Tales of Faerun

[Macman253]

Markas Goblinsfoe sat in a corner of The Shifting Sands Tavern, he was a fairly lithe Halfling, his clothes were ratty and torn from years of travel. He sat with a once-fine-looking pair of calf-skin boots on the table as he nursed his third cup of ale. On his belly was a small plate of potatoes and beans which he ate with a wooden spoon. At his feet was a large warhound, a big black Mastiff with a long pink tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth while his thick tail beat the wood legs of the chair behind him as he waited patiently for something from Markas' plate. The Halfling smiled and tossed him a small potato, the large hound ignored it and Markas chuckled. He lowered his mug and the dog began slurping the ale.

 

"Cheers pal." He said to the hound as he drank, when the dog had finished he sniffed out the potato and Markas finished off his ale.

 

He sat back in the chair, glad to be off his feet for the first time in weeks. As he sat back in the busy tavern he watched a Drow enter, and behind her a strange man with glowing tattoos. He smiled wide.

 

"Don't see many Drow." He said as he looked closer, noticing she was somewhat different then the traditional Drow he had heard rumors of. He looked to Fang, "What do you think? Should we go introduce ourselves?" He said to the large black dog, Fang looked up at Markas for a second then fixed on his plate again and began to whine. Markas rolled his eyes and set the plate on the floor, "Bloody glutton." He said as he stood from his chair.

Edited April 7, 2015 by Macman253

[FreemasonGamer]

Rameses happily held the tavern door open as his many companions poured into the tavern, which surprisingly had few other guests. Aside from the few locals occupying a table or two and the bar, the only other figure he took note of was an odd little halfling accompanied by a black mastiff nearly twice his master's size.Grinning at the amusing pair, Rameses gave the halfling a nod.

 

"Greetings. You look to be the sort to speak Common well enough?" The fire genasi asked him as the last of his adventuring group entered the tavern.

Edited April 9, 2015 by FreemasonGamer

[josh900]

As the group traveled to town, Leif endured the constant barrage of questions from Hexol with one of his own, exciting the Kender even further as it gave him a reason to talk even more, happily answering Leif's many questions about Kender, where he came from, and a few questions about the group in general.

 

"Dropping out of the sky like that..." Lucas muttered to the nearby Azuris. "That's just.... not normal."

 

"And just when was the last time we experienced anything normal?" Azuris asked with a smirk.

 

"I've forgotten what that even looks like to be honest." Lucas admitted, falling back into step with the others

--------

 

As they reached the town and the outside of the Tavern, the Griffon's personality made itself very apparent.

 

"Zaph, you stay out here okay?" Leif ordered the Griffon, who then immediately began to squawk and chirp at him angrily.

"Don't you backtalk me, you can't fit through the door alright? Now just stay-"

 

"SQUAAAWK!"

 

"What did I just say? Just give me a couple minutes, then we'll get you settled in the stables and." And once again he was cut off by the Griffon's backtalk which grew steadily worse and worse, cutting Leif off at every word until he finally grew tired of it, and smacked Zaph across the beak.

 

Zaph responded to this with what seemed to be momentary confusion, which was then followed by an angry squawk before he ran off down the street to gain speed and flew off.

 

"Teenagers." Leif muttered with a shake of his head. "He'll be back, he's just running away from home." He said, making air quotes with his fingers before following the rest of the group into the tavern.

 

"You....speak Griffon?" Lucas asked, thinking that Leif didn't look the part of a druid or someone that could speak to beast.

 

"Nope." Leif shook his head. "But I do speak angsty, rebellious teenager so that works too." He said with giggle.

[Deleted6317247User]

"Ah, yes," Shalena said with a chuckle, "a fee sounds like an interesting idea. Good thing we're already members of the group." The piratess added.

