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Author Topic: Wison's Breath Inn  (Read 94950 times)
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Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin
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« on: October 08, 2007, 03:45:04 AM »

Pretty eyes surveyed the room.  Trina saw that none of the patrons, of which there were only a few thankfully, needed a refill on their drinks.  She hoped that the other waitress would get here soon.  With just her and Ulther, working the bar, and Geneze in the back cooking, she would be run off her feet when the evening crowd started coming in for supper and drinks.  She sighed.

She sure hoped that Ryk would be coming in tonight.  She hated that he was a scout and therefore gone for days at a time.  Still, she smiled to herself lustily, it would mean that he would be craving her company more than ever.  A scowl replaced the grin.  Of course, that only supposed that there were no new girls here for him to gravitate to.  Damn him and his rules.  No hold on each other.  He was such a wison turd.  Made her wonder why she liked him at all.  She could easily fill her bed with another.  She was young, pretty enough, and with a good body.  Then she imagined his hand caressing her naked body and she shivered.  That was why.

She noticed a customer finishing his ale and she sighed.  Back to work.
Logged

Favorite Cartoon Quotes
"It was a dark and stormy night."  - Snoopy
"Ack!" - Bill the Cat
"I did not have sex with that woman, Monica Lewinski." - President Bill Clinton

My Character can be viewed @Angelina Jolie's house.  But knock first, in case I'm in my underwear.
Khel
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« Reply #1 on: October 09, 2007, 07:52:30 AM »

Dahlen Kunvayle

A hearty laughed escaped his lips, and Dahlen’s eyes were bright with moisture as he gained his composure. The fire at his back warmed his entire body. Fur coat strewn across the floor, tunic unbuttoned, Dahlen felt completely at ease. His city, his people, his entertainment… this was the life he loved to live. The large meeting room within the Wison’s Breath Inn had become a second home to him. The large stone table served as an excellent meeting place, as well as a good place to relax and have a good time.

Slamming his third empty mug onto the table, the last drops sloshed from it, sprinkling his trimmed beard. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he voiced a little to loudly, ”A joke at the High Priest’s expense always holds such a special place in my heart!” Grinning fool heartily, he tipped his chair back nonchalantly and gazed across the table at Brem Surinaam, who happened to be finishing his fifth or sixth ale. He wasn’t really keeping count.

Pulling at a curly nor’sidian lock, Dahlen looked pointedly at the door, hoping that pretty Trina would hurry back with their meal. As if on cue, a light tap could be heard, and Dahlen jumped up, bumbling over to the door and jerking it open. There stood the little beauty, holding a platter with their lunch. Inhaling the sweet aroma… of the food and the girl… he grabbed the platter from her with a grin and a slight bow.

”’Bout time, Trina!” he roared, ”Give my compliments to ol’ Geneze. Such an amazing cook..” Turning to set the plates on the large table he gave the young maiden a good-natured wink. She really was a beauty, and everyone knew her heart went with the young Shialt-eck-Gorrin. He watched as she smiled sweetly and quickly shut the door. Chuckling again, Dahlen always got a kick out of making the young woman so nervous.

Plopping down again and pulling a plate before him, Dahlen took a large bite and looked across the big table again. The copious man across from him looked a little less stable than himself. Both were comfortably garbed in tunics of earthen tones, he in eophran, and Brem in forest green. They were the common people, representing the city of Remusiat, concerned only with the welfare of their people. This was the topic of their meeting today, for the abhorrent changes taking place throughout their beloved city were of great concern to both men. With a serious, deep throated voice he said, ”Now to business, friend.”
« Last Edit: October 09, 2007, 11:38:59 AM by Khel » Logged

..tell me your heart doesn't race for a hurricane or a burning building. -asw
Your pal, Khel
Kaldez’Yadra
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« Reply #2 on: October 09, 2007, 09:46:01 AM »

