|
|
Post by ProfGremlin on Jun 12, 2012 8:59:00 GMT -5
Under a side window outside the Dragon's Eye...“Here we are,” the dog pants through the slobber; “I’ve done my part. Over to you!” Flick releases his hold on the dogs ruff and slowly sits up to take in their surroundings. The courtyard is much as he had observed a few moments ago, though seen from the opposite perspective. "Keep a watch for anyone paying us to much attention." he whispers. Simply seeing people go about their business, Flick quickly zips up to the window ledge, hugging the rough wood of the side to remain unseen. Poking his head around the corner the little fairy peers within looking for the sausage his new companion is so enamored of. 
|
WhisperFlick
[Fairy Wizard Lvl: 1 Att: 2d+11 / +23 Def: 6 ST: 3 IQ: 7 LK: 17 CN: 3 DX: 24 CH: 30/32]
|
|
|
|
|
Post by doctorx on Jun 12, 2012 14:46:51 GMT -5
Flick peers cautiously round the edge of the window. He is looking into a medium-sized kitchen filled to overflowing with wooden table tops laden with chopped or soon-to-be chopped vegetables, iron pots of stew and porridge bubbling lazily on the expansive hearth and spits sizzling and dripping fat onto glowing cooking fires. A number of human (and a couple of hobbit) women and children are hard at work cooking, washing, scraping and chopping as they labour to provide breakfast for the inn’s growing morning custom.
In an iron skillet set above a stone oven, a half-a-dozen sausages sizzle enticingly, stewing in their own juices. A most delicious smell of frying herb-infused pork drifts under Flick’s nose teasingly.
(Of course, Flick doesn’t need to sneak in through the window like a thief in the night. He is perfectly entitled to walk (or at least fly) in through the front door. Fairy hunts have been illegal in Empire-held Faerie for some twenty years now.
The question is; do the locals know that? And, more to the point; do they care?)
|
|
|
|
Post by doctorx on Jun 12, 2012 16:32:35 GMT -5
Finnegan hands the waitress the fifteen silver pieces, which she accepts with a smile and a curtsey; (“Thank you, my master!”)
He then follows Master Ho and Banoc as they head for the door through which de Morsac (with a frantically-protesting Ruby tugging possessively at his pantaloons) is exiting...
(Finnegan has 7 gold pieces and 5 silver pieces left, but has gained Nebless’ 5 copper if he wants it).
(Master Ho has 4 gold pieces and 9 silver pieces remaining).
(I'm saying the drinking and eating's taken about 20 minutes, so Ruby's LUCK is now up to 11).
|
|
kwll
3rd Level Troll
Posts: 236
|
Post by kwll on Jun 13, 2012 4:12:09 GMT -5
Master Ho has not been in a better mood in a long while. He follows in the steps of his new companion, an undiscernible satisfied smile on his lips.
He suddenly stops, being the target of a sudden, spiritual intuition that the group his is now being a part of is maybe not entirely complete. "Hold on a second. Maybe we should wait around here a couple more minutes."
|
|
|
|
Post by grrraall on Jun 13, 2012 12:33:09 GMT -5
The impetuous de Morsac rolls his eyes, but stops, somehow trusting Master Ho's insights.
|
|
|
|
Post by ProfGremlin on Jun 13, 2012 21:13:23 GMT -5
The Dragon's Eye...From his vantage point on the window sill, Flick spies the skillet of sizzling sausage and realizes there's no way he would be able to move them with any degree of safety - or surety for that matter. For one, they're just too large to handle more than one at a time and two, they're laying in a sizzling hot skillet! The little wizard hadn't wanted to do it but he'll have to address one of the staff. Slipping down off the window in a muted buzz of wings Flick speaks to his canine companion, "My first idea isn't going to work without all sorts of screaming and pain so I'm going to try something else. Stay here and I'll be back just as soon as I can." With that Flick zips of around the corner and towards the main entrance. The little wizard hesitates briefly at the open doorway and then takes the plunge passing through at roughly head height to a human. Flick passes two humans, one a warrior at first glance and the other a bald man with a staff. The fairy glances around the room and spots a woman carrying a tray of food and drink. Ah, maybe she can be of some assistance...Flick keeps an eye on the room as well as he can because he certainly doesn't want anyone plucking his wings! The little wizard is aware he's putting a great deal of faith in the Empire-Faerie peace accords at the moment and he's not entirely sanguine about the situation. Fact is he needs an ally and his would be companion's price is a plate of sausages, so, here he is braving a human run tavern. Flick slowly approaches the woman with the tray, the sound of his wings muted in the pipe weed scented air. Hovering in front of the woman at eye level he asks, "Excuse me, miss, my friend has a craving for a platter of sausages and I've notice you have a pan of them frying in the kitchen. Pray tell, how much for a plate of them?" Flick tensely awaits the woman's answer, ready to streak out of reach the moment someone tries to grab him.
|
WhisperFlick
[Fairy Wizard Lvl: 1 Att: 2d+11 / +23 Def: 6 ST: 3 IQ: 7 LK: 17 CN: 3 DX: 24 CH: 30/32]
|
|
|
kwll
3rd Level Troll
Posts: 236
|
Post by kwll on Jun 14, 2012 3:35:02 GMT -5
Master Ho's mood becomes even better when he spots the little fairy passing through him and his companions. Both eyebrows are raised when he hears his request to the waitress. This could only be what the spirits were whispering at his mind, no doubt about it.
