Inn of the Wayward Soul - Pre-Game RP

 
Zynka

After downing a few gulps of ale Zynka takes a deep breath and turns around to find the mermaid still there and on top of that it looked as if two of the men were going to start a fight over her. With some relief she thought, Ah, so she is real, I ain't gone crazy already. The question of sanity answered to her satisfaction she ignored the next obvious one as to why the fish was out of water realizing that the line of thought might be too much for right now and turns her focus instead on the potential brawlers. Having missed most of what was said she didn't know how it started, but was curious to see how it ended. However, when the minotaur came out and dissuaded the two from engaging in a duel she is rather disappointed and snorts loudly as the men opt for wordplay and not something more violent.

With interest lost Zynka drains the rest of the mug and turns back to Isaiah, "I need a room and something to eat once I stow my gear, plus another one of these with the food," she waggles the empty mug for emphasis before continuing in a slightly more subdued voice, "Also, I want to wash the dust off from traveling. Do you have a tub or can you tell me where I can go for that?"

Fracko's face lights up brilliantly at the appearance of the nuts and popcorn. He appears to be completely oblivious to the interaction between the two men, the existence of the mermaid, or anything else other than a single nut that he is attempting, without success, to crack. He grows increasingly agitated and starts to mutter to himself as he tries to open the shell. When he looks about for something heavy to smack it with, he hears the half-orc female speak and looks her way. Immediately, his eyes widen, his mouth falls agape, and his dirt-smudged cheeks redden with a blush. She is the most beautiful female he has ever set eye on.

It is a long moment before he composes himself, regards his uncracked nut, and sadly reaches for some popcorn, only to find the bowl already emptied by the other customers at the bar.

"My Father is quite the warrior. A general." she said, emphasizing the present rather than past tense. Her father was a man unlike any other, and it prided her to no known ends to be his daughter. As the sword-saint approached her drinking companion, her eyes cooled, readying herself to summon a body guard. However, the presence of the minotaur quickly cooled the situation. The sword-saint made a comment to her and she gave a wry smile, "Courting rituals are so strange in your lands. In the sea, a larger male simply kills a smaller male that is in his way," she says with a shrug. Next they'd be doing a mating dance, though she imagined their's would involve swords.

Finishing off her drink, she sets it back down on the table and picks up her fork and knife again and returns to eating the delicious steak while she regarded the gnome. Now there was an interesting spectacle.

Tanvas was tensing his muscles and close to losing his temper over this man. The only thing keeping him satted was the knowledge that he still had some ale left to drink and it would have been a shame to have to leave without finishing it, but with so little left, the temptation was growing more appealing. His attacks turned from direct to indirect, as his attention went to Lam. He about lost it and attack the man when Lamere said something that took it all away and replaced it with something extremely funny to him. "Ah hahaha!" He laughed loudly, gulping down the his remaining drink from the flagon and slammed it down. "Sounds simply enough for me." His scowl had become a rivalling grin, menacing and brutal, staring challengingly at the swordsman. "But hey, we're friends here. I'll let you off easy." A grin still remained on his face but at least it wasn't filled with blood lust.

It occured to Tanvas that the situation went from asking about why a mermaid had taken to the land into what was now a display of male dominance before the same mermaid. It was crazy how the world worked like that. But now he was put in a less than pleasant mood. "So... how about you take those blades of yours," he nodded at the sheathed weapons at his hip, "And soak your head. You've keep me from enjoying of my drink long enough. Which reminds me." He lifted his flagon into the air and shout towards the innkeeper. "Hey , Keep. Mind filling it up." He brought the wooden mug down to rest on the table again ready to be filled.

"No can do, friend. You are easily the biggest, burliest swordsman in this whole tavern. Someone comes along looking for a sword, well..."

Damaris lifts his chin, still grinning. He crosses his arms, hands staying as far away from his katana as possible. He imagines the mermaiden and the half-orc at the bar would enjoy the violent spectacle, but there'd be hell--and gold--to pay for it.

