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Elvenoff1
Guest
This is a sword and sorcery adventure set in the Flanaess of Oerik. Time Period 591CY Six years after the Greyhawk wars. This is a non-stat, no character sheet role-play. It’s all for character interactions within each other and NPC’s.
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It was a relatively silent night in the tavern even with everyone talking the loud bursts of thunder drowned them out almost to the point that to speak to someone clearly you had to at least be at their table. Outside the thunderstorm that had been raging for over two days now still carried one strong with no signs of letting up. Whispers went around that the storm was not natural and that an evil presence had led it towards the town. Outside the dirt and gravel streets were flooded and those families unfortunate enough to not have elevated housing found the water flowing in. Travel /o n the roads had all but been stopped, only seeing the occasional mad man daring to take on the storm o get to wherever he was going. None of the men had come back and it was whispered that the storm itself swallowed them whole, while others just thought that maybe they actually made it to their destination and decided not to come back to the town, and its freakish weather.
As sheets of rain pounded the town people without elevated housing sought shelter in the Dragon Tavern, the monumental tavern the made the town famous for the amount of adventures from all three kingdom that came to rest there for awhile. The town was one of the few places in the world where any violence against one just because they were from another nation was not aloud. While in the streets fights would on occasion break out inside the tavern daring to start a fight meant not only dealing with the person you began the fight with but all the patrons as well. Not to mention that if someone started a fight the town guards would drag the person away and toss him in the jail, and when they got out it was rare to see them ever start a problem again. It was said that those tossed in jail for crimes against another person because of his nationality was punishable by slow and brutal torture until the man beg for his life and swore never to cause another problem again; of course, that is only a rumor and like most rumors, no one besides the high ranking guards know what really happened that night and they aren’t telling a soul.
Sitting in the tavern alone and away from everyone else a hooded figure dressed in full black kept his head down. In front of him sat a tea cup filled with his own special brew, the steam still rising from it. Drawing his right hand from his sleeve the figure picked the cup up by the handle in his cold clammy hand and lifted it to his face. Lifting his head up only enough to drink he took a few small sips than placed the cup back down. Unlike most patrons in the tavern, he was lucky that he was one of the few that made it to town before it started raining two days ago. Renting out a room he planned on staying in town until the storm passed so he could begin he journey back to the Deadlands.
Walking towards him a young female barmaid whom all the men in the tavern seemed to stare at gave him a smile while stopping in front of his table. “Is there anything else you need sir?”
Looking up from his hood he revealed his face to be that of an old man who seemed to look older than any natural human should be aloud to live too. “Why yes darling, my stomach seems to be getting a wee bit hungry. It’s not too much to ask for a half order of steamed potatoes and a half portion of a half portion of salted pork is it?” Giving the barmaid a wide smile he revealed that several of his teeth had long since fallen out.
“No sir that is nowhere too much to ask. I’m sure the cook would be more than willing to only serve you a fourth of a portion and a half order of steamed potatoes. Would you like me to bring you more hot water as to make yourself more tea while I’m at it?” Compassion rang in her voice as she spoke; a genuine caring tone came with every word she spoke.
“That sounds perfect. Thank you darling, and please tell the cook that I’m sorry if I have caused any inconvenience it’s just at my old age I can’t eat like I use to.” Giving the barmaid one final smile the old man reached into his sleeve and pulled out a few coins and tossed them the barmaids way.
“It’s no problem at all sir, but I will make sure to pass your message to the cook anyways.” Taking the few coins tossed before her she could see that he had over paid but he had been doing it all night and the first time she questioned it he told her it was her tip.
Waiting patiently it was only a few minutes before the barmaid returned to his table with his order of pork and potatoes and which another tea pot of boiling hot waters. Keeping his head down he reached out with his skeletal hands and pulled his food closer. Picking up a small potato and bringing it to his mouth he took a bite into it and savored it taste, it wasn’t over flavored but it wasn’t under flavored either and it was just soft enough that he didn’t have to use a lot of extra effort to chew it. With a hidden smile on his face he slipped the second piece of the potato into his mouth and ate it silently.
