In the Tavern (Board RP Thread)

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      Another image will flicker upon the eyes of all those who are gathered. This image seems to hint at a method of mixing some sort oil derived from an herbal concoction, heated over a fire of burning scrolls and runes in order to call forth a strange and unfamiliar magical reaction. Zinc Oxide and crushed Kaolinite is added in small pinches. Then, a small vial of Lecithin which has been extracted from the eggs of a Giant Viper is slowly poured into the mixture while stirring rapidly.

      This odd concoction is then hastily cooled in the cold winter air until it is almost a gel, before being deliberately kneaded into the mixture of the clay.

      Stephen Foerster

        Ferris, upon seeing Leaf, will jump up, leaving his book on the table.

        “Leaf, so good to see you. How are you, my friend? We should talk.”


          Leaf will greet everyone on the as they walked in he’ll hesitantly give Sonya a one armed hug as she is patting his shoulder. Tilt his bottle to Kaine.

          “Lanre why are you feeling our heads with your maps”?

          “Ferris my friend of course we can talk, is this talk tavern friendly”?


            Orthia will smile and share a drink with Sonya and Sibella as they enter.

            “are you excitied we may finally be able to make our choice soon. I’m not fond of the heralds and maybe they will bug us less if we make it clear who we pick.”

            Orthia shrugs and keeps on drinking from her bottle.

            Tonya Jelte

              Choice on what?
              Sin leans in, clearly eavesdropping


                Sibella enjoys a drink with her fellow gypsies and sets her bottle back down, looking at Orthia
                I don’t know if excited is the word I would choose. I just wish we had more definitive information about all of them…
                But, I will be glad when this whole thing is done.

                As she finishes speaking; Sibella will pull out her tattered book that is always with her and begin writing. Her eyes deeply focused as she writes.

                PC: Rory Brooker
                Retired PC: Sibella R. Listrotov
                OOG: Chelsea Baldwin

                Travis Emery

                  Krow stops mimicking the tune, and his appearance fades to normal once again.

                  Seems there is something we are supposed to know. Lanre, or anyone else, know what this clay-like mixture is for?
                  Lanre, you said you were thinking of soap, but I have never know any soaps to contain ingredients like these. Was there perhaps something else on your mind? If not, have you seen this concoction before?

                  It seems we are in all in need of more food and drink. Menzo, how much credit for food and drink do I have left? Enough to get everyone here a fresh tankard? Or wine glass for those with elvish stomachs.

                  Krow eyes Kaine directly and smirks, then looks at Sibella and Sonya while pouring himself another shot, turning the last glass over and pushing it towards Sonya.

                  I heard the choice was made, I never did hear what it was though.

                  Krow sits at his spot among the tables.

                  "You know nothing of passion. When your rage can sunder mountains, you may speak to me of passion."
                  -- Krowthus Quince of the Clan of the Bear, summer 215


                    Lanre will look around the tavern, as if searching for someone to step in and explain.

                    “Leaf… Krow… whatever is happening with the visions, I have nothing to do with it. I’m interested in alchemy, definitely, so the chemical composition of soap is interesting to me.” Lanre pauses before turning towards the rest of the adventurers as if he is speaking to a gathered crowd. “I seriously have no idea what is happening. I was minding my own business when Krow decided to sneak up on me and spook the daylights out of me in the kitchen.”

                    The cartogropher will hesitate, and then smile with an impish grin. “But maybe you are right, Krow, maybe I am the source of pure artificing knowledge, and all prophetic vision. Yeah, I like the sound of that.”


                      Sonya quirks an eyebrow at the drink that Krow slid her way.She puts her index and thumb together and looks as if she is going to flick the drink off the table. She hesitates and picks the drink up and raises it to Krow.
                      “To Karkarov beating an apology out of you.” She throws back the drink back with a smirk.

                      At Lanre’s comment she issues an all to familiar sound of disgust.
                      “For goodness sake, Lanre is not causing these visions. The Moon Cascade said that we would be receiving visions of how to make a Primordial Gate.”

