The Everlasting Symphony: IC.

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Tyendinaga
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Re: The Everlasting Symphony: IC.

#16 Post by Tyendinaga »

Keetara nodded at his companion. <Guten abend.> He rolled his eyes at Erik's fancy tricks, then responded lazily. <Ich schlaffe nicht gut gehabt, traurig. Die Betten sind hart und gepolstert mit Bug-Kadaver.> Keetara sighed. <Ich nehme an, das ist, was wir bezahlt haben.>

Keetara continued to cast his gaze across the room. People were gathering around a young Avean, fascinated by her bow. Keetara knew a bit better than that -homemade bows are special to their maker, that he understood- but she'd get a great deal more power out of it if it were a recurve like Keetara's. Oh well, to each their own.

He was stirred from his thoughts by the familiar bass rumble of Kristoph. "Howdy you two." Keetara looked up at the young man. "Mind if I join you?"

"Guten abend, Kristoph," Keetara said warmly. "Please, sit. I have something I wish to discuss with the both of you."

Kristoph offered a slight nod, Though before he would come to sit, he curiously turned his head back towards the so called patrons, noticing that a few others seemed to be making their way out of the wood works, a group of them particularly finding their way towards the Bow wielding lady he had spied only moments earlier. Though his face held its firm unemotional visage, internally he could feel himself scowling if only a slight bit, only to moments later mentally tuck such feelings aside. Something about masked hood wearing shady folks always seemed to leave a bad taste in the mouth, but of course a wise man would try his best to hold back such feelings on unease. There was no point in being biased; After all, such things did little but cloud the mind.

"I see." He mumbled out in a low tone, his vision shifting back towards his two seated companions. It wasn't like these two Basili weren't shady either. Kristoph just happened to actually know them. With a simple shuffling he moved around Keetara, finding himself on the other side of the man where upon he pulled back a chair, sat the sizeable mug of ice down on the wooden table with an audible thump, and promptly sat down. Once seated he moved his legs about and gripped the chair, scooting himself forward and against the tables edge.

"So, Sounds like you've been up to some thinking, Keetara." He finally spoke as he found himself settled, his eyes darting over to Erik before coming back to Keetara.

Erik shuddered. <Insekten? Ekelhaften Kreaturen...> He hated bugs more than pretty much anything else. They were just so... small, and slippery, and shiny. He shuddered again at the thought, but before he could contemplate further, Kristoph joined them. He nodded greetings to the human. <Nun, was is-> He paused, then switched to common for Kristoph. "Sorry. What are you... have to speak, Keetara?"

Keetara motioned to another table. "Look over there, where they are playing card games. Do you see the colorful avean?" As his companions looked, he continued. "His luck is incredible. He has increased his wealth three-fold in the short time he has been sitting there -practically drained the pockets of the men he has been playing with- and yet neither of them are angry."

Placing an elbow on the edge of the table, Kristoph rested his cheek upon it. His Eyes shifted off to the side, finding them locked onto the card player for a scant few moments. It was true enough that such a thing was impressive, but he himself wasn't exactly the most interested in such things. His eyes shifted back to Keetara. He could understand though, why it seemed his shady friend here would be interested in such a person. He smiled.

"It sounds like You've got yourself a crush."

Erik snickered into a scaled palm. This human language was still a work in progress for him, but he understood enough to get Kristoph's joke. "Ah yes, I was forgetting you were liking the feathered ones, eh?" He nudged Keetara with his elbow, grinning, but fell back into a more serious composure almost right away. "Is, how-ever, very odd indeed. Would you like to be asking... Crush about trick? Maybe is thief, maybe magic like you." He paused. "Maybe not magic like you; Both men still alive."

"My bundle it was stole, In a neat locality;" Jack sang, the same broad smile still breaking loose every few seconds as she slid between crowded tables, placing thick mugs at their fingers. Despite her strenuous activities she danced without strain, well-kept brown hair tossing about her head. "Danced some hearty jigs, The water round me bubblin'," She waved acknowledgements at the cacophony of orders, spinning about with sloshing cups gripped in both hands, not a drop escaping.

