The Old Troll under the Bridge (Fryday 30th, afternoon)

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The Old Troll under the Bridge (Fryday 30th, afternoon)

Post by Sosa on Fri Nov 25, 2016 4:45 pm

It is that time of the day when costumers begin to trickle into the inn: Merchants have finished their business, families have done their shopping, shifts end (unless you are one of the whores of the inn, in which case your shift just begins) and shops close.

The large taproom is filled with tables, the fire is burning and the apron of the cook is still (relatively clean). The atmosphere is friendly, people greeting friends, having drinks and ordering food. Waitresses run around to take orders and hand out drinks. If you look, there are still a few empty tables, or empty chairs.


Sosa occupies a small tabel near the fire, a goblet of white wine on it. Her face emotionless, her booted feet under the table as she leans back and studies the crowd, looking for...
I have no idea what is so special about this place. Looks like any other bar, any other town. She sighs Oh, well, at least the wine is decent, and being away from the Citadel and it's Yuletide parties is a bonus

She waves to a passing waitress and orders a light meal, then sits back, and continues to watch the crowd. Waiting for something, anything, to happen.
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Re: The Old Troll under the Bridge (Fryday 30th, afternoon)

Post by Verhaal on Fri Nov 25, 2016 5:34 pm

One of the near table sat a man in his early thirties wearing a fashionable winter clothes current in major cities such as the Citadel or King's Court. He has a light brown complexion normally found in World's Mouth with dark hair pulled back behind him in a ponytail. He has a boyish, angular face with a tuft of a well-maintained goatee on his chin while his brown eyes had this far away, discontented look, as if the town was way too provincial for him. Rested near his chair was an elegant looking straight cane and on the table were the remnants of a light meal and a small paper with a finished charcoaled sketch of something undefined yet from a distant view of someone looking at it.

If upon close inspection, the sketch was a charcoaled drawing of an attire designed as a human-sized fox-skin and upon further examination, it was a cunning combination of fabrics, creating an illusion of swiftness in an outfit that strangely enough, might not be out of place at an important dinner or a great ball.

The man was looking at it disgustedly with a measure of resigned frustration as if it was an affront to his dignity.

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Re: The Old Troll under the Bridge (Fryday 30th, afternoon)

Post by Maeve on Fri Nov 25, 2016 10:57 pm

Port's Town is not very large, and so supports only one decent Inn. It is a simple building of wood and stone, painted a stark white, made friendly by green vines that grow over its exterior.

Inside there is nearly always laughter and music, and a good amount to eat and drink. Bards and rogues of all manner frequent the place, but it is equally welcome to merchants and farmers alike. A large wooden bar, with the sturdy owner, a dwarf by the name of Nashrim, or "Nash" for short,  at the tap, though he has several comely wenches to attend his costumers.

Nash's claim to fame is a story about how he once killed a troll in his youth, winning the hand of a fair maiden who has since moved on to her heavenly reward. If enticed by enough dark beer Nash will gladly share the story once again
.

The old dwarf Nash was polishing the bar and watching the door conspiciously, looking up innocently now and again, before devoting his time once again in getting his establishment spotless, a slight tension to his shoulders.

Meanwhile comely wenches served Sosa and gave her a saucy wink. All costumers were treated equally with hospitality, the free market reigned supreme in Shorewich. Or perhaps it was the under current of Pan's presence at the Isle. As a high level priest the paladin could sense the strands of power that faith held on this area. Green and strong, but a soft throbbing darkness underneath, just enough to be disturbing. Perhaps not in this vicinity, but present nonetheless, just beyond Sosa's hearing. Dum Dum Dum.

Meanwhile, Byrome, for it was he, sat back, staring frustratedly at his latest work. The wenches stayed clear of him, afraid he would lash out with curses or worse. Some costumers were violent and it always paid to be careful.

The door opened, and laughter followed before the new guests became visible. Condottierri. Their loose overcoats, with their blue and silver all too clear, their rapiers hidden. Soldiers from the Aveas, the airship currently in the harbour, apparantly on short leave. With a loud cry they demanded red wine, settling at a central table. Humility was not in their nature.
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Re: The Old Troll under the Bridge (Fryday 30th, afternoon)

Post by Sosa on Sat Nov 26, 2016 4:44 pm

A little bewildered by the waitresses attention, Sosa munched her food.
Living in the Citadel she had almost forgotten how rowdy taverns could.

In this one the rowdiness was of a spectacular level though. waitresses winking at her was not a thing which happened often. Or ever..