 

As they reached the nearest town, Shalena went straight to the nearest tavern. Once inside she ordered enough food and drinks for the whole group but leaving someone else to pay for it. Orion followed the piratess inside and joined her at the table. "Our group seems like a small army now." He said. "More like a traveling circus," the piratess replied, "I bet someone addressed us in such a fashion."

 

Nawen lingered outside for a while, helping Argyros and Conall with the horses, as well as leaving them a few treats, before heading to the tavern. She wondered for a moment where Leif is going to keep his griffon only to see the creature flying off. Smiling to herself, she gestured for Rhegar to follow her and made her way inside. As soon as the drow entered, she noticed Shalena and Orion already at the table but there was also something else that caught her attention. A Mastiff sitting by what looked like a halfling. "It seems I'm not the only one who brought an animal friend here." She said to Rhegar and made her way towards on if the tables.

Edited April 9, 2015 by Guest

[AurianaValoria1]

As they proceeded into the tavern, Argyros smirked at Rameses, "Oh, I noticed. I just did not deem you a threat. Believe me, had I thought you meant harm to my comrades, you would not be standing here." Beside him, Abby took the genasi up on his generous offer, grinning from ear to ear, "If you're buyin', I'm drinkin'!" The halfling then promptly made her way up to the bar and sat at a stool, waiting for the first round of drinks that Shalena had ordered and that apparently Rameses was paying for, her legs swinging back and forth in the air as they were too short to touch the floor. Zorica sat a few stools down for the exact same reason. Rhaine, meanwhile, chose a table in the corner, squinting at the fare the waitress put before her several minutes later. It appeared to be an odd mishmash of some sort of meat and vegetables, beside which a flagon of pale ale was set. The Doomguide had to admit it did not look all that appetizing, but with the way some local was scarfing down his portion a few tables over, it could not have been all that bad.

Edited April 10, 2015 by AurianaValoria1

[Macman253]

Markas nodded to the big burning man. "Aye, that I do." He remarked with a smile. Fang sauntered over after his meal was finished and sat down next to the Halfling. Markas patted the dog on the back between the shoulder blades, which rested at eye level with the young Outrider. A sound that came across like a hand slapping a slab of muscle, which from the look of the hound that is exactly the case.

 

He extended his hand up for the Genasi to shake. "Markas Goblinsfoe." He said and nodded towards the large warhound. Hanging from the collar on his neck was a Tymoran coin. "..This 'ere is Fang." He added, "Outrider, wanderer and nomad. At your service."

 

Markas was wearing a kilt as a cloak. Strapped to his hip was a shortsword and a parrying dagger was tied to his boot. Fang had scars over his body that Markas also bore, his jacket had no right sleeve the arm underneath had countless small scars. He appeared weatherbeaten and worn yet he had a warm smile on his face.

Edited April 11, 2015 by Macman253

[josh900]

"Well that looks appetizing." Leif said as he approached Rhaine's table, pointing at the slop in front of her.

"So, tell me," He said as he took a seat opposite from her, "What's this little party all about? You got people from all over apparently just wandering around with sand all packed in their unmentionables, gotta be a point to it unless you're all just crazy."

[Flipout6]

Amendale sat in the corner of the Shifting Sands inn, alone at a table. He kept to himself, picking at a shallow bowl of stew in front of him, nearly untouched. Zorica was up at the bar counter getting a drink for herself. He smiled a little to himself, but sharply deminded himself to keep his distance. She needed some space, anyways, and perhaps not having to deal with him while she got drunk would make her a happy drunk instead of a weeping one. He wasn't sure he'd be able to handle the latter.

The drinks were pale ales, but they did the trick. Dry and strong, they did not go down easy, and so Zorica was a bit shocked when she saw Abby downing them so quickly. The little halfling seemed to hold her alcohol well enough, though, and even when she was working on the third tankard, Abby was still clear-eyed and jabbering a thousand miles per hour about what all she'd seen while traveling with Leif. Amendale raised an eyebrow at the halfling's chattering, deciding that he'd have to see about trying to heal her memory at some point. Mystra willing, a simple healing spell would do the trick.