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It was a relatively silent night in the tavern even with everyone talking the loud bursts of thunder drowned them out almost to the point that to speak to someone clearly you had to at least be at their table. Outside the thunderstorm that had been raging for over two days now still carried one strong with no signs of letting up. Whispers went around that the storm was not natural and that an evil presence had led it towards the town. Outside the dirt and gravel streets were flooded and those families unfortunate enough to not have elevated housing found the water flowing in. Travel /o n the roads had all but been stopped, only seeing the occasional mad man daring to take on the storm o get to wherever he was going. None of the men had come back and it was whispered that the storm itself swallowed them whole, while others just thought that maybe they actually made it to their destination and decided not to come back to the town, and its freakish weather.
As sheets of rain pounded the town people without elevated housing sought shelter in the Dragon Tavern, the monumental tavern the made the town famous for the amount of adventures from all three kingdom that came to rest there for awhile. The town was one of the few places in the world where any violence against one just because they were from another nation was not aloud. While in the streets fights would on occasion break out inside the tavern daring to start a fight meant not only dealing with the person you began the fight with but all the patrons as well. Not to mention that if someone started a fight the town guards would drag the person away and toss him in the jail, and when they got out it was rare to see them ever start a problem again. It was said that those tossed in jail for crimes against another person because of his nationality was punishable by slow and brutal torture until the man beg for his life and swore never to cause another problem again; of course, that is only a rumor and like most rumors, no one besides the high ranking guards know what really happened that night and they aren’t telling a soul.
Sitting in the tavern alone and away from everyone else a hooded figure dressed in full black kept his head down. In front of him sat a tea cup filled with his own special brew, the steam still rising from it. Drawing his right hand from his sleeve the figure picked the cup up by the handle in his cold clammy hand and lifted it to his face. Lifting his head up only enough to drink he took a few small sips than placed the cup back down. Unlike most patrons in the tavern, he was lucky that he was one of the few that made it to town before it started raining two days ago. Renting out a room he planned on staying in town until the storm passed so he could begin he journey back to the Deadlands.
Walking towards him a young female barmaid whom all the men in the tavern seemed to stare at gave him a smile while stopping in front of his table. “Is there anything else you need sir?”
Looking up from his hood he revealed his face to be that of an old man who seemed to look older than any natural human should be aloud to live too. “Why yes darling, my stomach seems to be getting a wee bit hungry. It’s not too much to ask for a half order of steamed potatoes and a half portion of a half portion of salted pork is it?” Giving the barmaid a wide smile he revealed that several of his teeth had long since fallen out.
“No sir that is nowhere too much to ask. I’m sure the cook would be more than willing to only serve you a fourth of a portion and a half order of steamed potatoes. Would you like me to bring you more hot water as to make yourself more tea while I’m at it?” Compassion rang in her voice as she spoke; a genuine caring tone came with every word she spoke.
“That sounds perfect. Thank you darling, and please tell the cook that I’m sorry if I have caused any inconvenience it’s just at my old age I can’t eat like I use to.” Giving the barmaid one final smile the old man reached into his sleeve and pulled out a few coins and tossed them the barmaids way.
“It’s no problem at all sir, but I will make sure to pass your message to the cook anyways.” Taking the few coins tossed before her she could see that he had over paid but he had been doing it all night and the first time she questioned it he told her it was her tip.
Waiting patiently it was only a few minutes before the barmaid returned to his table with his order of pork and potatoes and which another tea pot of boiling hot waters. Keeping his head down he reached out with his skeletal hands and pulled his food closer. Picking up a small potato and bringing it to his mouth he took a bite into it and savored it taste, it wasn’t over flavored but it wasn’t under flavored either and it was just soft enough that he didn’t have to use a lot of extra effort to chew it. With a hidden smile on his face he slipped the second piece of the potato into his mouth and ate it silently.