"Called myself a fool; I could no longer stand it," Her pace slowed for a moment, then resumed with greater vigor as she handed off a jug to the large fur trader, thumping away to the table occupied by the two Basilis, the newly arrived human, Was that a tankard of ice? and the fascinating spider which surely belonged to the first Basili. Her wild jig ended as she neared their table.

"A mead, and a mead." Jack said, lowering her voice to avoid startling the sleeping creature on their table. Fresh flagons were set before the two Basili, the last of her rounds. Goff trundled away, resuming his much lightened duties as Jack looked over the group; her curious assessment blatant and finding a more subtle match. The older Basili, for surely he was older with his multitude of scars and voice-the orange feathered lizard had a rougher tone at the moment, but Jack knew it as the fuzziness of awakening-had been watching the room. Not unusual for mercenaries, but it was wise to stay alerted to the likewise most wary, and thus dangerous.

The former temporary bar wench leaned towards the dozing spider and glanced up at its presumed Basili owner, her hands clasped in fervent entreaty. "Does your pet mind a bit of rubbing from me?" Jack asked, wide brown eyes and just a hint of quivering lip shouting her burning interest in the massive arachnid. The very potent danger of having her face attacked by the same creature failed to dampen her ardor; giant spiders were giant spiders and deserved her full attention.

Keetara opened his mouth to respond in confusion to Kristoph's joke, but was cut off by the dancing barmaid. "A mead, and a mead," she whispered.
She's too good, Keetara thought. Her movements are erratic, but she doesn't spill the drinks. Either she's using illusion magic (unlikely) or she's trained in balance. The full stien placed before him confirmed his suspicions. "Thank you," Keetara smiled to the lass. < Schauen Sie sich Ihre Geldbörsen, Freunde> he muttered to his companions, hoping Kristoph would understand.

Erik nodded once, then calmly turned his head a fraction of the way towards Kristoph, shooting him a - hopefully meaningful - sidelong glance. He pulled out a coin to fiddle with while he watched the discourse between Jack and Keetara.

"Does your pet mind a bit of rubbing from me?" asked the barmaid.
"That would be entirely up to him, my dear," Keetara replied, continuing his air of warmth.

“Yes!” Jack tamped an exuberant cheer down to a quiet hiss. She moved her hands towards her goal, but drew them back after an inch of movement to begin patting down her clothing. The note was briefly produced and read, hidden in her hands, then tucked away after the swiftest of glances. “A moment, I have, I have, yes, here.” A finger length of dried meat was produced from a small pouch on her belt.
Jack clicked her tongue at the chittering spider, holding out the thin strip between thumb and index finger for it to grasp a hands-breadth away from where it sat. “No salt, no spice, no poison.” She assured them, shutting out the noises of the tavern in favor of the curiosity before her. “Nip my finger if you like, but you’ll see no more meat from me.”

Goral twitched awake at the sound of a clicking tongue and looked at the offered meat. He grabbed it roughly from Jack's hand and immediately began to cocoon it. Once wholly encased, he dug his mandibles in, hoping to suck out all the juices of his prey... And then punted the cocoon away, thoroughly disappointed.

"Ha, looks like he didn't like it too much, lass," Keetara chuckled. "He seems to prefer live prey, from what I've seen. You can pet him; you're probably a bit big for his tastes anyway."

Not put out in the slightest by Goral's rejection of her offering, Jack needed no further prompting: with the air of reaching for a priceless artifact, her hands slowly approached Goral, muttering soothing nonsense.

Goral made an odd cooing noise, and shivered at the woman's soft touch. After a moment, he was sound asleep again.

"I suppose he forgives you of your poor gift," Keetara smiled. "Thanks for giving him some attention."