Sitting at his table in the corner drinking his water Kaldez scanned the room over the rim of his mug, there were not many people, he watched a s a very pretty young maid ascended the stairs with a tray. That must be where the peoples leader is... Dahlem Kunvayle kaldez had found out the man was going to be here by asking the right questions of the right people at the right time. He quickly climbed the steps following the maid, as she delivered her tray he quickly ducked off to the side where she wouldn't see him, as she went back down the stairs Kaldez crouched with his ear to the door silently so he could see what  The peoples leader had to say.
« Last Edit: October 10, 2007, 04:37:16 AM by Kaldez’Yadra » Logged

Nothing is impossible for impossibility is impossible- Kaldez'Yadra
Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin
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« Reply #3 on: October 09, 2007, 11:02:33 AM »

Brem Surinaam

Brem chuckled after telling that off colour joke to Dahlen.   Really, comparing Xandreth to Thunderfoot droppings was quite comical.  Still, he did not come here to get drunk and pass the time at Xandreth's expense.  He was about to get serious when there was a knock at the door and he watched in painful silence as Dahlen made a fool of himself over that serving wench.  Had the man no pride at all?

Really, if the two men had not such aligned goals, could they even be friends?  Somehow Brem doubted it.  To him, Dahlen was not more than an oaf.  He thought in short sighted terms.  There was no long reaching plans in his head.  For instance, that wench.  He would fall all over himself for her, but then what?  Did he really expect her to jump at the chance to rut with an old man like him?  And if she did, what then?  No, Dahlen was far too shortsighted.

Now, him on the other hand, the long term was the only goal.  What mattered the trials of men, when the plans of the gods was at stake?  His people, the people of the old gods, were losing their way.  They were Nechya's children.  Why had they forsaken her?  Why had they forsaken Zundefor, who had given them Wison to fill their hungry bellies?  Or any of the other gods?  

Just who was this Kor'och?  He was no god!  He was a human, just a mortal who had become a great warrior.  Then he had lost his way, and thought himself a god.  What was worse, others had followed him.  Now, their entire country was turning to this false god, this heretical religion.  And the true gods would not take this lightly.  They would demand retribution.

Brem smiled to himself.  And he would be that retribution.  He would be the sword of the gods.  It was his destiny.  The people of Remusiat would pay for their sacrileges.  And those who led this blasphemy, they would be the ones who paid the highest price.  It was them that allowed this, nay, encouraged it.

Dahlen sat back down, the serving wench gone.  ”Now to business, friend.”

Brem nodded.  "Yes.  I really do think we need to talk."
« Last Edit: October 09, 2007, 11:46:11 AM by Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin » Logged

Favorite Cartoon Quotes
"It was a dark and stormy night."  - Snoopy
"Ack!" - Bill the Cat
"I did not have sex with that woman, Monica Lewinski." - President Bill Clinton

My Character can be viewed @Angelina Jolie's house.  But knock first, in case I'm in my underwear.
Khel
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« Reply #4 on: October 09, 2007, 12:06:18 PM »

Dahlen Kunvayle

"Yes.  I really do think we need to talk." Disappointed, Dahlen chewed and swallowed his bite, washing it down with a gulp of water. His face fell and his eyes narrowed as he looked at Brem. Seriously, was this man ever completely at ease? Was he Remusian or not? He supposed he was. A warrior through and through, even if a religious one. Shaking his head, Dahlen knew they at least must work together for the time being. Very well, then, to business.

Taking another bite and chewing slowly, Dahlen surveyed the room as he thought. The large room was certainly the nicest in the Inn. Tapestries covered the walls, a Remusian crest adorned the headboard on the bed, and fur rugs covered the floor. So many thought Remusia was so primitive, and Dahlen resented that greatly. Their city was blessed by the gods, it was perfect as he saw it and frustration bubbled from deep within him at the thought of change. That imbecile Rellech had no idea what he was doing. Money and power were his only cares; he could not be considered a Remusian. For the gods’ sake, he probably loved those delegates… those mages.

