Tavern of Infinity 2

Remove all ads!

Lithien pays careful attention to all that is happening around her, especialy the conversation between the strangly dressed man called Jacques and the scarred swordsman Shura. She was rather worried that they were up to no good, but if the demon did attack she would be right there at Shura's side. After all, the only solution to violence is swift violence, so that no others are hurt.
She notes that he is operant though decides against touching his mind, seeing that he is admitting to destroying a world and all.

**************************************************

ooc: I have a slight dillema. There are two versions of this character that I'm using and have been taking parts of both of them to form this one. I have decided that I want to change it so that it is solely my Nationstates one. Therefor I ask that you all ignore the fact that she said that she was from Toril, and insert Arani there instead.

 

Shura released his drink, a vein showing on his forehead as he focused his will. The small clay mug hovered in mid-air waveringly. After a moment, the swordsman caught it in his hand once more.

" Mental disciplines. I am no stranger to them, having spent almost a decade honing my mind under the tutelage of a demon known as a Cerebral Devourer. Of course, there is the Second Sphere as well..." He veered the conversation off in another direction, as if uneager to discuss the Second Sphere. " I know not the name of my native plane. It is a world of a million different cultures and a million different ways of life. I have spent almost my entire time there in the kingdom of Gryloas, a cold and damp country."

" To the south lie the great swamps of Nekrala, where the walking dead outnumber the living and a vampire queen shares her rule in an uneasy convenant with a band of necromancers." He went on, his eyes taking on a faraway look as he spoke, as if he was reliving those distant memories. " A great desert lies beyond the frigid central plains, ruled by powerful khans who command legions of mounted archers. There are two empires to the distant east, both of which are in decline. There are many evils that threaten my homeworld, you see."

Jacques nodded. His brow creased in amusement. " Are you perchance on a quest to right the wrongs of your world, like some errant hero?" The swordsman chuckled at the statement.

" Far from it." Shura gestured to the barmaid for a refill. She promptly fetched a teapot from behind the counter and complied, bowing in response to Shura's nod of acknowledgement. Jacques noted that the swordsman partook of a strong and fragrant tea rather than the more mind-numbing substances available.

" What do you seek to accomplish on your travels through the planes, then mister Jacques? To sate a pure sense of wanderlust?" He asked.

 

(*sigh* I thought this was a Roleplay Corner. As in the sense that each person role-plays his or her own character. Sheesh.)

"Quick to anger, so are the mortals," mutters the Barbazu, between gulps of Marilith blood, "Call demselves planewalkers, but can't dist'inkish b'tween Devil and Demon. Eeya."

 

Albrecht returns to his notes jotting down more of his observations regarding planar travel and the location he has found himself in. After a while the barman makes approaches him. "May I help you, sir?" he - it? - intones. Albrecht looks up, somewhat startled. "I'll.....uh, this is a drinking establishment of some sort, is it not..." Albrecht hums and haws, mindful of his apprentices currently watching him through a scrying mirror lest anything go amiss, yet wary not to offend his unusual host, "I'd better just have some water, I'm working later on...Elemental water sounds marvellous. Do you accept Lantanese currency?" As the barman pours the water, Albrecht continues to speak, " And would you mind indulging my curiosity as to the nature of this place, and where it lies in the structure of the planes? Also," he gestures towards the Barbazu, " is that a genuine fiend?"

 

Kanorr hisses a forked tongue at the gnome, and wonders briefly what gnome tastes like. He considers devouring him, except that he (even he) realizes that these aren't the right circumstances.

"Yess. I Kanorr, Barbazu. I Baatezu. True Fiend."

Kanorr pauses to spit in his filth-ridden beard.

"As apposed to, say, the Ta'anari."

 

OOC: Well Oaz, I initiated this so that others could have some action...I would prefer my persona to take on more of an observing and backseat role, you see, leaving all the excitement to those who had not participated in the Tavern of Infinity 1 before.

BTW: To Shura the swordsman, devils/demons are the same as far as he's concerned...he bears them as little love as he bears devas/ghaele eldarins...

Lastly: Sorry if you got offended, Oaz.

 

(Heh, it's not a big deal. As for differentiating (sp) between Devils and Demons, well, that's always a big concern to fiends. Devils hate Demons and Demons hate Devils. But you knew that.)

