dragon!"

Van turned around on his heels, facing the stage again. "You wouldn't," he muttered under his breath. "There's no way he's that stupid." He looked around. There were no guards in sight. You'd think the crowd would've drawn 'em here. Figures, they're never around when ya need 'em.

"Who wants to ride a dragon!" James said, his eyes scanning the crowd, before zeroing in on Sara. "You there! You will be my co-pilot!"

"Don't do it," he said to her. "There's no way that idiot can summon a dragon. And you don't wanna be anywhere near him when he fails." But his words fell on deaf ears. She was hooked. James had drawn her in. Van rushed the stage, getting there an instant before she did. He drew his sword and had the tip at James's throat in an instant. "Show's over," he said. "If you wanna summon a dragon in this town, you'll have to go through me first."

"Show's over," he said. "If you wanna summon a dragon in this town, you'll have to go through me first."

He stared at Van, the blade at his neck, it was entrancing it seemed to almost be made of glass, he then looked at Van, "you really don't want to do this Van," his eyes narrowed, "I'm not going to fight, but then again," he looked around, "don't want to burn a village down from a dragon made entirely out of flames, yep that's right all an illusion, still," he swivled and jumped from his blade, "I need to fire off the last of these rockets, and no there will be no dragons."

He turned to the crowd, "sorry folks, no dragon conjuring, but I still won't leave you with a bad taste on your palate," he took the large rocket and lit it up, the thing fired up high into the skies, it exploded into a flurry of sparks and colors, the crowd cheered for the final performance.

"Thank you all of Soara, have yourself a good evening!" He bowed and began to start the clean-up. James turned to Van, however, "I want you to know this isn't my first show and I've done this before," he smiled, "but I t'would think, you'd rather spend time with your lady friend then listen to me drabble on, you have yourself a good night."

He then proceeded to continue his work, ignoring whatever comments were thrown at him.

* * *

Sara looked in shock as Van pointed his sword at the street performer, she was going to say something, but the performer submitted firing off his last fireworks. She walked over to Van when everything was done and over with,

"Thank you," she smiled, "things could have gone wrong if you hadn't intervened, but I was so entranced that I lost myself. Will you walk me back to the Tavern?"

"You really don't want to do this Van..." James said with the blade at his throat. "I'm not going to fight, but then again, don't want to burn a village down from a dragon made entirely out of flames, yep that's right all an illusion, still," he swivled and jumped from his blade, "I need to fire off the last of these rockets, and no there will be no dragons."

"You're determined to push you luck," Van said, lowering his weapon. "It's a miracle you haven't burned this place down yet. But you won't quit until somebody gets hurt." He turned to walk away as James addressed the crowd and began to set off the remainder of the explosives. Of course they all cheered, like the mindless sheep they are.

"Thank you," Sara said. "Things could have gone wrong if you hadn't intervened, but I was so entranced that I lost myself. Will you walk me back to the Tavern?"

Van narrowed his gaze at her. Wasn't she cryin' and yellin' at me a minute ago? he thought. She wasn't hard to please, and yet it was so easy to screw it all up again. Her flippancy knew no bounds and it was really beginning to piss him off. Chances are, she'd be yelling in his ear again before they reached the Lute. To make matters worse, the annoying monk decided to get in a last word:

"I want you to know this isn't my first show and I've done this before," James said. "But I t'would think, you'd rather spend time with your lady friend then listen to me drabble on. You have yourself a good night."

"I t'would think you'd know when to shut the hell up," Van hissed. He wrapped up his sword and stowed it on his back. He knew if he kept it on hand he'd end up making a big mistake; Sara and the monk were both getting on his last nerve. "C'mon," he said, grabbing her by the hand and pushing through the crowd of spectators that was still standing around. They booed as he nudged by them -- they really wanted that dragon and hated him for ruining the show. "They don't know what's best for 'em," Van said as he and Sara emerged from the back of the crowd and he let go of her hand.

By the time they reached the tavern, it was nearly sunset and he was no longer in the mood for drinking. He just wanted to disappear. But first he needed to partake in some of that free food. He planted himself at a table, hailed a waiter and asked for a bowl of stew, some bread, and a beer. "I've only been here a few hours and I already hate this place," he remarked, much to the waiter's displeasure. His food would probably get spat in, but he didn't care.

Van grabbed her hand and lead her through the crowd, after the jeers made by the other civilians they made it through. They both walked back in silence, Van was confusing, but he probably thought the same of her. When they got back he sat at a table and started to order something, drinks probably.

She walked herself over to Arwyn and sat herself down, "I'm back," she sighed a bit, "I don't know what's wrong with me, I'm mad at him one second and then its like nothing even happened. For some reason I can't stay mad at him," she looked to her, "I'm sure your evening was pleasant."

"You assume I care," Bastian said lightly. "That's cute."

He followed the woman's glance back to the Derian and shook his head. Mages these days, just one long sob story and not a lick of professional pride in the lot. Still, he put the Derian in the same box as the married couple. If his spectra was that wild, then Bastian's dampening presence would stick out like a sore thumb.

"Odd how this friend didn't stop to say hello," he went on, pulling on his gloves and tucking his letters into his bag. "And while I'm sure you have nothing but the purest intentions, I doubt he appreciates your staring."

Sunouva sat and Nadala watched her attentively.
“Are you still learning swordsmanship Sunouva?” Nadala asked.

Sunouva opened her mouth to reply, but an man intuited then conversation. Nadala noticed the frustrated look on Sunouva’s face and wondered if perhaps their was something of importance she wanted to ask.

"Good evening, ladies. All of you lovely on this occasion. My name is Zachariah... Asher. Pleased to meet the lot of you."

He took a seat with the ladies.

"Are you ladies, by chance, in need of a hero?"
Nadala turned to Fayte a look of disbelief on her face, in turn Fayte shook her head. A young Doe, Sunouva flushed and Nadala had to smile at her naive nature. Nadala could tell when a man was sniffing and she didn’t appreciate it ever. The only exception her husband.

“Good evening,” the three replied in union. “I see…Zach, may I call you that?” Nadala asked dryly.

Fayte snickered reading Nadala’s change in expression. Nadala rose to her feet looking the man over scornfully. “Seems if you be sniffing you‘re out of luck boy. You see Fayte here is courting my brother. I myself am married and with child, And Sunouva…”

“Azoola,” the young woman corrected her.

“Right Azoola, is barely just on being a woman. Far be it for me to try and stop you chasing skirt with the lass. However her father is Detquix a man of the king. Last I saw him he still had an awful temper and I wouldn‘t tarry in answering the man if he asked me of you. As for needing a hero, I highly doubt that also. Though I‘m sure the three of us could be hired for that same task. I‘m an expert marksman, my friend Fayte has talent in magic and Sunouva is very daring with the blade. So sir do you need a hero?”

-------

https://rpcentral.forumotion.net/viewtopic.forum?t=161

-------

https://rpcentral.forumotion.net/viewtopic.forum?t=163