"I'll remember to bring him something juicier next time." Jack beamed, slipping away from their table after waving a jaunty farewell to the Basili's companions, a hand sliding across the table occupied by a lone white-haired man at the window on her way. Rather than return to the bards, she began dancing about once more throughout the inn.

Keetara looked back at his companions. "The young man's luck certainly is unnatural," Keetara agreed. "If we are to land a contract that will allow us to afford better beds, we will need that luck." Keetara leaned back in his chair, fingering his stien lightly. He gave it a hard stare, then spoke. "You should invite him over here for a drink, Kristoph."

Letting out what amounted to a deep sigh, Kristoph begrudgingly moved his hand from his face, pressing it against the coarse edge of the table in front of him. With a simple push, and twisting of the legs he squeezed himself out from behind the table and onto his feet and behind Keetara. Taking a bit of time to dust himself off and ensure his cloak was properly secured to conceal his body; All the while, he took a few moments to glance around the room once again. Strangely enough it seemed as if people were popping out of nowhere, newer people he hadn't noticed before.

'Maybe I should Get my vision checked.' he muttered to himself, giving his head a slight shake. His vision though, settled on the Avean at the far corner. A small fellow. Instinctively, he looked at the back of Keetara's head. As if to mentally ask a question. Not like there was any answer to be found, at least he would hope that there would be no answer back. Finally though, his eyes settled on the colourful Avean card player.

'I don't know why but I get the feeling he might not be a drinker.'

With almost cautious steps he made his way through from one side of the Inn to the other, carefully stepping around people all the while keeping his eyes on the one he was heading towards, simple side steps, soft touches to the back as he manuevered around people. Overall, the place was a bit packed, but that was to be expected. After what seemed like an eternity, or rather a whole eight seconds, Kristoph found himself where he wanted to be. With a slowing pace he found himself walking up behind the group, boots clattering out with soft thuds on the floor beneath them, He placed a hand on the shoulders of each of the two men this young bird seemed to be taking for a ride.

"Well Now." He spoke, leaning in, his head sitting between those of the two men. "If I didn't know any better..." he paused looking between the two men with what could only be described as an almost mocking face."...I'd day the two of you have gotten the coins beaten out of you like the taxes get beaten out of the kings farmers." He chuckled a slight bit. "And I'd reckon he's better at it too." He spoke, a strangely encouraging smile brewing on his face as he look down the center and towards the Avean in question. "I'm Afraid I haven't caught your name."

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Re: The Everlasting Symphony: IC.

#17 Post by Stryder221 »

"Ah, so it's bows, is it? Now I feel left out!" Said the currently unknown man suddenly. "While I'm no expert, preferring guns myself, I will say that does look like a quality bow, nice and sturdy."

He then straightened visibly as he realized it was his cue to introduce himself.
"How rude of me, I haven't even mentioned my name. It is Varil, Varil Tringham..." The young man, Varil, grinned at that point, an honest to god sparkle visible near his face for whatever reason. "A pleasure to meet you."
Varil then turned his attention to the other archer in their little group, that archer being Trevor.

"Oh, you too? I should've guessed!" He then gave a slight chuckle as he soon addressed the masked man(?).
"And you would be yet another archer of some kind, I imagine? Would I be correct, mister...? Or, uh, miss...?" His words trailed off right then as he just now realized that the masked entity had not introduced itself, and that it had no visible gender.
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Re: The Everlasting Symphony: IC.

#18 Post by y7h65 »

"You may call me Beck," Maskerad replied, their voice dull, as their focus pointed towards the newcomer, the newly identified Varil. Ignoring the rather immature barb he decided to use to enter the conversation, there was something about this man that rubbed him the wrong way. From the way the man entered the conversation to the way the man talked, he just oozed egotism and arrogance. She didn't even need to scout the man to make a guess at his heritage. His clothes, his manners, and his very presence just shouted noble or, at a very minimum, someone who had been decently well off. The type of person that they associated with long enough to rob blind. But the question was, what was a nobleman, disgraced judging by the quality of his clothes, doing in a mercenary city? An interesting thread but unlikely to be relevant to any of the goals that were to be completed tonight. "I suppose you could say that I'm an archer of sorts as well. More of a crossbow user."