Dahlen was not wealthy; his plain eophran brown garb would tell any passerby. He was a simple man simply living his life as well as he knew how. And for anyone to up and decide to shake the foundations of that… it was an outrage. Opening up trade? What is wrong with the way they’ve been doing things for as long as he or his family can remember? Nothing was wrong with it. Thick brows furrowed together in thought. Finally, looking up at the man across from him, Dahlen’s usually soft eyes flashed. Who was to say Brem wouldn’t change his mind when he saw the apparent profit of it all?

Sure, the man did not believe in Kor’och, at least they were agreed about that. But after that… shaking his head irritably, he said, ”We need to decide our course of action. Regarding those foolhardy nobles. That ridiculous high priest..” Dahlen’s lip curled as he spat the words, and suddenly rage built within him and he slammed his fist on the table in sweet release, ”They will crush the Remusian way! They wish to change Remusia and subtract from its magnificence! Money and power they have, but manpower is on our side... we have to use it to our advantage.

"We have to rid the city of these dissidents preaching ‘modernization’ of the city. It is the right thing to do to protect our people..”
Dahlen’s eyes burned with the thought of clearing their path of the influential nobles. Dahlen stood, placing both hands on the table and leaning forward. Staring hard at Brem, he asked skeptically, ”Isn’t it?”
« Last Edit: October 09, 2007, 12:06:37 PM by Khel » Logged

..tell me your heart doesn't race for a hurricane or a burning building. -asw
Your pal, Khel
Tobac
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« Reply #5 on: October 09, 2007, 03:41:58 PM »

 Tobac quickly walked through the door of the inn, coughing lightly, and looked over the room. Tobac always hated it when there were few people to play for, but this was his best option, unfortunately. He walked to the bar, pulling his hood down, and grinned at the serving girl, as was his custom. He reached the bar, and attracted the bartender's attention. The intimidating man gave Tobac a discomforting look while he was walking toward him. As the behemoth stopped and stared at Tobac, Tobac finally queried with a smirk,
 "Who might I see about being an entertainer at this fine establishment?"
Logged
Kyrridhil Culná mo
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« Reply #6 on: October 10, 2007, 01:18:08 AM »

(OOC: Tis spelt Ascended Kaldez)
Kyrridhil carefully toed open the door to the Wison's Breath Inn and was met by a blast of warm air emitting from the fireplace. Straining his ears, he could hear men laughing upstairs. He walked in, careful to duck below the door frame. He looked around the place and saw the numerous Wison pelts hung from the walls. "Keeping with the times..." he thought to himself.

He made his way over to the long table and sat, warming his back against the fire. He breathed out heavily, releaved to feel the warmth once more. He reached over his shoulder to feel the rope from which his sack hung from. He groped around but couldn't find it. Panic strewed itself across Kyrridhils face "Oh God NO!" he shouted "NO! I've left it on the damned ship!" Kyrridhil leapt to his feet and ran to the door. Before he could make it a few paces he tripped over something large and heavy.

He looked back at his foot, already knowing what he would see. "I've made a fool of myself already!" he quietly moaned. Looking up to the bar, he saw a man; a bard by the looks of it talking to the rather large and scary bartender about entertainment. He pulled himself back to his feet and sat back down. Keeping his head low so as not to attract unwanted attention. Kyrridhil silently cursed his body and wished once more that he had not been born this way. He pulled out a hipflask from his sack and started to drink before something caught his eye.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the barmaid quietly coming back down the stairs. "My god," Thought Kyrridhil, his eyes fell to her chest but he caught himself. He sat down, crouching low over the drink so as to cover his feelings towards her. He blushed profusely and took a long draught, and spluttered profusely as she bent over to pick up the change. "Smooth one Kyrridhil, maybe next time you could throw up over her, maybe that will catch her eye" she stood up and looked back at him, Kyrridhil played it 'cool' and looked plainly disinterested. "Right this might be awkward" he murmured to himself.
« Last Edit: October 10, 2007, 03:03:37 PM by Kyrridhil Culná mo » Logged