                      Travis Emery

                        Krow slaps Lanre on the shoulder and pours a drink from the pitcher.

                        Do I really look like one who could sneak anywhere? I noticed the visions when I came in here and you started staring into space and humming a song. The visions stopped for a little while when I interrupted you, then another occurred just after I started mimicking the song you were humming. A bit specific for coincidence, and I don’t pretend to know what is going on with the primordials or some gate that needs constructing. So it seemed to fit together as a logical reason. If I am wrong, anyone here is welcome to explain the situation more clearly. I think we are all striving for the same end goal, why the need for so many secrets? If we let loose a power that could kill us all, that kind of affects… us all.

                        Krow tosses back the drink and turns his gaze to Sonya.

                        I don’t know whats that supposed to mean either, and my assumptions have already rendered a heated state as is. So I say, whatever come, let it come. The tensions of adventurers now days seem so on edge, and I only look to lighten things up a bit, make people smile more. If beating on someone is your way of feeling happy, then there are plenty of evil things and beasts out there that I would happily assist in the beating of. Why waste the energy on those who would be friends or allies?
                        I have nothing but respect for gypsy families. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for the actions of a specific gypsy family that I would love to only see again. But that won’t be possible any more.

                        Krow gives a sad frown for a moment and looks at the ground in memorial thought. Then half raises his drink to the sky and drinks it slow.

                        Perhaps… nevermind. That is something for a different time. After things have settled.

                        "You know nothing of passion. When your rage can sunder mountains, you may speak to me of passion."
                        -- Krowthus Quince of the Clan of the Bear, summer 215


                          Sonya’s smile slackens a short time after Krow starts speaking. Then it goes completely blank as he continues. Her jaw drops slightly as disinterest sets in. She then leans over to Sibella half way through Krow’s talk and whispers to her with a grin on her face.
                          She then takes the previously offered bottle from Orthia and takes a pull from it. She wipes her mouth and returns it to the gypsy.

                          Sonya folds her hands together and gives Krow a matter of fact look.

                          “Are you done?” before waiting for a response Sonya continues to speak.

                          “If you were paying attention earlier, Orthia had already stated what i mentioned about the Moon Cascade. If you aren’t going to be around consistently, don’t expect to know everything going on. It isn’t my personal job in life to keep you updated on our recent adventures. Ask someone you like to do that for you.”

                          Her voice rises a bit as she continues.

                          “The Primordial troubles came in full force about a year and a half ago. You’re new. I don’t know you. Don’t expect me to throw all my knowledge at your feet when you demand it. It’s not my way and that won’t change anytime soon.” She leans back in her chair and folds her arms

                          She sighs “You mistook my toast. It was in jest. By the dead, calm down. I didn’t ask for your life story.” She rolls her eyes and props her feet upon the table

                          Travis Emery

                            Krow takes the final swig straight from his bottle, kisses it lightly and sets it on the table.

                            I know I am new here, none of you know me from anything. My aim is to change that.
                            I don’t want or need to be updated on everything. But I am here, and when everyone in town starts getting visions about the chemical composition to create a primordial gate given to us by the Moon Cascade which brings us closer to making the final decision of ascension and such, I think even those who are new should at least be told whats going on.
                            Could drive someone mad not knowing whats going on with them.

                            Krow give a wry smirk to Lanre.

                            I am sorry I am long winded when I’ve been drinking. I also forget to breathe when going on my soliloquies. But enough about me.
                            Seems we have something in common, we both speak our minds, and are unwilling to bend from our ways. Maybe we take this as a proverbial olive branch?
                            Are you inviting me to stick around more often?

                            In a jokingly nasally voice,

                            Sonya… will you be my friend.

                            Amused by his own antics, Krow gives a deep belly chuckle, mock wipes a tear from his eye, then stands and walks to the bar to get another bottle. He moves back to his seat and awaits the impending retort, or slap on the face.