Too much Pan. She mused. It is even interfering with other Gods. i can barely feel the Light in here

She continued staring, and let her eyes rest on the gentleman who was scribbling, drawing? At the other table. Obviously, it did not go as he planned, according to his sour face. She grinned at him, not being easily impressed by grumpy gentlemen.
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Re: The Old Troll under the Bridge (Fryday 30th, afternoon)

Post by Verhaal on Sat Nov 26, 2016 5:52 pm

Being a bachelor and youngest of the de Alvarando (a very minor merchant family in World's Mouth, afloat merely by the connection to a famous couturier in Citadel), Bryome had never really learned how to cook. His yahrens spent as an acolyte of Dominicus were of no help as well for food were provided, the yahrens afterwards were spent with someone who had culinary skill and it never did cross his mind to learn as long as he could order out. So our tailor was a devout patron and client of the tavern from the day he landed on the island many months now.

He was so intent on his artistic plagiarism that he did not notice the group of Condioterri until they were well inside the tavern and boisterous.

Now, we could not blame Byrome for his next actions, he was a felon on the run (or so he thought) and the sight of any authorities, whether local or otherwise (on this instance, authorities from his country), could leave a law offender nervous and twitchy and the first thing he did (or anyone for that matter) was...

"Merda!" He muttered under his breath and cursed again silently, his eyes bulging out at the sight of their uniforms, hoping that they did not hear him. Bryome never noticed his hand slowly creeping toward his cane and ever so slowly, his brown eyes (now alert) never leaving his countrymen, he gathered his things (with his other hand), ready to bolt unnoticed if he could.

Being alert now, he now took notice of another pair of eyes on him and he swiveled to a smiling Sosa who had seen everything he was doing and frowned at her, not in anger, but in curiosity, as if trying to place where he had seen her before. A few flickers of staring contest and his eyes registered recollection.

"Lady Sosa!" He muttered in recognition, mouthing her name, his brown eyes widening even more so, both in awe and fear, his hand closing upon his cane.

"Merda!" Fuck! He cursed, and cursed silently once again for swearing in front of Sosa. He moved his eyes from the group of Condotierri and back to Sosa (Authorities from both World's Mouth and Citadel), seeking a way out of this dilemma.

"Fuck!" He groaned.

ooc: Hi Maeve, sent you a pm how Bryome recognized Sosa, if not approved, I'll edit the post accordingly.

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Re: The Old Troll under the Bridge (Fryday 30th, afternoon)

Post by Maeve on Sun Nov 27, 2016 9:14 pm

The wench walked away with swaying hips, giving Sosa a wink over her shoulder for all her sterness that could not be kept out of her visage, stopping just short of blowing a kiss. Pan was nothing if not mischievious. Dum Dum Dum. The distant darkness would not stop throbbing, an undercurrent.

Were Byrome's eyes betraying him? Was it truly Lady Sosa? There was nothing revealing the paladin as a high level councillor and very few were the paintings of her outside her armour, visor down. What was it that called so deeply to his soul that he recognized the asture heroine of long ago?

The boisterous Condotierrie did not seem to notice a fellow country man, instead ordering beer. The girl that had flirted with Sosa was p ulled on the lap of a burly man, who kist the top of her breasts to amusement of his fellows. She shrieked becomingly, wringling but not truly strugling. Paying cosumers, hopefully.

OOC: Tsk. Careful now!
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Re: The Old Troll under the Bridge (Fryday 30th, afternoon)

Post by Verhaal on Sun Nov 27, 2016 10:31 pm

ooc: sorry and duly noted. Shall improvise then.

It was not a soul recognizing another kindred soul nor any sort of that romantic stuff, but it was purely... business. Business of fashion.  Even kings, priests, ceasars and the mightiest heroes (for this matter, a heroine) need a tailor.

And it was to his aunt that most of them went to, back in the glory yahrens when he was green and grateful to be the apprentice and assistant to his aunt in their main Citadel branch. He had seen many of them flocking to their shop:  The rich, the nobles, the lady consul (or was she promoted by then to an ambassadress by the Magisters?), the courtiers, and even our mighty heroine before us. His aunt catered to them all, and he was there, back then, assisting, learning, invisible.

Well... well... well... Perhaps it was his lucky day after all, he mused. It will be a busy day for his fellow countrymen. Hopefully, a busy few days! And so, before things could  get any worse, he quickly placed what he owed for his meal on the table, took his cane, gave a gentleman nod to Nash and Sosa as his farewell and very calmly, slowly, like a leisure walk in the park, tried to saunter out of the tavern like any normal customer would do.

Unnoticed, or perhaps deliberately, the small piece of parchment was left behind on the table.

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Re: The Old Troll under the Bridge (Fryday 30th, afternoon)

Post by Sosa on Tue Nov 29, 2016 4:21 pm

Never a dull moment in a harbor tavern, Sosa mused, taking it all in: The nervous gentleman, the loud Condottieri and the tailors reaction.
She almost giggled at the face Bryome made (must be Pan's influence), but managed to return his formal nod with a graceful bow.

Unfortunately, while standing up, the large sword which hung on her chair was knocked to the floor, making Sosa dive after it. This action brought her close enough to the table left by Byron to snatch the piece of paper he left there. Hopefully unseen. (It would be very improper to see a Paladin snatching things from tables)
Why She did thism she did not know exactly: Curiosity? Boredom? Hoping for a clue to why she was here?