"However," Maskerad continued, an odd tone filling their voice. It was neither aggressive or annoyed but there was most definitely something confrontational within it. Amusement, perhaps? Maybe even actual interest, were the voice not simply bored sounding as it normally was. "What I am interested in, however, is you."

Pointing his finger at the new man, Maskerad... smiled? Maybe? There was definitely a hint of an expression there but a combination of light and the way the mask was constructed obscured it from view. "You dress like a nobleman, though your clothes have clearly seen better days. You carry yourself with an air of confidence, a trait not too uncommon from those who have yet become jaded by the line of work that would be found here. Despite being in a mercenary bar, you act with a sense of presumptuousness that could very well get you stabbed were one of us less tolerant of such displays. Furthermore despite admonishing Trevor and I for being unfriendly in appearance you display a surprising lack of social tact, actually demanding that we ignore you after you barge into a conversation."

As Maskerad continued to list his observations about the man, their voice dropped to a bored tone; the tone of a man who was simply stating facts that had been memorized. As they finished they let their head rest in their left hand, fingers drumming the right check of the mask. "Hmmmmmmm," Maskerad murmured, apparently deep in thought. "Truly, you must be an uncouth man. Likely one who must require the confirmation of other's admiration to survive. Truly pitiable. If you feel that you are in desperate need of some positive admiration, I would suggest some of the bar wenches or the women at the bar. You may have more in relation with them."

With that off their chest Maskerad turned back to the other three, his hand scrawling something onto a scrap of paper. Focusing on the two in front of her, she reached behind her and into the back of her jacket. With one smooth action, they drew one of their hand crossbows and laid it on the table in front of them; the weapon unloaded and with the arm rest folded up against the top of the weapon. In the dim light of the bar the forged metal parts glowed slightly, bringing attention to a detailed cloud covered sun carved into the grip. The arms of the hand crossbow, on the other hand, are notably of different and lower quality manufacture than the rest of the weapon.

"Well," Maskerad started, a hint of what may be embarrassment in their voice. It was, at a minimum, something not too dissimilar from a sheepish tone. "I am afraid my weapons are a bit more suited for close to mid range combat than yours. While I may have a talent for machines and the more mechanical portions of my weapon, I must admit that my work on the actual bow sections of Dimma is less than perfect. I was actually curious as if you could give me any tips to improve the build of the bow without sacrificing my ability to arm it with one hand."

As they posed their question Maskerad picked his now empty glass of water up and held it above his head for a moment, just long enough for Jack to swing by and grab it. Hidden in his palm was the slip of paper, one that was quickly picked up by the woman before Maskerad had even let go of his empty glass.
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Re: The Everlasting Symphony: IC.

#19 Post by the red soldier »

The big fur trader took another swig of his newly refreshed mug as he laughed aloud. "Just so my odd looking friend!" He said merrily to the red haired man. "No man or demon can beat the Tiny Peddler in any game of luck!" The silk merchant however was getting used to the idea of losing a small fortune in one night. "I would be angrier truth be told... If I was not using my own dice... Ah well, I was warned before hand. The only fool here is I." Not one to drink stale else, the silk robed man had a bottle of wine in his hand and took fine sips of it here and there as he left them with a small bow.

Rikklin, pocketing his newly acquired spice of cinnamon, eyed the new comer. "I was called Rikklin by my father. A Basili name they say." He said, glancing at the two Basili the man was with earlier. "Are you interested in a a game of dice or cards? I'm afraid you will have to bring your own card game or dice set. That last time I brought my own I was accused of cheating..." He said the last words so sadly, as if an honest boy accused of lying. The fur trader, as if on cew let out a roar of a laugh. "Can ya blame em Rikklin? You never lose!"
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Re: The Everlasting Symphony: IC.