Smell that? Yeah thats you wallowing in self pity.
Deal With It

-Kyrridhil Culná mo to a Remusian guard after being told he had brittle hair.
Kyrridhil Culná Mo
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Khel
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« Reply #7 on: October 10, 2007, 04:30:11 AM »

Timeras

Ruffling Brogan’s hair, Timeras said farewell and stepped out of the Tower. There was a Sea wind, as usual, but gazing to the south, knowing the mountains would be visible today to the very top, and beautiful against the sunny backdrop. Inhaling the chilly air, Timeras motioned for the guards to stand upright. Why must they always bow? Stepping slowly down the stairs to the Tower, Timeras did not take with him a guard or a companion of any kind. He knew, as much as he wished it were not so, that Brogan would inform another, who would soon keep close watch on the Prince as he roamed about his city. Timeras understood the importance of the act, but it annoyed him all the same. Stepping out into the street, Timeras closed his eyes, savoring the movement in the air.

Thousands of inhalations and exhalations, millions of footsteps on stone; the whooshing of wind between the buildings: A symphony of sounds reached his ears. The multitude of colors when he opened his eyes was fantastic. Many thought Remusiat fairly bland, but Timeras knew better. Although the stone and occasional wood buildings were quite plain, the people were full of life. Sure, most of them were soldiers, but their lives reached far beyond the instinctive need for battle.

Pausing for a moment, the Prince considered heading towards the Harbour. Perhaps a welcome there would be more official and respectful… on second thought, Timeras scrunched his face at the idea. He knew the Ximaxian delegation had arrived and so many executives of the city would be fluttering about he was bound to be roped into official matters. Definitely repulsed by the idea, Timeras stepped into the flow of the crowd.

Many did not take a second glance at the Prince as he sauntered south towards the Wison’s Breath Inn. Timeras preferred meeting in a place of the common people, rather than in his superfluous Tower. Passing the Temple of Kor’och on his left, Timeras leveled a gaze at it. Although he was a young man, he knew well the interior struggles of his city. Many a night spent listening to his people rave and complain had sketched a fairly vivid picture in his mind. This Kor’och.. Timeras gladly accepted. To force it on his poeple, though? Timeras shook his head and continued on, pushing the thoughts from his mind. These he would deal with, or be forced to deal with, in time. Reaching the Inn, Timeras smiled at it. He always seemed to welcome him with open arms. The sign over the entrance moved in the breeze, creaking as it swayed to and fro. He quickly stepped up to the door and inside.

A rush of warm air greeted him. Timeras flashed a grin at Ulther behind the bar, receiving a nod in return. Looking around the warm room, Timeras noted there weren’t many patrons about. A couple men sat drinking ale quietly, but Timeras did not see the need to procure a room for a meeting of old friends. Striding over to the table and sitting at its head, the warmth of the fire rushed over him. Almost immediately Trina was there, ale in hand, ”What’ll it be, boss? How many more ales m’I bringin’?” she smiled a kind smile and Timeras grinned.

”Two more, but I’d plan for many more.” Timeras gave her a wink, ”And if your heart truly be set on one man, I’d suggest you steer clear once these friends of mine arrive.”

Trina arched her brows, pretty blue eyes inquisitive. ”That so? Well a lady such as m’self can handle anythin’ jus’ fine, m’Lord.” The young woman curtsied and bustled away. Timeras shook his head and stared at the fire, leaning back in his chair. Oh, but if she only knew the trouble his friends could cause. Chuckling to himself, the Prince’s fingers tapped on the large table in anticipation. He hoped their stay would be long. Long enough, at the very least, to provide excitement to what seemed to be a dreary life.

