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Post by brownbear96 on Jun 7, 2014 22:18:56 GMT
"I've mixed poison that tasted better than this ale!" An ebony skinned human sat at the bar of the tavern, complaining of the taste of his ale to no one in particular, as the bartender who mixed it was currently out of earshot. "Literally, I've literally mixed a poison, tasted it, and the result was more pleasant than this piss in a mug!" Really, he wasn't even speaking all that loudly, he wasn't even drunk yet. He was just hoping his complaints would get lost in the rabble of the tavern, so he can vent. Being out of his element had left him a bit.. irritated. With all of the beastly people walking about, he felt uncomfortable talking to anyone! Mostly because anytime he tried to talk to a beast race, words like 'kitten', 'chicken', and 'lizard' would escape his lips. Nothing has come of it yet, though the looks he always gets is still irritating!
Thankfully, not many people, beast or otherwise, seem too inclined to fight him, and he knew why. The large burn scar on the left side of his face twisted his flesh and made him look tougher than he really was. The scar even extends to the edge of the left side of his mouth, resulting in a permanent scowl. It ran even further down his body, to his neck and left shoulder, he was just glad it didn't bore all the way through his skin when he got it. Whatever, there wasn't any reason to think about it then, so he kept drinking his ale, and wasn't exaggerating when he said he'd drank poisons that were tastier. Truthfully, he hasn't drank much in his life, so this would probably be his only mug. Anymore, and his offensive names for the 'beasties'(As he referred to them when they were out of earshot) would no doubt start flowing out beyond his control.
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Post by BrotherDeath on Jun 7, 2014 22:28:34 GMT
The Undead LaRou grunted dismissively; between the cackling skeleton behind him, the moaning human whelp further along the bar, and the orcs in complete uproar over a game of cards somewhere else in the tavern, he realized he wouldn't find any answers among them. That left the woman; what had she asked him? Was he up to anything?
He finally sat up, bones and armour creaking as they were unsettled from their resting position. "I am uncertain... What..." He falls silent for a time, not sure how to phrase his thoughts. Playing for time, he changed the topic. "Where is it you are travelling?"
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Post by anoroath on Jun 7, 2014 22:35:41 GMT
The female smiles at the Undead, happy to have recieved a reply. "As it so happens, I have no clear destination. Not besides home, at some point in the future. The purpose of my journey is to experience the world. Nothing more, nothing less." She grunts displeased at the loud Orcs. It would appear someone was just caught cheating... A sigh escapes her lips as the LaRou turns to face the Undead.
"What a loud bunch. What do you call a bunch plus one?" She nods towards the Human sitting alone at the bar, complaining.
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Post by BrotherDeath on Jun 7, 2014 22:44:43 GMT
The Undead tilts his head curiously, a suspicion of what the LaRou woman was suggesting fluttering uncertainly in his mind.
"I don't believe I would go unnoticed in interfering with either party; besides, I don't see any sense in doing so. There is nothing to be gained."
Trying to pull the conversation away from anything that would get him thrown out this early, the Undead LaRou casts about for something even remotely interesting to say, and winds up with
"How do you mean 'experience the world'? It's not a... passtime that I've encountered before."
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Post by Pyromaniac on Jun 7, 2014 23:02:21 GMT
"I'm telling you I got five aces!" The orc shouted flipping over the table. A quick hop backwards was all that saved Lylandra's toes from an unfortunates meeting with the heavy table as it crashed to the ground, sending coins and precious stones flying across the tavern.
"An I'm telling you that there's only four aces in the deck!" She added following it up with several insults regarding the orc's intelligence and parentage in her native tongue.
"Well maybe a second one got mixed in." The orc suggested.
"Or maybe yous cheatin'!" Another orc, missing most his teeth, shouted.
"Ha! Like I would need to cheat to beat the likes of..." He was silenced when the elven woman abruptly lifted up his shirt resulting in a cascade of cards falling out from underneath.
"I... can explain..."
The rest of the orcs fell upon him in a flurry of fists and shouted curses. Lylandra gathered up her money, pocketing a few extra pieces she figured the orcs wouldn't notice had gone missing, and made her way over to the bar with a sigh.
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Post by anoroath on Jun 7, 2014 23:06:41 GMT
"Well, my instructor thought it good I learn a bit about the outside world, not to mention the other races in this world. I come from a place much father northwest than here, where only a few races reside, but I do not want to bother you with all the details." She smiles again, turning back around to face the bar. She orders a dish containing various types of meat. "Not to mention, try the food of the different races. Never had this kind of meat before."
She glances at what might appear to be a real brawl brewing, letting out a sigh.
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Post by BrotherDeath on Jun 7, 2014 23:13:40 GMT
The Undead LaRou ignores the brawl; they happened seemingly twice a night here, he was well used to them by now. He did, however, glance thoughtfully at the plate of meat; but, he knew that he couldn't eat it. Undeath had its uses, but it denied him such things as food and drink.
"Sadly, I cannot. Perhaps it would be good to taste meat again, but it cannot happen..."
Turning to look directly at the LaRou woman, he finally asked her "Why do you exist?"
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Post by anoroath on Jun 7, 2014 23:26:16 GMT
The female seems taken aback by the question, unsure of how to answer.
"Let me put my answer this way, why do you need a reason? Life, or in your case, undeath is what you make it. If it has a meaning or a purpose at all, that meaning or purpose, is you."
She turns her attention to her food, which has now arrived. She starts eating away, quickly consuming it.
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Post by BrotherDeath on Jun 7, 2014 23:38:08 GMT
The Undead LaRou watches the woman eat for a few moments before turning away from her, feeling annoyed at the sight of her eating for some reason. Assuming that he had been dismissed by the LaRou woman, he resumes his previous stance, lowering his head towards the bar and listening to the other conversations around him.