#20 Post by Hotep the psychic »

Trevor noted the man named varil, although he barged in on the conversation like a buffoon he dully noted his weapon of use and ignored his sayings, "well beck considering your question Build wise, most traditional styles for bows you need to arm with one hand. I would have to see your build to get a better idea on what youd like, and such. What have you used other than your crossbow?" trevor said before calling the waitress to get him a drink.
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Re: The Everlasting Symphony: IC.

#21 Post by Stryder221 »

If there was anything that would've wiped the smile off Varil's face, it was that. He sat in silence as "Beck" decided to tear him a new one, only speaking once they were finished.

Of course, when he did speak, he seemed entirely different. He didn't seem particularly angry, but there certainly was no more smiles or pleasantries to be seen.
"While I do admit being a bit tactless at times, more than I'd care to admit, that was plain rude. Don't think I don't know your type, knave. I would advise against thinking of me as some blue-blooded pretty boy playing soldier for attention, it will save you much trouble."

With a sigh, he seemed to deflate, a sad sort of smile visible on his face.
"At least you are honest; this time anyway. I can't blame you for thinking of me in that regard... Truly pitiable... Please, forgive me for speaking and acting so rudely."
It was then that he waved to the woman currently serving the drinks. "Ale, if you please!" He called, afterward listening to the others belonging to this group in silence.
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Re: The Everlasting Symphony: IC.

#22 Post by DarkTheImmortal »

As Avis listened to the group's introductions, she looked around, taking note of who was around, which she should have done before. She noticed mostly humans, but also noticed a couple Basili and another Avean. With the observation of few Aveans, she began to wonder how much she stood out. She was in a small trance during this time, but did manage to pick up the other's names and quickly snapped out of it. "Well, it's a pleasure meeting you all." She examined the crossbow Beck had placed on the table and listened to the advice Trevor gave to Beck. "I'm afraid I have very little experience with crossbows, even less with metal." She listened as Beck and Varil had a small dispute, but it seemed Varil didn't want it to continue, and she hoped that Beck wanted the same.

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Re: The Everlasting Symphony: IC.

#23 Post by y7h65 »

"In a place like this," Maskerad said, turning to face Varil as they made a sweeping movement with their arm and motioned at the inn and city at large. "What I committed was not an act of rudeness. It was simply a wiser man giving another advice." Bored dull amethyst eyes gazed out at Varil, the expression contained in them unreadable. "This is a mercenary town, child. When you are among a pack of wolves you do not wish to appear as anything besides a wolf, lest you are hunted by those around you and torn to shreds. How others see you, how you present yourself are all a way for those in here to differentiate between a wolf and prey. You may make guesses as to my motivation and as to how I see you but do not misunderstand my words for simple purposeful antagonism. It is better you know and understand the realities of the world you find yourself in lest you discover it the hard way. After all, a harsh lash from a tongue is infinitely better than a blade through the chest, no?"

Letting those words float in the air Maskerad turned back to the others of the table, her eyes less harsh and unreadable. Once again, a hint of amusement crossed what little of her face that could be seen. A deep throaty bemused chuckle could be heard at the same time, though it oddly dipped into a higher pitch for a moment.

"Well, I suppose it was worth an attempt. The skill required for one to create a set of arms that could match the requirements I have specified is not quite that common. Answering your question, Trevor," As Maskerad spoke, voice as dry and dull as usual, he grabbed the hand crossbow off the table and spun it around his finger once before holstering it in the back of his coat once more. "I have used longbows in the past. My accuracy with them are, sadly, not quite as to par as my accuracy with my own weapons. I also make use of a shortsword as well in the event of melee combat. At one point, a friend suggested that I take up the use of a curved longsword as well. I entertained her for a while but I ultimately proved to be unsuited for such a weapon."

At the mention of their friend Maskerad's voice notably became even less emotive than what it had been moments before and they lapsed into momentary silence, apparently lost in thought.