Returning with his ale, Trina said quietly, ”And iff’n ye be warnin’ me, I’ll be warnin’ you. That pig Dahlen and his acquaintance Brem Surinaam be up meetin’ in a room. I don’t know if they be conspirin’, but I thought you’d like to know.” With that, the maiden seemed particularly edgy, and made her way back to the bar under Ulther’s protection. Timeras stared after her and took a gulp of his ale. Dahlen? And the Zealot of the old gods. Huh. Staring hard into the flames, Timeras wondered if he knew just how deep this rabbit hole would go. Just how much turmoil stirred in the heart of the city? Now brooding, Timeras was grateful for the barmaid’s information, but it left so much to the imagination his mind ran in circles playing out the possibilities; the steps that stupid oaf Dahlen might go so far as to take.
« Last Edit: October 10, 2007, 11:00:51 AM by Khel » Logged

..tell me your heart doesn't race for a hurricane or a burning building. -asw
Your pal, Khel
Mathis Mallister
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« Reply #8 on: October 10, 2007, 10:23:46 AM »

Tired of watching his brother suck on the skin of ale with nothing to satisfy his own thirsts, Mathis began yearning for something to swig himself. The brothers had visited the Wison's Breath a few times, but had their rooms in a smaller establishment - still, he had mentioned the spot as a likely place for the crown prince to meet them, and figured that it would be the best place to make themselves available. The crowds of the harbor were humbled by those of the great plaza, though both masses seemed equal in their apprehension. There was something different about their stirrings however, no mere desire to catch of glimpse of what it was they reviled most - something was happening.

Mathis seized a man pushing a cart by the arm and questioned him, learning of a small orc party at the gate, but apparently the guards were mobilized and ending the skirmish. Even so, a disturbing prospect. The orcs in question would be Losh-Oc, certainly, not capable of much in the way of strategy; dull creatures. But so dull a dozen of them would ride to their deaths beneath the walls of the strongest city in Northern Sarvonia? "There's more where that came from, or I'm a holy man," he told Gundioc as they left the plaza. There would be plenty of orcs to kill when the rest of them showed up, and if the guards couldn't handle a dozen of them then Remusiat deserved quite a change in Reputation. Bored, the brothers continued on towards Wison's Breath.

The selection of spirits in the inn wasn't as varied as Mathis would have liked, though he often considered himself spoiled by his short time in Milkengrad. He had never drank half so well as he did during those few years, and the northern wastes were not famed for their beverages, except perhaps horse milk, which he could not bring himself to touch. What he would give for a bottle of R'unorian Brandy, dated, stamped and certified to sow ruin and desolation. Mathis decided the best he could hope for here was Scutch or Stingo and sighed as he opened the door to the prestigious Remusian establishment. The warmth from the hearth was well received, for even in summer the entire city bore the chill of ice wine.

Mathis cast his eyes about, and sure enough, the prince sat at the head of the longest table in the room. Otherwise the inn seemed bereft of patronage, hardly a surprise, it being early afternoon at best. Few men were slaves to alcohol the way the Mallisters were. Mathis strode over and took a seat beside Timeras, adjusting his chair so it was slightly closer to the fire that burned behind him. He rubbed the numbness from his sleeveless arms with hardly a word, nearly ignoring the scion of monarchy. Those who knew Mathis Mallister were familiar with such peculiar rituals, it taking a few moments for him to notice the mug of ale before him. Grinning, he pushed it over towards the other mug, meant for Gundioc, and regarded Timeras, as if only now noticing him for the first time. "You should know I don't drink this horse water, sir," Finally his ravenous eyes flickered to the backside of the pretty young barmaid, calling out to her "In the name of whatever being it is that drives you to your knees these days, tell me you have some bloody wine."
Logged



take an eye for an eye, turn your heart into stone
this is all I have lived for, this is all I have known
Gundioc Mallister
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« Reply #9 on: October 10, 2007, 11:20:29 AM »