"They're going to come to you with such an offer, and that I cannot take sitting down. Instead I offer you a proposal: You let me in on a 'quest' and all the treasure and rewards are yours. What do you say, friend? A free swordarm to watch your back."

Damaris extends a hand and adjusts his posture to a slight kneel, raising his eyebrows in genuine inquiry but never dropping his grin. Diplomacy, as they say back East, is just as cutting as a blade.

Now this was a surprise if he'd ever heard one. The swordsman was not longer annoying. In fact he was now talking... business. By Gorum, this world has gone mad. Tanvas started with a weak laugh, trying to wrap his head around what just happened. "Wait, wait wait... You want me to let you in on the job I'm going to get... For nothing?" He looked at the man even as his hand held in the air before him. "You've got quite the way of getting to know people, Swordsman. Was 'bout ready to throttle ya and I'd be barking mad to accept that offer," he paused looking to cross his arm in disapproval, but immediately let lose a hand that took hold and shook the others vigorously. "And I's be just that mad. You've got yourself a deal, mate." He stood up and continued to shake his hand, giving a swift pat on the arm. He let go of his hand and dropping back into his chair. "Grab a seat, friend."

While to most, this sudden change may have be odd, it was not so for Tanvas. Why live in the past? As warriors, death could be around the next corner and all that grudging will do you no good. Buck head, fight, blood each others faces and get over it. An rival and a friend were really the same thing far as he was concerned. Though he still had a smug of dislike for the swordsman, he wasn't going to let something so small get under his skin. Besides, if he does it again, now he'll be in an easier punching range. "So, Swordsman, what should we be calling you by? We could keep up this 'friend' gag but I'd like to know the name of a bladearm if I'm going to be working with him." Once again he was relaxed in his chair, still waiting on his ale and now waiting for a name to given his new companion.

Damaris backtracks to the bar to grab his flagon. He flashes a small wink at the half-orc before returning to TAN & LAM's BOOTH, taking a seat with a beaming smile.

"I am Damaris Pales. I am a ronin, a wandering sellsword from Everfold in the East. And--oh!"

He unties his katana and wakizashi pair and places them on the table.

"This is
Purity
Seijun and
Mercy
Jishin. These swords have belonged to me since I was just a boy, but I've only just earned them--and eager to test them in martial combat!"


He laughs heartily and sets his daisho onto his lap.

"Well, you both know my name now. I would know yours as well, seeing as we are friends."

Isaiah steps over to the half-orc. The bath is in the room second on the right past the bar. I can have my assistant begin filling it. You can be in room 3 up the stairs. If you wish to bunk with another, it can be arranged. The bath is 3 silver, the room is 1. Meals run from 6 coppers to 2 gold, depends on what you want. A tab for drinks may be created, but has an additional 3 copper charge. He fills up her mug with a smile, moves over to the gnome and lightly touches the nut. A small pop is heard and the shell dissolves, leaving the meat open to world. He then waves his hand over the bowl, which fills instantly. Finally, he brings around ales for any other patron requiring it. Anyone else need a place to stay? I have 8 rooms total, but many additional cots can be brought up.

"You named your swords? How... quaint," Lamére smirked as she slid another piece of the steak into her mouth, "I must admit, I do like that first name. Seijun. It has a nice ring to it. Anyway," she said, smiling, "I am Lamére Seapearl. You must tell me, what is a sellsword? Is it like a Sword-saint who has lost his soul?"

"One must always have friends on the battlefield, Lady Lamére."

The ronin returns her smile, happy to have interested company. A talkative tavern with space to sleep, a pocket with just enough coin to get a room... such a good town to happen upon.

"Aha, clever pun. In a way, yes. I serve no lord or land; my cause is my own. Unfortunately, such a venture requires... ah... financial backing. So I journey from village to town to castle and see what beasts need slaying, or what bandits need stopping. I guess the title should really be Rentsword. And you, as I overheard, are the daughter of a general. So then are you royalty?"





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