 

Albrecht, heedless of the devil's intentions simply mutters "Fascinating, fascinating, " and scribbles down some more notes, then resumes trying to question the barkeep on the nature of the Tavern.

 

Jacques chuckled. "Ah yes... I guess what draws me to the planes can bbe called a wanderlust of a kind. I enjoy partaking the finer pleasures in life... such as fine wine or the company of an exquisite creature." With that, he gestured with his glass to call the bar maid to bring him another glass of wine, this time not Merlot but something called Nizhalle'th.
"And after all, there are always interesting blades to be picked up on the planes." He added, his eyes half-lidded, a smile appearing on his lips. His fascination with blades was not something to be taken lightly. "I have collected quite a few blades that have piqued my interest during my travels."
The bar maid had brought him a new glass, filled with liquid the color of fresh blood. He sipped his drink, a pleased expression on his face. "Ah yes... this wine is exquisite. It has been twenty years since the last time I was able to taste it... You should try some as well."
________________________________

(ooc: I am thinking starting a story with Mengrovian... that could be fun )

(*straight face*)

 

*I'm a little late,... hope i'm not too late *


The door to the Tavern opens and a man steps through. He looks harmless enough, wearing a simple dark-green garb over which strapped leather armor onto which various items are hung. Claws, teeth, talons and such remains of wild animals. He wears common leather boots and a heavy short cloak stiffly hanging over his back.
He is a rather large muscular man with a long oaken staff, seeming somewhat alive radiating energy strapped over his back. On his shoulder sits a bird unfamiliar to the observers.


As he enters the Tavern he takes a good look at it, scans for instant threaths. He goes to a table in the corner bypassing barmaid and ordering a mug of clear water.
He sits in the corner, his demeanor neither friendly neither hostile. He continues to observe people as they go on with their previous doings.

 

What seems to follow in this man's footsteps, another standing nearly 6 feet, enters through the door. His footsteps thump against the wooden floor with a slight clang of metal. Head bent, he walks over to a corner and sits himself down, slumping his back against the wall.

This form, is covered entirely in a long black flowing robe. The hood attached is drawn over his head allowing the shadow to conceal most of his face. All that is visible is a jaw set against a light brown chin. Cleanly shaven, the lips mutter some hardly distinguishable words to a waitress who leaves to return with a mug of frothing ale. She then collects the payment off him (which reveals a light brown hand; slim yet wrought with veins) and leaves, leaving him to the solitude his form seems to crave,the solitude amongst others.

The only other distinguishing aspect of this hanging form is a long silver chain with an emblem hanging around his neck over the robe. Also, by his side is his backpack and a long, black staff with a skull encrusted on the top. Both of the sockets seem to glow a faint blood red.

The figure sits and drinks his ale... in silence, in thought, in solitude...

 

Kanorr approaches the man with the bird. He eyes it hungrily, and leans on his weapon.

Turning his eyes to the man himself, the Barbazu gives him a pentrating, if not bestial, look.

"You lookesth powerfull. Alive. Where you fromm?"

A chilling aura of fear and disease surrounds Kanorr, who still looks on the edge of frenzy and battle.

 

Quietly the door swings open and a small common looking halfling enters the tavern. Wearing a deep blue full length clock he slowly and silently steps towards the bar. As he walks he looks around observing the other patrons (i think this is the right word?). An air of mystery surrounds him as he takes a seat by the bar and orders u glass of fresh orange juice. He sits there a while longer mentally noteing down every thing he can about the tavern and its occupants. After a while he stands up and quietly moves over to the hooded figure in the corner.
As he sits down he nods his head and says "greeting," in a voice surprisingly deep for a halfling.
And sits and waits for a response.