Though Gundioc’s waddle was slow, he was never more than a few paces behind his brother, a method of ambling the two often employed, for it allowed Mathis to pick up information Gundioc would otherwise ignore, belch or scoff at. This morning was no different, and by the time Gundioc had caught up with his sibling in their retreat from the harbor, Mathis had already found a delectable bit of news. Gundioc’s joyous laughter was tremendous as Mathis predicted a vaster number of orcs en route; something Gundioc could only hope for. Orcs! Gundioc loved orcs, or at least loved to kill orcs, especially the Losh-oc. Years of fighting the honorable (and tactically sound) Aszh-oc had done Gundioc well, but the Losh-oc were just downright buffoons when it came to warfare. Sure, they had numbers. Sure they were cunning and were vicious as the next animal, but Gundioc had killed his fair share of animals and didn’t see how this could be any different.

He pulled the empty skin from his person to celebrate war, but cursed after his lips found nothing but damp leather, and that only from his own salivating self. He threw the skin to the ground and his footsteps hurried to keep up with Mathis, finding renewed vigor in this chance at bloodshed.

Mathis led the pair to the Wison’s Breath Inn. The brothers had frequented this place more than others and only because it was located near the only brothels, or rather, the first brothels, that Gundioc had found during their brief stay in Remusiat. Gundioc debated whether his lust for drink or women was stronger, looking further down the milling streets and seeing the already familiar corner of that most debauched street. He decided upon drink, however, and soon after Mathis’ silhouette had faded into the welcoming glow, his own filled the frame of the door, inviting in the cold, Remusian air and earning him annoyed glances from the few other patrons, whose eyes quickly turned downward into their mugs after seeing Gundioc’s enormity and the hammer upon his back.

He took a deep breath and let out a great whistle as he watched a fetching young barmaid retreat behind the counter to retrieve drinks and mused that he had probably never noticed her before because he had been so drunk. On the other hand, perhaps she was new. Gundioc could only hope, it seemed he was full of hopes today. They would be here for some time, though, and for once, reason gripped the giant and he turned to where Mathis was already seated and not one, but two mugs waited for him!

“Timeras! You great flatterer you! After my own heart, when really you should be after hers!” Gundioc jerked a meaty fist and thumb back towards the counter, referring to the barmaid and took both mugs before him in each hand and began drinking as if dying of thirst. He slammed the mugs down seconds later and flopped into his chair, causing the woods to groan and creak ominously.

“Ha ha!” Gundioc gripped Timeras’ shoulder and wiped foam from his whiskers, the light in his eyes already brightening, “My brother here said you was a great buggering bastard that wouldn’t pay no heed to the likes of us, but look at this!” Gundioc’s immense voice carried throughout the tavern and startled the silence itself that was so profound before his arrival. Mathis gave his brother a wry grin and Gundioc continued, “Yes, look at this...”
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He who makes a beast of himself
gets rid of the pain of being a man.
Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin
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« Reply #10 on: October 10, 2007, 12:29:23 PM »

Ulther, the Bartender

Ulther was busy setting up for the night, making sure that he had plenty of semi-clean mugs, a great stock of ale, as well as an assortment of spirits, and even a bottle of wine, though it had a thick coat of dust.  Why he had that bottle left, he wasn't sure.  No one ordered wine here.  It was an expensive luxury from the south.  After this bottle sold, if it sold, he would not replace it.  Was no point.  He paused as another patron approached the bar.  He placed a hand near a mug, attempting to discern from observation, what this man might be ordering.

"Who might I see about being an entertainer at this fine establishment?"

Ulther raised an eyebrow.  Entertainment?  In here?  He opened his mouth to tell the stranger to order a drink or get out, then closed it once more.  Perhaps he was being too hasty.  He looked over the man's shoulder to where a figure sat, none other than Timeras hisself.  If that type of person could be tempted to come here more often, then of course, the more profit there was to be had.  Not to mention perhaps keeping the dead bodies that got dragged from here down to maybe one or two a week. 