Standing still, he watches the scene unfold for a little while, attracting the attention of his mates to it.
|
|
|
|
Post by doctorx on Jun 14, 2012 6:52:40 GMT -5
The blonde waitress starts and lets forth an exclamation, nearly dropping her tray, her brown eyes wide with surprise.
Then slowly, the surprise begins to fade... to be replaced by a wide smile.
"Why, good morning to you, little master! And welcome to the Dragon's Eye! Always happy to cater to the fair folk in this establishment, we are!"
The giant man sat at the table is staring at Flick open-mouthed, as if watching a particularly striking butterfly. Even the barman stops serving for the moment to stare at his new customer with a more-than-usual degree of interest.
"Sausages, you say?" the girl continues; "A plate of those will set you back a mere three silvers. I'll fetch them directly. Anything to drink? And where will you and your friend be sitting?"
|
|
|
|
Post by doctorx on Jun 14, 2012 15:04:09 GMT -5
THE SILVER MERMAID.[/b][/u]
Meanwhile, Watchman Nebless is availing himself of the ‘hospitality’ to be had at the Silver Mermaid...
The inn is a small, unassuming affair a little way to the West along the harbour front from the fish market, marked by the sign of a well-proportioned mermaid, complete with comb and glass, her flowing tresses of a striking silver hue. A number of fishing nets are spread out outside along the harbour wall, drying off in the morning sun.
Inside, the Mermaid is a small, one-room affair of chipped wood, battered benches and empty grog barrels that now serve as tables standing atop stone flags and sawdust, but it is reasonably clean, with only the merest hint of wharf rats scurrying about in the shadowy corners, and these are swift to vanish when any of the inn’s (seemingly numerous) cats put in an appearance. This is the domain of the thin and austere Widow Cora, referred to simply as ‘The Widow’ more often than not - thrice-married to seamen, thrice left waiting on the shore when the husbands went down to storms or worse. She wears black, runs the Mermaid with an iron hand and keeps her own company and counsel.
The inn’s patrons - fisher-folk from the market and sailors from the big ships enjoying the temptations of dry land for the most part - watch Nebless enter with sullen eyes and sour faces. The Watch is seemingly as popular here as it is elsewhere in Kendor. One gaunt, white-haired old man, sitting alone at a solitary table in the shadow of the rickety-looking staircase leading up to the inn’s guestrooms, draws back into the shadows the stairs offer, shaking his head and mumbling to himself.
Nebless strides across to the cramped but well-stocked bar carved like a ship’s figurehead in the style of the silver-haired mermaid on the inn’s sign, flashes the Widow his best smile and enquires as to the chance of a mug of ale to help him on his ‘rounds...’
(L1LKSR. Die roll: 4+5+ his knack for obtaining a free pint = 26. Success! A.P gained: 9).
The Widow gives him a stony look (although in truth that tends to be all she gives anyone) and plants a beer-filled tankard in front of Nebless before departing through a door behind the bar from which the intriguing scent of a fish stew or similar is emanating.
Nebless leans himself against the carved silver-haired siren, takes a swig of his ale and settles back to endure the rigours of his ‘watch’...
|
|
hobbob
Lurker under the Bridge
Finnegan Cole
Posts: 1
|
Post by hobbob on Jun 14, 2012 20:47:43 GMT -5
When the old man said to wait, Finnegan was wary. He was almost scared of the old man's intentions, that is, until the fairy showed up. Finnegan inwardly smiled."Who are we waiting for?" he asks the wizard. Attachments:
|
|
kwll
3rd Level Troll
Posts: 236
|
Post by kwll on Jun 15, 2012 1:05:39 GMT -5
"Open your eyes, master Finnegan, open your eyes." whispers Master Ho back to the young hobbit.
|
|
|
|
Post by ProfGremlin on Jun 15, 2012 13:15:30 GMT -5
Inside the tap room of the Dragon's Eye..."Sausages, you say?" the girl continues; "A plate of those will set you back a mere three silvers. I'll fetch them directly. Anything to drink? And where will you and your friend be sitting?" A sizable amount of tension slips from Flick's shoulders and he briefly buoy's up in front of the blonde waitress. His demeanor relaxes more as he realizes her enthusiasm is genuine and the hobbits he had noted in the kitchen were there by choice not as slaves. His gaze slides across the room and notes the l a r g e man Is he trollkin...? with the club and rather stunned expression By Titania...! I could bathe in that mug with room for company...! and the barkeep with the raised eyebrows absently wiping a mug dry. Into the diminished hubbub his presence has caused the little wizard answers, "A thimbleful of honey mead, a slice of bread and cheese would be wonderful as I've not yet had opportunity to break my fast." More like my teeth on those trail rations... he thinks. "As for my companion, he is of the four footed variety and rather shy about entering your fine establishment. Perhaps there's an empty barrel outside we could use for a table?"
