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Author Topic: The Courtyard Tavern and Inn  (Read 11324 times)
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Sývaein Sorossa
Scintillating Firestarter
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Human, Erpheronian


« Reply #30 on: April 14, 2010, 11:23:54 AM »

Syvaein had been resting off to one side for a while now. There had been some business about a murder, and some simpering idiot had been dragged off in irons. All was well and good, and the guards had cleared off. He hadn't really being paying any attention to it. When he walked into the inn however, he was surprised by the sight of a figure clad in white. Well, suitably travel worn white. Dust had coated parts of the stranger's- wait. No. It couldn't be. There was a thump as a man fell to the floor by the bar.
"By the towers!" he exclaimed
Syvaein rushed to the side of the prone figure.
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The world will end in beautiful prose
And terrible fire
Just because it should
Ylva Rasmussan
Oddball Healer
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Human, Murmillion.


« Reply #31 on: April 18, 2010, 01:21:45 PM »

Date: 29th Singing Bird, 4th Hour of Guardorans (Midnight)

The tavern owner watched as the guards cleared off, he turned towards the swordsman and shrugged, “Be no trouble to me, sir. It’s 15 san a night.” Nahrvil peered down at the man’s dusty clothes. The inn was used to more wealthy patrons, merchants and diplomats, not men who looked like they’d trekked through the Rahaz-Dath desert. The innkeeper smiled, “But I’ll make it 13 san in exchange for your kind offer of protection.”
As he spoke, new customers seeped into the tavern, dressed oddly in fancy dress and masks, no doubt having come from the big masquerade at the Nermeran embassy. The old barman frowned, “That’s strange,"  He whispered to the white robed gentleman next to him, "Usually they don’t start arriving till Shadowleave, did the ball finished early or something?”

“It got a bit out of control.”
Answered one panicked party-goer, sweat trickling down behind his dark mask.

The bald elder’s brow wrinkled as he raised a single bushy eyebrow in confusion, “Don’t it always get like that? I should know I get the dregs in here, crawling in for more drink after the party’s over. “

The masked patron shook his head, “Was different this time, a big fight, bigger than normal, then this magic elven lady speaks, and it’s like…” The man paused as though remembering a vision or a dream. “She got into your mind…” Behind the dark mask, his eyes went misty as he stood there daydreaming for a moment, before his mind came back once again to carry on telling his story. “…This assassin comes out of nowhere, tries to kill a lord, but then some Seyellite stops her. No idea what happened after that, everyone left after the fight. But the assassin got away.”

The tavern owner ran a hand over his hairless head, turning back to the white knight, “Looks like we might be needing that protection…”

As he spoke, the barkeep heard a thud and a clatter, turning to see as one of his customers clattering onto a table, falling into unconsciousness. The poor fellow looked badly injured, Nahrvil was no doctor but the man’s leg looked pretty bad.

“By the gods,” Making his way through the crowd, he batted the curious onlookers away, “Give him some room.” Behind him he heard light footsteps coming through the backdoor into the bar. Iylia had arrived for her late shift.

“Where’s Ferlin?” The young woman called out, confused as to the barman’s disappearance. Nahrvil flapped away her question, “No time to explain, go get the doctor, we may need him.”

Taking one look at the unmoving man, the barmaid nodded, running out the door again to fetch a doctor. The innkeeper turned back to see a brown robed man running to the injured man's side, “Are you a healer? I thought Dalorins wore white?”
« Last Edit: April 21, 2010, 04:10:13 AM by Ylva Rasmussan » Logged
Sývaein Sorossa
Scintillating Firestarter
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« Reply #32 on: May 09, 2010, 10:10:48 AM »

"I'm supposed to be an entertainer, but no one seems to mind that". He said absentmindedly. Dalorins were a bunch of prats anyways.

Syvaein peered at the wound with some curiosity There had been one student who had tried to warm some mead at the Wasted Wizard with fire magic. The foolish bastard had manage to cause the tankard to explode and he'd been cut badly by the jagged metal bands that had originally held the wood together. What had they done? Damn.

"His leg is torn open something fierce, I could close it up, but I but the best I know to do is mend burns."
It was true that Syvaein knew a little healing. He could seal up the wound yes, but he didn't know if it would do more harm than good.
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The world will end in beautiful prose
And terrible fire
Just because it should
Leofric Crowder
Mysterious Ranger
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« Reply #33 on: May 24, 2010, 11:43:11 PM »

Leofric had come to the Palace to find some work as a bodyguard or escort. He had arrived late in the day and so he thought it would be a good idea to explore the city. He speant the rest of the day wandering around the city looking at shops for supplies, some of which included, some pipe weed, a spare quiver filled with arrows and some medicinal suuplies incase he needed them.

He stooped as he walked with his hood up which hid his features and scarred face and his dark brown eyes. He wore his black leather armour ontop of a short sleeved shirt. He wore a black leather kilt comming to just above the knee, under this he wore black leather trousers ending with heavy leather boots. On top of all this he wore a long black cloak which covered most of his body.

He was on his way to the stables to check on his horse when he saw a strange figure duck down an ally way clutching his leg, he seemed to be in a lot of pain. He waited for him to leave the alleyway beofore following him into the tavern.