"And what of you two?" Maskerad asked after a second, voice back to it's emotionally neutral state as they gazed out at the world with dull eyes. "What other weapons do the two of you use, if anything else? Anything regional, for example? Thinking of it, I would love to hear of your histories."
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Re: The Everlasting Symphony: IC.

#24 Post by Hotep the psychic »

"oh i can answer weapons wise easily, historically you dont want to hear." Trevor then opened the cloak some to show more of his torso and then grabbed his saxe knife. He set it on the table, even in the firelight anyone could see the difference in make by the steel of the blade. After he grabbed the pistol next and set it next to the knife. "here you have a pistol made by my family and then the knife is the second most dangerous weapon in my arsenal. After these is my throwing knives and some other things i use" Trevor said
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Re: The Everlasting Symphony: IC.

#25 Post by Myperson54 »

Erik stood up and stretched, wiping the last of the sleeep from his eyes, and downed half his mead in one hearty swig before saying anything more. He gave a small, joking salute to Keetara, saying, <Ich werde ein Auge auf den kleinen Avean halten, aber sehen Sie Ihren Rücken. Es gibt andere, die nicht hier sind, wie sie scheinen.> He glanced over to where Kristoph and the colourful gambler were talking. Surely he's harmless, he thought, moving around the table. I have a different target in mind, however... He scanned the room until his eyes came to rest upon the northerner.

Erik pushed his way through a few of the bar's noisier inhabitants, and hissed in frustration when one of them spilled beer on his cloak. Baring his teeth, he attempted to wring out the alcohol. This was going to require proper cleaning, dammit! Humans can be so undignified sometimes...

On his next approach he wasn't nearly as physical. Instead, he projected himself a few paces in front of his real body, letting his mirage encourage movement to those in his way. There was no need for dodging and weaving (He would save that for a more appropriate time), but rather he took confident strides, reaching his destination within seconds.

The man at the bar was even more unusual than all the other humans around him; He was dressed in more or less normal clothes, although his hat was some... Big floppy thing. And his beard! Well, Erik supposed he'd never be able to grow facial hair, but that was besides the point. This man's beard was fuller than anyone else's in the room. He sniffed the air as he approached. Pine needles and unfinished steel. Interesting.

The projection of Erik fizzed out of existence as the real one approached the inn's bar. "Morning", he said in an upbeat tone. "It seems you and I, both fore-in, eh? I... know feeling, trust me." He snorted. "Welvo."
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Re: The Everlasting Symphony: IC.

#26 Post by triman95 »

Just as the barkeep have placed the mead he asked for Vladimir turned his head over at Erik. Being taken a bit surprise by the fact that someone wasn't afraid of him enough to avoid him was always new to him. To him this Basili either haven't heard about his people, had a lot of courage, or just wanted something from him. Either way he didn't really care just happy enough to have someone to talk to.

"I take it you must be a outsider like me?" Responding to how Erik made that last comment. Taking a quick drink from his mead and leaving a small smile as he set it down. "So tell me, what or who gives you the courage to come over here?" Scanning over him seeing what he may do while keeping his hand over his axe.

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Re: The Everlasting Symphony: IC.

#27 Post by Tyendinaga »

"Hrmmm" The engineer mumbled, a hand running through his red beard. Wll the while gears were turning inside his head. This Kid, this Rikklin definitely knew how to play the part. Whether by sheer skill or unnatural means the Avean had just about given these two folks a straight up financial beatdown. All the while he kept them happy. Before responding he looked back over his shoulder, finding that only one of the two Basili he was with was present, the other had evidently went off somewhere to do something.

"Well, My friend over there is interested in speaking to you. Why?" He shrugged a bit. "Not a damn clue."