After the first few sentences of Abby's chatter, Zorica's brain began to zone out, and it was just as well to her. After her second tankard, she began to feel warm and slightly light-headed, and it numbed the disappointment that plagued the back of her mind. She stabbed her fork a bit at the slop that had been set before most of them, but she concentrated mostly on her drinking, ordering a third tankard and downing the first half of it in one long swig.

Zorica's increasingly-obvious intoxication was rather amusing to Amendale, and more than a little cute. He shrugged internally and decided that if she did something potentially embarassing or got too drunk, he would step in to help her out. He'd have to help her up the stairs, of course.

Zorica herself could feel Amendale's eyes on her back, but she did her best to ignore it, instead focusing on her drink. It was not long after that it hit her that she was consciously getting drunk. She had not really intended to do that, the thought only passing across her mind briefly before, but now that she was so far gone already...it seemed too late to stop now. Perhaps she would drink herself to passing out or something, and then be lucky enough not to remember it all so she would not have to be embarassed. She tossed back the remainder of her third tankard and ordered a fourth, all the while the bartender looking at her skeptically, but her sharp amber glare making him scurry to do her bidding.

After seven tankards, Abby was effectively smashed, requiring the aid of Weyland to get her to a room safe and sound. It only took Zorica five...and the paladin was stumbling across the floor, vision blurred, trying not to make eye contact with anyone around her. She was heading for the inn stairs when she walked right into an empty table, and she staggered backward, leaning on a chair back for support.

Suddenly, she felt a hand grab her by the arm, albeit very lightly, and steer her towards the stairs. "Come on, Zorica." Amendale murmured behind a faint grin. "Lean on me if you have to, I'll get you to your room."

She could feel her face flush, but she realized she needed the help, and so she did not protest, letting the elf guide her up the stairs and to a room. Sir Meowsalot pranced around behind them...though with his swaying, it looked like he'd been doing some drinking too.

"Say, Weyland, I think her cat just downed half your mug." The elf commented offhand as the warrior walked by.

"At least he's got good taste." Weyland muttered, rolling his eyes. "....Stlarning cats..." This did not, however, stop him from giving the cat in question a scratch behind the ears.

"Which room was yours, again?" Amendale asked Zorica. How it was she still maintained the coordination to point at it without accidentally poking his eye out, he didn't know. He steered her towards it, adjusting his balance when she leaned on him for support, feeling dizzy. "Well, we've made our grand adventure up the stairs. At least there's no dragons to slay."

She opened the door herself and turned around, only to grab him by the collar and jerk him inside, slamming it behind him and then him into the door itself. Amendale was thankful there were no witnesses to witness his perplexed expression as she easily dragged him in with a grip that was shaky at best.

He grunted as she shoved him into the door with a thump. "What was that all about?"

"You," she pointed a slender finger in his face, eyes blazing with more than just drink, "You...bastard! Do you realize how much HELL you put me through?!" Her gaze, fiery in its fury, began to brim with tears as well, born of both the strength of her emotion and the alcohol in her system.

Amendale sighed, all traces of mirth disappearing from his face, replaced with something raw. "You know what I've been through. You were there, you saw." He murmured. "I couldn't let him get away."

She hissed in a breath, "And you thought only of your revenge...not of what might happen to you and then to me by extension..."

"You were the one who planted the idea of vengeance in my head in the first place!" He countered sharply. "I was just trying to move on and you brought to light that I'd never be able to until he was dead! It's entirely illogical to be angry at me for following your own advice!"

"I had nothing else to live for, then!" She yelled, gripping his collar tight, "I do now!" She backed away from him, shaking her head slowly, "I've almost given up hope that I'll ever see vengeance."

"You've got more to live for than just me!" He countered in a voice that would, to the uninitiated, be unnervingly calm. "And I sure as hells had no intention of dying, Zorica." He ignored the uncomfortble grip she had on his collar, deciding that she had a right to be angry.