He hung back as he watched him collapse on the floor. Leofric walked up to the prone figure and saw someone already near him. He crouched down next to the enertainer and said.
"Help me take him to somewhere more...private, I know a thing or two about wounds." He explained as he grabbed the prone figure's upper body. He he motioned to the entertainer to do the same and he looked at the tavern owner.
"Is there anywhere private we oculd take him?" He asked, normally he didn't like talking, but he took the prone figure to be a ranger like him and so he was oblidged to help him.
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Cyradin Lawabel
Masterful Merchant
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« Reply #34 on: November 04, 2010, 09:38:56 PM »

"Raworaan," Cyradin called out to his nephew, and nudged the boy with a hand. Cyradin had been woken when the boy had started screaming in his sleep. This had been the first time this had ever happened to Raworaan and the scream would probably sound to anyone outside the room that the boy was being murdered or something. Cyradin hoped that it didn't disturb or wake anyone, although he knew that was possibly a forlorn hope.
« Last Edit: November 04, 2010, 09:52:30 PM by Cyradin Lawabel » Logged

Chasing Rabbits!
Cyr's CD
Raworaan
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Human, Kyranian


« Reply #35 on: November 04, 2010, 09:50:14 PM »

Raworaan let out a blood-curdling scream as the figure drew back its sword and swung it at the boy's head. Suddenly he heard a voice that cut through his confusion and fear, and he said, "Uncle Cyr?"

His uncle's eyes were wild and wide and Raworaan thought his were probably no better.

"I had a dream, a nightmare uncle Cyr," Raworaan said, "I was being hunted down, and I was trapped and he was going to kill me and ..."

The boy burst into tears at that, tears that shook his body.
« Last Edit: November 04, 2010, 10:12:52 PM by Raworaan » Logged

If anyone out there calls those two 'teenagers' I'll turn them into frogs. The correct term is adolescence and the only good thing that comes out of it is that most everyone grows out of it. (paraphrasing David Eddings)
Raworaan's CD
Cyradin Lawabel
Masterful Merchant
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Human, Kyranian


« Reply #36 on: November 04, 2010, 09:55:57 PM »

Cyradin listened to what his nephew said and as soon as Raworaan had started crying, he had the boy in his arms, rocking him back and forth. "It's alright," he said, "just a nightmare, that won't happen to you, I won't let it happen to you."

Cyradin kept an ear out for people coming to the room, he expected that any moment now a knock might be heard on the door to the room ... or the door would be busted down or something.
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Chasing Rabbits!
Cyr's CD
Markus Boadicea
The Lonely Wanderer
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Human, Erpheronian


« Reply #37 on: March 26, 2011, 10:09:02 PM »

Markus lay there, bleeding, on the floor of a filthy tavern. This certainly wasn't the way he thought he would leave this world, but if it was to happen then so be it.


His mind faded in and out, each time the darkness parted he welcomed a world of chaos; a world of colour unrestricted by focus complimented by a cacophony of sound.

The sounds and lights of the world around Markus were distorted, jumbled; he couldn't make any coherent sense of anything, but he could sense a confusion in those vague things of light and sound, almost a sensation of panic. They pulled and tugged at his damaged body, constantly adjusting it, repositioning it; Markus could feel a resentment towards them growing in himself.
His concentration was drawn away from the whispering, muttering, screaming clouds of colour as a pungent combination of blood and rum assaulted his nostrils and burned at the back throat as he laboured to draw breathable air from the intense odors which endlessly stream from the floorboards beneath Markus.
 
Markus's sensed this alien world of dancing noise and reverberating colour begin to fall into itself as his consciousness withdraw into the familiar silence of his mind; and then he was in the dark place again.
« Last Edit: March 27, 2011, 09:55:01 AM by Markus Boadicea » Logged

No one holds command over me. No man. No god. No prince. What is a claim of age for ones who are immortal? What is a claim of power for ones who defy death? Call your damnable hunt. We shall see who I drag screaming to hell with me.

http://www.santharia.com/adv/index.php?topic=7491.0
Raworaan
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« Reply #38 on: June 01, 2011, 08:31:03 PM »

Being comforted by his uncle was an interesting and not all too unpleasant experience, although he was pleased that neither Sharlah or Nenio were here to see this ... for some reason he thought they'd find it amusing to see him being hugged by his uncle.

"Thank you Uncle Cyr," Raworaan said to his uncle, "I believe you. I ... I was frightened by it ... it seemed so real."

Footsteps were heard outside in the hall, and there was banging on the door.

"What's happening in there," came a female voice, the voice of one of the serving girls, Raworaan thought.

"Go see who it is," Raworaan told his uncle, "tell them I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb the inn."

« Last Edit: June 01, 2011, 08:33:44 PM by Raworaan » Logged

If anyone out there calls those two 'teenagers' I'll turn them into frogs. The correct term is adolescence and the only good thing that comes out of it is that most everyone grows out of it. (paraphrasing David Eddings)
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Cyradin Lawabel
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Human, Kyranian


« Reply #39 on: June 01, 2011, 08:43:15 PM »

"Thank you Uncle Cyr," Raworaan said to his uncle, "I believe you. I ... I was frightened by it ... it seemed so real."

You'll have to tell me about it, lets see if we can work out what's behind it," Cyradin told his nephew, "believe me, I won't let any harm come to you, Raw."

Footsteps were heard outside in the hall, and there was banging on the door.

"What's happening in there," came a female voice, the voice of one of the serving girls, Raworaan thought.

"Go see who it is," Raworaan told his uncle, "tell them I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb the inn."

"As you wish," Cyradin said, leaving his nephew on his bed, before going to the door, and opening it.

Outside the room was one of the serving girls that Cyradin remembered from downstairs earlier in the evening.

"I was sent up to check on the noise, Sir," she said, "it sounded like someone was hurt."

"My nephew got a fright. He was asleep and had a nightmare, that's all. He and I will talk about it. I apologise for any inconvenience and will pay any recompense deemed necessary for the disturbance to the peace," Cyradin said, inviting her in to the room.

The serving girl wandered over to the bed where Raworaan was lying, wide awake.

"How are you," the serving girl asked Raworaan, looking at his freckled face and deeply into his eyes.
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Chasing Rabbits!
Cyr's CD
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