"But...." He spoke with a pause, a smile coming about his face. "I wouldn't mind playing you in a game if that's what you want." He nodded, giving a simple motion with his real arm towards Rikklin himself. Of course though, the engineer himself wasn't necesarily aiming to win, at least not at the moment. Rather he was a bit more curious about the game itself, or what they would be playing. "So then, Name the game and the rules. And I can probably pull some playing bits out of thin air." He spoke, finishing with an honest smile and nod.

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the red soldier
Even my blood is socialist red.
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Re: The Everlasting Symphony: IC.

#28 Post by the red soldier »

Rikklin gave what seemed like a grin, or whatever the equivalent his beak could make. Only for a split second however as it turned into a warm smile and his eyes grew big like that of a kitten. "Oh! Thank you I love to play games with new friends" He said rather innocently and merrily.

Turning to the big man in furs, the man shrugged with a smile and handed over a pair of dices. 5 six sided dice made out of wood to be exact. "The game is easy! Each player roles the dices three times and takes the role with the highest score. The one that roled the most wins! If its a draw we start again. Traders luck the game is called, anyone can play!"

However, Rikklin grew wide eyed all of a sudden. "Almost forgot the most important part. Each player must bet something in the pot for it to be interesting!" Out of nowhere, Rikklin produced a silver trimmed chest, opening it with a strange combination of tugging, pulling and knocking, Rikklin pulled out a small rock of a red tint color. To any untrained eye it was a simple rock but anyone with a bit of knowledge could see the glint of pure crimson blood iron. Rare and prized more for fashion and jewelry then actual weapon making.

Now, eyeing the man Rikklin smiled childish grin. "Now your turn to bet something mister!" After a few seconds though, he mumbled under his breath, almost out of ear shot... almost. "I really like those goggles..."
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MrFlyingAmoeba
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Re: The Everlasting Symphony: IC.

#29 Post by MrFlyingAmoeba »

When she was continued to be called upon as a server, Jack had stumbled, feet losing their blistering rhythm to misstep thrice and halt. "Toss the part and it comes back to Jack?" She exclaimed, moving to sweep the platters of food and drink away from Goff once more. "Forever the servant, then!" A stein was set before the Florence Ranger, thin rivulets of mead running down the exterior from a rough placement. A stein of ale slid to a halt in front of the nobleman, condition likewise far less pristine than her usual. Jack sniffed, turning up her nose at Varil's table for a moment before slipping away to resume her flawless serving.

As she swung around to the other side of the inn to leave a mug of water on John's table, a small note stuck to the moisture of the mug, a venomous thought occurred unspoken and unexpressed. An encore becomes insult when the role's no fun and the players are done, even if the act was to play again. Instead, childish delight flickered across her features as she watched the flickering Basili friend of the spider's owner strike up a greeting with a large warrior. Jack wiggled her eyebrows at the lone man beside her to grab his attention once it was apparent that no more magic was forthcoming.

"I don't suppose you have anything so flashy tonight?" She asked John cheerily, running a hand through her hair. Jack leaned on the window sill next to him, gazing around the inn. "Luck, spiders, strange weapons, a bit of magic?"
Red Mage Statscoski wrote:That is not how we do things around here, buddy. First we have to argue incessantly over semantics.

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DarkTheImmortal
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Re: The Everlasting Symphony: IC.

#30 Post by DarkTheImmortal »

Avis nodded when Beck asked about weapons and background. She stared at the pistol Trevor placed on the table. So he uses those things she thought to herself. She didn't trust those types of weapons. She pulled her iron dagger out of the sheath on her belt and placed it on the table. "This is my only other weapon. I rarely use it in combat, but has saved my life when I did. As for my history..." She sighed. She didn't like telling the story, but it didn't need to be a secret. "I was abandoned in the middle of the forest when I was young. I don't even remember where I'm from or who my parents were. The only thing I do remember was my first name. I'm lucky I learned how to survive fast enough to actually survive. I became a mercenary at a young age; I can't remember the exact age, but I was still quite good for that age. I sort of "blended" into society shortly after, but I still spend most of my time in the forest." She paid no attention to the waitress as she brought Varil his ale.

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