|
WhisperFlick
[Fairy Wizard Lvl: 1 Att: 2d+11 / +23 Def: 6 ST: 3 IQ: 7 LK: 17 CN: 3 DX: 24 CH: 30/32]
|
|
|
|
|
Post by doctorx on Jun 15, 2012 16:24:39 GMT -5
“Mead and cheese for an extra two silvers!” the girl says, still smiling; “I’ll see to it right away!”
She disappears into the inn’s kitchen to return momentarily, carrying a tray bearing mead, bread, cheese and a platter of still-sizzling sausages. The rumble in Flick’s stomach is building towards thunderstorm intensity.
The girl follows Flick out into the sunny courtyard where there are indeed a number of empty barrels that would serve very well as impromptu dining tables. The dog trots up, all twitchy nose, eager eyes and waggy tail. At Flick’s instruction, the girl sets the sausages down on the ground and places the rest of the miniature banquet atop the nearest of the barrels.
“Enjoy, my masters,” she says with a smile and a curtsey and a pat on the dog’s head, before disappearing back inside.
Flick sets to with gusto, finding both food and drink to be of excellent quality, far higher than he expected to find in the dominion of Men. The slobbering sounds coming from down below indicate his canine companion is similarly impressed. The sun shines in the blue sky, the human world passes by leaving him undisturbed, and Flick is soon of the opinion that perhaps this adventure need not be quite as dark and desperate as he first thought.
Until he notices the change. The dog has stopped eating. The sounds of contented scoffing have been replaced by a low, deep-throated growl.
Flick looks up. His companion is backing away from its half-eaten meal, hackles up and tail between its legs, looking fixedly towards the entrance to the courtyard.
Flick follows its gaze...
...and sees a band of ragged-looking men standing at the inn’s gate, looking at him with hungry, unfriendly eyes.
There are five of them in all – a fat, wall-eyed bald man perspiring under the weight of the leather cuirass strapped across his ample belly and the round wooden shield slung across his back, one pudgy hand resting on the handle of the nasty-looking studded cudgel shoved into his belt. He is flanked by a rangy, mean-eyed fellow whose greying hair and beard remind Flick more of a wolf’s pelt than anything else. He leans on a long-shafted, sharp-pointed spear, a round buckler in his other hand, a plain round helm jammed on his shaggy head. On the fat man’s other side stands a short, tanned fellow with a grin like a rat, a short curved blade and a vicious-looking punch dagger within easy reach of his gauntleted hands. A greying, middle-aged vagabond is easing a short sword out of its worn and battered sheath, and a tall, thin scarecrow of a man half-hidden in a tattered cloak loiters at the rear.
Tugging at the fat man’s elbow is a – is it? Goddess, yes! – it’s one of those wretched urchins that tried to snatch Flick out of the air few minutes earlier! The fat man grunts and pours a scattering of copper coins into the child’s outstretched hand, and it promptly scampers away towards the main street.
The fat man mops his perspiring bald dome with a grubby handkerchief, spits, and turns his attention to Flick.
“’Ello, pixie” says he; “Ain’t you a long way from ‘ome...”
|
|
danhem
5th Level Troll
Posts: 731
|
Post by danhem on Jun 15, 2012 18:03:48 GMT -5
Banoc watches in amazement as the waitress takes a large platter of food outside for the fairy and, of all things, a dog. "Odd place," he says to himself. As he waits for his companions to be ready to depart, however, he spots a company of unsavory men make their way into the courtyard of the Eye following a street urchin. They approach the fairy with clearly violent intent. "That is less odd. Let's go," he says to the others. Banoc draws his short sword and bank and moves up beside the barrel at which the fairy and his canine companion are dining. "Morning," he says loudly. "Something we can help you with? You interrupted our friends breakfast."OOC: Edited to account for map.  | Banoc
[Human Rogue Lvl: 1 Att: 3D / 5D+3 Def: 9 / 6 ST: 12 IQ: 12 LK: 12 CN: 6 DX: 10 CH: 9 ADDS: +0]
|
|
|
devadasi
5th Level Troll
maiden voyager
Posts: 602
|
Post by devadasi on Jun 15, 2012 18:30:27 GMT -5
Ruby knows where this is headed. There's about to be a ruckus. She slowly releases her grip on the red pants and looks up at the human lucky enough to own them.
"(sigh) Try not to put any holes in the fabric,okay?"
|
|