"Intention!?" She yelled again, her voice louder with incredulity, "Intention!? So you think just because you didn't want to die that you wouldn't, you idiot!?"

"No, I mean I had protective wards active. I wasn't going into this vulnerable, Zorica. Those wards would have shielded me even from one of his prismatic spells long enough to dispell it and counterattack."

"You don't know that!" she shook him, "You can never be sure! You don't know how powerful he is, or even if that was his most powerful magic! For all we know, he has greater powers available to him...you ran after him blind!"

"Actually," He corrected her. "-that spell is, quite literally, one of the most powerful offensive spells anyone drawing on the power of the Weave can muster. You're thinking about pestilence? Divine magic will cure that." He paused for a moment, taking a breath, and then admitted, "....and there was nothing stopping Argyros and I from retreating."

"You were lucky Argyros decided to follow you," the half-drow retorted, crossing her arms and swaying, "What if he hadn't?"

"Then nothing would have stopped me from retreating. This is where intentions come into play." Amendale countered irritably. "I didn't intend to become another victim. I had fallbacks to prevent it. I wouldn't have left you alone again even if he had the upper hand."

"And if he managed to injure you so badly you could not return?" She snapped, "You can't anticipate everything, especially from an enemy you know almost nothing about!" She threw her arms in the air and then held her head as the room spun, "You were foolish, Amendale, and you took a chance. Thank the gods you survived..." she trailed, "..you might not, next time." She paused, hiccuped loudly, and added, "Should my enemy ever cross my path, you can bet I won't make the same mistake you have, and cause you as much grief as you have me."

"No," he said. "You won't. Because I'll be by your side the entire time."

Zorica was silent, staring at Amendale with wide, almost vulnerable eyes. They spilled over her cheeks, tears streaming down her face as emotion and alcohol both worked alive in her mind. She rushed forward and threw her arms around his neck, "I love you, you foolish bastard." Amendale couldn't help but smile despite himself and returned the embrace, resting his chin on her shoulder and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"And I love you." He murmured, grinning still. Zorica felt her cheeks flush, and she felt drunk from something else other than alcohol. Lifting his face with her hands, she smiled gently and pressed her lips to his in a deep kiss.

[AurianaValoria1]

Rhaine glanced up at Leif, "Oh...I am sorry. I have not introduced myself properly to you, yet." She proffered her hand to him, reaching across the table, "I am Rhaine Alcinea, Chosen of Kelemvor. These others with me are aiding me in my mission, which was, until very recently, stopping the machinations of a dracolich of the Cult of the Dragon. Now, however, the winds of fate have shifted, and we have new enemies in the Shadovar. Shadovar vampires, to be specific."

 

Leif listened with an arched brow. “Chosen…huh? Of Kelemvor? You pulled many over with that story?” He asked in a hushed tone and a knowing smirk. “I mean sure, you got the look for it and all that, the regal air and wings help sure, but let’s be honest here, favoritism kinda goes against his persona a bit don’t you think?” He asked with a perplexed look.

“I mean don’t get me wrong here, I don’t doubt your uhh.. Quest and all that, but it seems nowadays everyone and their uncle’s claiming to be the Chosen of some god every time you turn around. One would think the gods would be a little less liberal with handing out those titles, ya know?”

 

Rhaine's emerald eyes immediately narrowed, "Excuse me? Do you think I would be so foolish as to claim a title that was not mine? A title only granted by the gods themselves? I do not pity those who have made such a grave error. They surely suffer the wrath of those deities whom they have offended with such preposterous hubris, and rightly so." She raised one brow, "Do not imply that I am a liar again."

 

Leif raised his hands up so that his palms faced her. “Heey I ain’t trying to start a fight here or anything. Honestly it doesn’t even really matter to me. Call yourself whatever you want.” He said with a smile as he lowered his hands back onto the table.