He looked the stanger up and down.  He didn't seem like much, but then, those musical types never did.  "Ok, I'll try you out tonight, for nothin' but a meal and a drink or two of ale.  If I like what I hear, then you can stay.  You get a room, two san a week, and you help clean up at night.  Take it or leave it, I aint got all night."
Logged

Favorite Cartoon Quotes
"It was a dark and stormy night."  - Snoopy
"Ack!" - Bill the Cat
"I did not have sex with that woman, Monica Lewinski." - President Bill Clinton

My Character can be viewed @Angelina Jolie's house.  But knock first, in case I'm in my underwear.
Khel
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Human, Eyelian


« Reply #11 on: October 10, 2007, 12:59:57 PM »

Timeras

It wasn't long before the Inn's door opened and Timeras snapped out of his imaginings to look towards it. Making his way across the room the younger Mallister had a recognizable saunter, and Timeras grinned a toothy grin despite himself. Mathis altogether ignored him, which did not offend Timeras in the slightest. In fact, he enjoyed the experience of equality with with unnoticed. Studying him as he rubbed his bare arms, Timeras mused at his appearance. Always dressed to grandeure, the opposite, it seemed, of his brother who followed him through the doorway. They looked at home within a Tavern, although usually one with more grime and dirt suited them just fine. The chiseled feature of this man would probably attract any maiden in the city. His fine clothes drew attention to him, but nothing like the loudness Gundioc possessed. "You should know I don't drink this horse water, sir."

His tone caused a deep throated chuckle to escape Timeras. Typical, he thought, and as per usual he ignored the complaint completely. Timeras enjoyed the antics of the Mallisters, but rarely found himself encouraging them. As he called out to Trina for some wine, Timeras studied Gundioc. A raving lunatic, this man was. However, it was an almost endearing sight to see him saunter through the common room roaring, "Timeras! You great flatterer you! After my own heart, when really you should be after hers!” Jerking a thumb at Trina, who was scrambling to find some wine, Timeras caught her eye and shook his head in apology. Ah, surely he had not given her a proper warning. However, he was anxious to see the scrambling young woman come up with a way to handle it, as she was so confident she could.

He drank his and Mathis' ale without a breather in between, and slammed the the mugs down on the table. The whole fiasco sent ale sloshing about. “Ha ha! My brother here said you was a great buggering bastard that wouldn’t pay no heed to the likes of us, but look at this!” The loud man's voice almost shook the Inn, "Yes, look at this...” Shooting a meaningful glance at Trina, Timeras reached across the table to grasp the older Mallister's hand firmly in welcome. The disgusting man took some getting used to, the young Prince forgot it in his absence. Somehow the Prince had bonded with the uncouth brothers and learned to love them fondly as his own kin.

"Gundioc, you dog, you've spilled on your..." Pausing, Timeras scrunched his face in jest and plucked at the edge of Gundioc's cloak with distate, "This will pass for clothing where you come from?" Wiping his hand on his tunic with an exaggerated motion, he turned away from the man in apparent disgust. Looking pointedly at Mathias, he said, "And I'd hoped you'd steer him safely away from his life as a member of the pack." Grinning, Timeras placed a hand fondly on the man's shoulder. There were no words, of course, towards any sort of sentimentality between the three. Such would be so uncommon Timeras would hope to wake from the nightmare immediately. This was the company he craved and longed for.

Still grinning, Timeras glanced up as Trina's blue eyes were locked on him. His lips parted in silent mirth as she quickly placed their only bottle of wine and three glasses on the table, not breaking her gaze with the prince. Ah, the lass was just as scared as Timeras had thought. He hoped Gundioc would not be so hard on her, he wouldn't want a bout with whoever the young man was who held this woman's heart, for he would surely be holding fast to it.