 

**************************************************
The man sitting in the far corner got up and again, made his way to the bar, however this time not with the intention to speak to the quiet semi-transparent barmaid. He walked straight to the bartender and asked for a refil.
"Why, in emporer Dagroth's bar, you never need to worry about your good old Ginnan Tonnics running out. It comes in a BARREL! Yeah, you heard me. And the atmosphere, you didn't get so much bloody tension! Look at this, a demon, about 4 or 5 'mysterious' nobodys, and all of them half way to drawing a sword and handing out some smack down. They are always like this, heroes. All 'quiet and mysterious'. All they ever do is sit down in the corner and sip on water. WATER for gods sake. If i wanted to drink water, I would have been a fish. In fact, I've been a fish before, back when......"
He didn't finish the obviously intriguing story due to the funny look the big and hairy slobbering thing was giving him.
"Whaddya want, ugly?" he taunted as he walked past. "All these bloody mysteries. You'd think this was an Agatha Cristie mystery. I met her once, a long time ago in Queen Victoria's palace...."
And with that, and his refill, he went to have a chat with the only non-mysterious person in the bar. The gnome.
**************************************************

 

The mysterious halfling stands up after hearing what the mysterious man who use to be in the corner said. Not waiting for a resonse from the man in the black cloak. He walked, as most halflings do walk, with out a sound over to were this human was standing by the bar.
"And whats so bad about mysterious characters?" the halfling askes.

***************************************
ooc: hey Baezlebub, its a mysterious world we live in mate its called earth. There is a mysterious thing about every thing.

 

Yeah, plenty mysterious, but not everyone in a pub is going to be mysterious. More often than not they're gonna be pissed . BTW, if you follow the rugby, we thrashed Otago last night.
**************************************************
"Where the HELL did you come from. I could swear that there was only one small midget in here. Yeah you heard me, midget. I call you that, because you're short, and your opinion doesn't matter. Everything is wrong with mysterious. As an adjective, it sucks. At least everyone in the bar has the word 'mysterious' printed on his or her forehead. Why am i talking to you anyway. Order your water and stand in a corner short stuff. Stop wasting my time. Why, if Emporer Dagroth was here, he'd show you. He didn't stand for midgets.......gmbl......fed to hippos....."
And with that, he left to stand in the middle of the bar in plain view with his small Ginnan Tonnics, ready to defend his honour against anyone who had the tars on him to call him mysterious. He was normal, and proud of it.
**************************************************

 

Gothmog watched the demon walking towards him and he sights wearily, thinking how casual these demons are becoming.

He answers the Barbazu:
"I'm powerful enough for you demon if you know what i mean. But i havent come here to pick up a fight, so dont bother with me, yes?
I come from prime material plane Toril, though that doesnt matter anymore.
I'm a hierophant, a plane traveler. Primarily i'm looking for knowledge,... and other things."

Enough about me now, what about you? Where do you hail from?
I didnt think to find a demon in such a place. I dont think you like to be here,... do you?

 

Kanorr gives Gothmog a cold sneer.

"Aoh, the arrrogance of morrtals. Didn't mean to pick a fight with you, oh mighty man, 'though you seem more self-possessed than Geryon hisself.

"Must Kanorr make de dis'tinkyon every time? I from Baator. Devils coome frrom Baator. Demons not. But I suppose morrtals 'ike you have no concern, ffeh.

"And Kanorr dislikes getting flayed 'nd torrtured, like various mortals do. Me not thinkin' Kanorr tells you everything 'bout him. But if 'tis knowledge you mortal is lukin' forr, then I'm glad to take you, ah, to more... exciting places."

(Sorry about the insults, Gothmog, but Kanorr tends to rude. It's just something that comes along with being raised in an infernal pit bred for killing .)

 

No problem, it does suit a devil,. or demon? Infernal anyway

*********************************************************************************

Follow you?
I'm not *that* stupid, you know. If you have something to say to me you can say it here.
Anyway do you know what are all these people doing here... naturaly this is a tevarn but it usualy isn't so crowded with people carrying themselves as confident in their abilities as many do here...not to mention you here.

 

The figure looks up when the halfling greets him but before he can respond, the halfling wonders off to challenge the man complaining about the lack of gin and tonic. The figure's gaze moves from the halfling to the man. His eyes start to glow a slight Arcana yellow as he stares at the man.

"...Peasant."

He remains seated whilst staring... the glow from his eyes have faded back into the darkness of the hood. The only visible movement is the slight breathing when the figure raises an arm and his staff flies to his hands. He then lowers his arm and uses the staff as some kind of support. The eyes on the staff glow a very bright blood red and the shape of the eyes seem to have arched, almost as if the skull was grinning a sick, twisted and evil smile ...