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Re: The Old Troll under the Bridge (Fryday 30th, afternoon)

Post by Verhaal on Wed Nov 30, 2016 9:50 pm

ooc: Hi, just going to describe further what‘s on the paper.

Perhaps the paper may hold the answer to Sosa's questions... Or perhaps, it may not.

If upon close scrutiny, the paper showed a very-well made charcoal design of an attire (see post above) that may or may not be familiar to our famous Paladin. We know not if she had ever noticed the actual attire displayed on a distant tailor shop, in a distant island (full of roguish people), oh so yahrens ago.

What was strange were the names scribbled all over the paper, most of which were crossed out (save one) with penmanship so different from each other as if the actual person bearing that name went physically to the tavern and signed on that unimportant paper:

Bryome Harden de Alvarando
Audrey Harden
Mdme Claudia de Lesseps
Signore Lucas Montalban
Fr. Guiseppe de Arsiwal

...And a few more unimportant names.

Bryome on the other hand was still trying to unobtrusively, calmly, serenely, yet gracefully, meander his way around the tables, barmaids and patrons of the tavern, dispensing a few gentleman nods here and there, like it was normal for a customer to do so.

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Re: The Old Troll under the Bridge (Fryday 30th, afternoon)

Post by Maeve on Thu Dec 01, 2016 11:34 pm

Around them the cheer continued. Nobody noticed Sosa getting a grip on a paper that might reveal all. As it was.. it was rather curious.
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Re: The Old Troll under the Bridge (Fryday 30th, afternoon)

Post by Raevyn on Tue Dec 06, 2016 3:38 am

There were things in this vast world that Raevyn had enjoyed, and there were things that the little hadn't like as much. One of her dislikes were portals. She hated them with a passion, yet that paled in comparison to what she had endured on the long harrowing journey to Port Town.

Ships.

Those infernal creations that had to be man made because no adhiel in their right mind would ever come up with such a monstrosity. It was large and unsightly, and to the subterranean born adhiel, cumbersome and untrustworthy. Whether it was the nauseating sway the waves caused her to endure the entire journey, or the stench that seemed to permeate the vessel, portals were a far better option.

Not even the long awaited arrival back on to solid land was enough for Raevyn. Her time at sea must have done something to her legs because even the normally easy task of just walking around became an ordeal for the budding priestess. It was so bad that upon arrival, Raevyn felt compelled to find the first hole in the ground and hide. Even if that meant her digging it up herself.

To make things worse for her, it was cold. Not just cold, but bitter cold. Colder than anything the adhiel had ever experienced in all her years on the surface. Raevyn was cold, she was tired. After her time at sea, all she wanted was a hot bath and a warm soft bed. Food could wait, and as she happened upon the Inn, she knew this was the place. A gentleman was pushing his way out as she was making her way in.

"This should do," she said out loud.
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Re: The Old Troll under the Bridge (Fryday 30th, afternoon)

Post by Maeve on Fri Dec 23, 2016 12:21 am

Many people carefully slided in. There were many strangers to this morning, and it made it somewhat uncomfortable. The waitresses nevertheless kept serving everybody, sharing mulled ale and wine to warm the bones. Yuletide made it

"I say," one of the patrons said to the bartender "How many elligible gentlemen will be in attendance to the Baron's reception do you think?" There was a knowing look "I bet the baron will be adding more ladies than is proper."

"Not something the likes of us will be attending. Just them gentle folk, and perhaps a merchant or two," his companion answered dismissively "You care to wager who will be attending."

"There is rumour of lady or two from the Citadel," the patron said pointedly "Or have you not noticed how the highbrow folk seems to be flooding Porttown?"
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Re: The Old Troll under the Bridge (Fryday 30th, afternoon)

Post by Camus Bennett on Tue Dec 27, 2016 12:53 am

Camus came downstairs from his room, having carefully unpacked his meager travel belongings. He looked around the main room of the inn which seemed to be filling quickly with more travellers. It was not hard to notice the ones that were out of place, just as he had been trained at the temple. The high priest always told him to look for the ones that seemed lost or aimless, the ones needing guidance.

The young panling was instantly drawn to the dark skinned adhiel fresh off the boat. He had never seen a dark adhiel in the city, but he had heard stories from all types of folk. It was not likely that his staring was even remotely discrete by this point. The acolyte shook his head and tried to get back to his purpose. It was the sight of Lady Sosa that got his mind straight. She was a familiar face around the temple, a friend to both his high priest and the Mother's. He tried to catch her eye with a sly smile and a wink that told a secret between them. She was known to sneak around the city same as this.

Camus finally gathered his nerve and headed towards the dark adhiel traveller. There was a lingering nervous fear as he approached her. "Greetings, my lady, my name is Camus. Can I interest you in a drink?"

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Re: The Old Troll under the Bridge (Fryday 30th, afternoon)

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