                            "You know nothing of passion. When your rage can sunder mountains, you may speak to me of passion."
                            -- Krowthus Quince of the Clan of the Bear, summer 215


                              ‘We’ve already chosen who will ascend, I gave no such invitation.” She takes a breath and scowls “and no.” She states with non amused tone.


                                Lanre will watch the exchange between Krow and Sonya with a knowing expression, as if he is watching a theatrical performance that he has seen played out many times before.

                                Before Krow has a chance to respond to Sonya’s latest retort, Lanre will step in and give Sonya a little hello wave. “You are in an extra fierce mood today, Sonya. Seems like it might be a good day to test ourselves against a ferocious enemy or two, eh?” Lanre reaches up and squeezes his bicep as if measuring his own impressive strength.

                                Stalking into the kitchen for a brief moment, Lanre comes back out with an armful of firewood for the hearth. “Let me give you a bit of advice, Krow.” Lanre politely tips the edge of his elaborate wide-brimmed hat in Sonya’s direction. “Few people have had nearly as much experience on being on the Lioness Garadetzki’s bad side as yours truly.” As Lanre speaks, he slowly begins carefully stacking pieces of tinder.

                                “You see, Sonya is a warden to the core. She is a fearsome protector of her family, and no mistake. I’ve no doubt that she is more concerned about the safety and well-being of Yuri or Karkarov than Yuri or Karkarov themselves are, for instance. And this transcends just physical well-being. When you cross one of the Garadetzki’s, you’re generally safe to assume that Sonya is twice is pissed at you than the person you actually crossed.”

                                Lanre tosses two large chunks of firewood into the hearth, seeming not to notice that he has fouled up his own efforts at organizing the tinder, and he goes on. “You’re best bet now is to make nice with everyone else first, and if you do a good job at that, then things with Sonya will probably sort themselves out on their own.”

                                Marley Sage

                                  Clad in purple, adorned with trinkets of silver, and scarves with skulls, a heavily-bearded Karkarov pushes the door to Bort’s Tavern open with a bang.

                                  He surveys those gathered, face etched with a frown that wanes towaed grin as he heads toward Orthia’s crowded table. With deadly grace he unsheathes a blackened drinking horn, strange sygldry inset upon it, and a moment later, after filling that horn with Gypsie wine, he bellows a toast:

                                  “To Sir Gabriel Mirrorshine, He of the Crimson Vestment, Reddest of Skulls, Hand of the Handless, Soul of the Bear.”

                                  More quietly, he moves on to clap Leaf on the shoulder. “I haven’t seen you since our personal dance with the ShadowLord, thought you might have been turned off our grim adventuring business by the trauma. Har har har. Ready to start playin’ policitcs again O Sagacious One?”

                                  The berseker spares a glance at the growing flames. “Fine job. Master Lightsong, you’re so good at making things homey, since you got rezportted, almost makes an old Gypsy glad to be back from the road.”

                                  A hearty wave greets Ferris.

                                  At last he settles in with a harrumph, selecring a chair that allows leaning against Sibella, and putting up mudstained boots on another chair. “So what’re we talking about over here that left the Down and Dirty so empty, when I got back?”

                                  OOG: Marley Sage Gable, Staff Director & Plot Team Member

                                  PC: Rigel - Asurkian Bard ~ Alchemist Artificer

                                  Travis Emery

                                    Krow looks to Sonya.

                                    A decision I do not disagree with, I simply meant the action of doing so.

                                    Krow nods at Lanre and shrugs.

                                    All in due time I suppose.

                                    He raises his glass to Karkarov’s toast, but visually raises an eyebrow to the name he gives.

                                    That’s quite the title for one being.

                                    Krow chuckles to himself a bit, turns over the glass that has been left on the table unused this entire time, pours an amount in, and holds it out towards Karkarov. He then pours himself a shot and waits while giving a half smirk and slightly bows his head down keeping eye contact with the gypsy.

                                    "You know nothing of passion. When your rage can sunder mountains, you may speak to me of passion."
                                    -- Krowthus Quince of the Clan of the Bear, summer 215

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