He wasn't entirely sure what the LaRou woman was talking about; 'That meaning or purpose is you'? What in the Hells was that supposed to mean? Settling down, he prepared himself for another night of waiting for even a hint of an answer.
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Post by yourcomputer on Jun 7, 2014 23:38:35 GMT
Draykur sees the impending brawl and pull out one of his allready loaded hand cannons and nearly yells
"First one of ye to throw a punch'll get shot, so y'all better sit down!"
he pick up the sack in one hand with the gun near his side.
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Post by DerpWolf on Jun 7, 2014 23:46:18 GMT
Tehrane Whitewhisker polished her blade, gently buffing off dirt and blood. She lovingly cared for the blade, one of the few things she still owned from before. Carefully re-sheathing the blade, the Lunarin gazed around the town. Trading towns always provided opportunity. It was easy enough to sign on with a caravan one-way, head around to different towns. Plus, they always seemed to thrive. Not like the little out-lying towns in the Goldeneye Queendom, struggling to get by with the toll of the war. Shaking her head to clear away the cobweb-thoughts of home, the Lunarin looked through her coinpurse, trying to determine how much money she had to spend here. Not too much, but enough. Most of the guard contracts started to run dry recently. Hopefully she could catch a caravan job that didn't pay dirt-poor this time.
Pulling a few coins out, she ran them through her paw-like hands. Just enough for some warm meat and a good glass of wine. Luxuries she rarely partook in, but enjoyed immensely. Might as well splurge a little. When she opened the door to the round, cornerless tavern, the sight of a brewing brawl mildly surprised her. She caught sight of an elf, and immediately decided to stay completely clear of it. Damn elves. Scanning around for an empty seat, she settled for one next to a human with darker skin and a nasty burn. She'd seen similar burns on other battlemages who couldn't control fire well, or when one battlemage couldn't protect themselves in sparring matches. It didn't particularly bother her, but she did want t know the story behind it. Ordering something from the barmaid who passed by, she fixed the human with her single eye. She blinked, slowly, as cats are wont to do.
"Hello."
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Post by brownbear96 on Jun 8, 2014 0:01:43 GMT
(For the record, imagine Ichabod with a Londoner's accent.)
Ichabod having finished his mug of piss-ale, was about to wash his mouth out with a vial of the aforementioned poison. The vial was almost to his lips when he was greeted by one of those cat-things. Lunari they were called? He wasn't sure that was correct, but he thought it was close. He gave an awkward pause before returning a unenthused "Hello yourself". It was rare for people to approach him with his... disfigurement, but he could see why she didn't hesitate, considering one of her large eyes were missing. He looked the stranger up and down, seeing that she was an odd mix of feline and... feminine traits. Her weapon didn't go unnoticed, and he was doubly sure not to make any racial comments.
His eyes eventually landed on her fluffy tail, his eyes followed it's back and forth movements, and they remained doing so even when he continued speaking. "Anyway I can help you, fluffy one?" Shit! That one just slipped out! Ah, well. It's not like that one was racially specific, necessarily. The wolf morphs could probably be fluffy too. Even so, he took his eyes off her tail, and provided eye contact when 'fluffy' left his mouth.
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Post by DerpWolf on Jun 8, 2014 0:10:54 GMT
"Fluffy?" Her eye widened a little, the pupil contracting even in the dim light. She did have to admit that her tail was rather soft and fluffy. Deciding to forgive him this time. The barmaid delivered her rare (nearly raw) meat and her glass or red wine. Taking a sip of the alocholic beverage, she followed it up with a bite-sized piece of beef. Taking a moment to fiddle with her eyepatch and adjust its strap so it wasn't digging into the skin next to her ear, she tilted her head. "Not really. I've been looking for a caravan job or something. A guard job. You?"
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Post by brownbear96 on Jun 8, 2014 0:30:17 GMT
It was easy to notice the look in her eye, considering it's size, and the sight of anger would be a nice reminder for Ichabod. "Me? I had a day full of herb picking and crushing said herbs into potions, and selling said potions to any bloke with an embarrassing itch. A full day for me." He brought back the vial to his lips and took a sip of the poison, swishing it around in his mouth before spitting into his empty mug. "Word of advice, don't buy the ale. Not just because it tastes like piss, you also don't want to end up with that mug." He said, pointing to his mug being carried off by the bartender, which now had a bit of poison in it.
"My name is Ichabod by the way, Ichabod Draken. I'm an alchemist." Ichabod held out his hand to the cat lady, his eyes still glanced at all of her features, since Ichabod was unused to seeing these cat people, even less so having a conversation with one. He also offered a half smile, the left side of his mouth unable to move from it's grimace.
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Post by Pyromaniac on Jun 8, 2014 1:40:44 GMT
Lylandra waited patiently by the bar while one of then the bar maids ran to the kitchen to bring h taer the food she had ordered. It didn't take long, although that was to be expected given she could afford little more than scraps and uneaten left overs. The card game hadn't exactly been high stakes... which made her wonder why all the orcs fought so hard about it.
Maybe it was just an honor thing.
She glanced around, looking for an empty seat. There were a few at the bar... next to an undead. Pass.
And a table recently vacated by another undead while he attempted to break up the orc's brawl. She figured she'd give that one a pass too.
Every other table was occupied by large groups... save one near bar. A disfigured human, and a lunarin missing an eye. She smirked and headed over sitting down at the table.
"A disfigured human and a one-eyed lunarin. Might as well add a miscolored elf to the mix am I right?" She joked as she picked idly at the gruel in front of her. Hardly appetizing, but she was ravenous.
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