“Besides, stranger things have happened to me than meeting a Chosen out in the middle of nowhere.” He said with a snicker. “So what’s the pay? A troupe that size’s gotta put a dent in the coin purse.”

"There is none, other than the treasure we find," she replied flatly, stabbing the odd-looking slop with her fork, "I take only what is left after everyone else has their pick, and then for the purpose of paying for our food and lodging. I care not for it myself, unless I am in need of replacement equipment." She glanced back up at him, "I like to think the pay is in preventing another evil from having their way in the Realms."

“Sure, yeah. Rid the world of evil, yeah that’s great and all, buuuut… some of us have taxes to pay and mouths to feed.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not that I’m hurting for coin and all but, always nice to bring home a little something extra you know? So if you’ll forgive the mercenary attitude for the moment, How’s the treasure divided up? Percentages, call out what you want, through it all in a pile and play cards for it? What are we talking here?”

 

"I told you," she answered tersely, "You have your pick. If more than one amongst us desires the same thing, which has yet to happen, then I would assume they would be adults about it and resolve it between them. We have not had issue with this method in the past. And any caster can conjure food or water in an emergency, so that, at least, is a non-issue."

 

Letting out a sigh, Leif rested his chin in his hands. “Well that just sounds…. Like a REALLY bad thing waiting to happen. So I’m guessing this ain’t the type of group that takes on the random odd jobs then. Playing it straight and narrow, that’s new.” He said, sitting back up straight. “So where are you all headed for next? Just out of curiosity and all that.”

 

“I do not yet know,” she replied simply, pushing her plate away from her, having lost her appetite, “I am going to discuss it with them on the morrow. If you are interested, perhaps you should be around to listen then. Otherwise, I bid you good night and godspeed.”

 

With that, she rose and departed for her room, leaving her meal untouched.

[FreemasonGamer]

Rameses was happy to greet the Markas with a friendly handshake, and he was surprised by the halfling's sure grip. His weathered appearance and demeanor did not surprise the fire genasi, as he himself would often appear as such after a bad brawl or two. Regardless, meeting the short gentleman and his hound somewhat reassured Rameses in the unfamiliar establishment. "A pleasure, Markas and Fang. It's always a pleasure to encounter fluent Common-speaking folk this far east." Rameses said, following his companions to the bar.

 

True to his word, Rameses was quick to pay for the first drink of each of his companions, which itself nearly drained him of funds. Thankfully he was wise enough to only offer paying for the first round of drinks; between the curious halfling Abby and the burdened half-drow Zorica alone, nearly a dozen drinks in total were ordered. So, Rameses was modest in his own purchase and consumption of food and drink, barely enjoying either.

 

The pale ale he ordered was as harsh and unpleasant as the desert, and the food was essentially of unknown origin or composition. Sipping his drink, Rameses cringed on occasion as he longed for the fine, sweet wines of home. Having lost his hunger, Rameses absentmindedly prodded and sifted through the bowl of what he guessed to be stew, instead nibbling on what strips of smoked beef he had on his person. Quiet in his seat, Rameses thought of Jarl, who was likely causing as much grief as he could in that stable stall; such thoughts brought a weak smile back to Rameses' face.

 

When Zorica was overwhelmed by her vast number of drinks, Rameses watched as she stumbled through the tavern. The fire genasi's slightest concerns were eased when that Amendale fellow took the half-drow upstairs to her room. However, shouting and screaming soon followed as the pair disappeared upstairs, and Rameses sighed to himself before reluctantly draining his mug of ale. Following the undertaking of harsh alcohol, Rameses' head spun, his vision disjointed from reality; it had been before crossing the Shaar since he last had such strong drink, hence his nonexistent tolerance.

 

His mind in a slight haze of alcohol-induced confusion, Rameses stood up from his seat at the bar.

Edited April 15, 2015 by FreemasonGamer