"What racy tales will spill from the drunken mouths of two infamous brothers tonight?" Timeras glanced at the two and winked, "For I do intend to hear them all." His voice was light and kind, but deep. Timeras bubbled with joy at their arrival, he would enjoy their presence for as long as he would.
Logged

..tell me your heart doesn't race for a hurricane or a burning building. -asw
Your pal, Khel
Mathis Mallister
Righteous in Wrath
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Human, Erpheronian


« Reply #12 on: October 10, 2007, 02:32:38 PM »

"No need for tales this time, not when news will suffice." The grin on Mathis' face soured, ending up somewhere more akin to a snarl. "The way I hear it, at this very moment your wall patrols are fighting off a dozen or so orcs. They rode right up to the western gate, in pursuit of a scout. Call me of cloudy mind if you like, but there's not a shadow of a doubt that theres a good deal more about, and close for them to pull a stunt like that."

Mathis took the bottle of wine in hand, eschewing the supererogatory obfuscation of the glasses. "A horde approaches your city sir, I'd bet all the wine in Remusiat on it." The head and neck dusted by this robes and the cork removed, Mathis took a modest sip from the well aged bottle. For a few moments he let the substance saturate his taste buds, judging flavor as well as texture. Satisfactory on all accounts. He swallowed and took a more respectable swig.
Logged



take an eye for an eye, turn your heart into stone
this is all I have lived for, this is all I have known
Tobac
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« Reply #13 on: October 10, 2007, 03:32:55 PM »

 The bartender turned, though his attention was soon focused somewhere behind Tobac. He was about to turn his head, when he noticed the man seemed to be inspecting Tobac, and he knew it was a done deal.
 "Ok, I'll try you out tonight, for nothin' but a meal and a drink or two of ale.  If I like what I hear, then you can stay.  You get a room, two san a week, and you help clean up at night.  Take it or leave it, I aint got all night." answered the bartender, to which Tobac replied, "Well, it seems much better than my last job."
 Unfortunately, it really was. Tobac still had quite a few bruises from a recent job at The Fried Rat. At least the food would be better. Hopefully.
Logged
Kyrridhil Culná mo
Hapless Romantic
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Elf, Aellenhrim / Eophyrhim.


« Reply #14 on: October 11, 2007, 01:10:11 AM »

"Timeras! You great flatterer you! After my own heart, when really you should be after hers!” bellowed from the door way. Kyrridhil was shook awake by the great boom that was the man's voice. Who the bloody hell is Timeras? he wondered. He looked up to the far end of the table to see the large man greeting a rather thinner man That must be Timeras he thought.

Kyrridhil found himself gawping at the 'attire' of the man. It seemed to hang from him like an extra layer of skin. Timeras seemed to notice this too. Looking the man up and down Kyrridhil felt himself enraged by him How dare that piece of filth talk to a beautiful lady such as her like that! The insolence! Kyrridhil felt blood rush to his head but supressed it. Knowing that if he started a scene here, he was likely to lose the favour of the barmaid.

It was only after 'Timeras' acknowledged the thinner man that Kyrridhil noticed him. He was smaller than the other but they seemed similar, almost as if they were brothers. Compared to the larger man though, he stood as if he had an arrow stuck up his arse. He stood very precisely and all of his movements were carefully measured. Kyrridhil could tell that he dressed to impress. His attire was polished to a gleam and not a single hair was out of place. Despite all of this though, he had a very grim air around him, it seemed as if he had seen more death than an abbatoir. Kyrridhil made a mental note not to get on the bad side of him.

Kyrridhil looked back to the bar to find the bard and the bartender in conversation about entertainment. Oh god spare me and with that thought, Kyrridhil went back to sleep.
Logged

Smell that? Yeah thats you wallowing in self pity.
Deal With It

-Kyrridhil Culná mo to a Remusian guard after being told he had brittle hair.
Kyrridhil Culná Mo
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