Whilst listening to the Bards Lovely Tunes Karosim Then looks around at the fellow alehouse people (for lack of a better word) and then wonders why he even came here then looked back at the beautiful Drow and remebers
Through Ale, Alaundo found his wisdom. Thus, maybe for Alaundo, the Alehouse is merely a temple to what grants him wisdom.
And welcome Xeroshi, the Alehouse tends to go in spurts. A many of us will drink deep into our cups, then passout in the topic (seemingly), before returning after a time.
Seeing that it has been some time since the last bar fight, wubble throws his tankard at a tiefling on the other side of the room. He then pulls a stool out from under a dwarf and tackles a barrel chested half orc to the ground. While the half orc pummels him he reaches for a stein offered to him by an eager ferret and smashes it atop the head of the half orc.
Karosim thinks to himself "what the heck" and guiles theme begins. He punches the half orc, kicks stoat, throws the dwarf, and orders a second stein of ale
Using the distractions caused by the other patrons, Wubble chops the half orc in the throat then flips him over and performs the people's elbow on him. Having dealt with the half orc Wubble thanks the ferret and proceeds to punch a rather surly looking lumberjack in the face.
Nimran rises from his seat and goes to collect Stoat, who had collapsed into a drunken stupor the night before. Nimran, of course, was too busy enjoying his own drinks to collect the ferret earlier.
A half-elf in a hooded black tunic pokes her head through the door of the alehouse and looks around before awkwardly shuffling in and taking a seat at the end of the bar.
Ridian bursts through the doors of the tavern. He saw a crowd of people stumble in all at the same time and got excited easily. The tan and charcoal haired elf started taking awkward and diagonal strides before landing his eyes on a half-elf he could poke fun with. Unloosening his green cape and throwing it over his shoulder and approached the girl. "And why does an elf, at least part of an elf, want to hang around a smudgy old place like this?"
The half-elf gave a start upon being addressed and looked over with wide grey eyes at the elf. For a brief moment, she debated with herself as to whether she should answer him or just bolt, but her resentment of how he had referred to her overpowered her skittishness. "Part of an elf? My ears may not be as long as yours, but I'm a whole person," she responded, her voice quiet and slightly northern accented. "And as for why I'm here, that is no business of a stranger."
"Did I say you were not? I only addressed you were not a full blooded elf." He had a cocky and sly grin on his face as he tapped the bar for an order of collared greens and potato. He flicked his chin a little bit as he prepared to speak again. "As for why you're here? Yes I am strange and I will never involve myself with 'business,' but that does not change my question." He points to the gnome in the middle of the bar and the half orc mulling over after his last fight. "You see those two? You either end up sitting here for days WISHING for someone to speak with you, only to act natural when it happens, or you get into a big argument and then wait for a third party to finally end the fiasco." He turns his hazel eyes back to the half-elf. "So which of the two are you? Or are you different? That's the question."
Ivae glanced at the gnome and the half-orc and then narrowed her eyes at the elf, not sure what to make of him. "I am neither. I came here to be forgotten," she answered cryptically. Talking and trusting were two things she had never been good at and she was making both readily apparent. Who could blame her? Saying too much to the wrong person could land her back in Silverymoon with all the fun consequences that entailed. "Why does it interest you so much?"
Receiving his potato before his greens, Ridian grabbed a knife shakily cross cut his food and started slicing into the white potato with no particular pattern. "Ever live in the woods? Gets boringly lonely." He stares far off into the colored bottles behind the barkeep. "Last person I met in a place like this? Dumbest dwarf in the Realms. Finest specimen, best source of a good chuckle, and a pain in my rear end." Remembering his polar opposite of a companion fondly, he snaps out of his nostalgia. Ridian lifts his knife, and wipes the edge of it in his mouth to clean some potato. "So if I find someone I want to share some good stories with in a bar like last time? I am going to be interested in whatever strikes my fancy." he says lazily, not sure if he is making much sense and not much caring.
Ivae quirks a pale eyebrow at the elf before her eyes are drawn to the potato in his hands, which she stares at hungrily. She hasn't eaten in a long time and it shows in her malnourished frame. Realizing she's staring, she abruptly looks away. "I'm afraid you would find me rather boring in that respect. I have no exciting stories to tell. You have my ear if you wish to tell a tale of your own, however," she told the elf.
Ridian receives his collared greens a moment later and places them between himself and the half-elf. "They give you so much, it's like they are feeding you a whole leg of a lamb." He twiddles his fingers in greeting to the newcomer, assuming him to be a waiter of some sort. "Yes chap, would you mind if we could get a bottle of firewine? On me, of course." He turns back to the girl. "Well surely just telling me about a friend is enough to get me interested, dear." He then decides to transition into a boring conversation that he feels would keep her un enthused. "I thought about foraging today, and then thought about how good berries are in a way an unnatural and divine creation. You know, as it seems that they are only created by the priestly types, they cannot possibly be qualified as fruit, can they?"
Ivae shakes her head at the offer of food and drink. Her coin purse is just as empty as her stomach and would rather no indebt herself to this random stranger in even smallest way, but she can hardly stop him it seems. She shifts uncomfortably as he continues to talk and wonders if that's his goal. "I have no friends, if you must know," she tells him sheepishly. "And I would rather not speak of my family, so who am I to tell you about?"
Ridian shoos the newcomer away with his hand. "Well, be off then. I'll order a bottle myself, sir." He looks at the kale in front of him: "You'd be doing me a favour. Like I had said, the collard greens are too hefty and I need someone to eat a little for me." Picking up pieces of sliced mashed potato and popping them in his mouth, Ridian speaks once more with food in his mouth. "Okay, you have no friends now. But you did. Tell me something from your childhood. Have a bully that pulled your hair because he had a crush on you?" To egg her on with answering, he continues his Goodberry conversation: "Well, I had been thinking that Goodberries were most unnatural till I had seen them in the forest. Now I know not what to think. Fruit? Divine creation? Can they be both if they were wrought upon a deity not committed to nature?"
Ivae shifts uncomfortably, suddenly feeling crowded. Still, she is conditioned to be non-confrontational, so she gives another head shake at the food offering and acquiesces to the elf's questions, if only to get it over with as quickly as possible, because it's clear that he isn't going anywhere. "I've never had friends, nor much of a childhood. I've spent most of my life in a tower, being tutored by my father, and he rarely let me leave to do anything besides get supplies. There were children who liked to throw rocks at me and call me a freak when I was out, but I highly doubt it was some twisted show of affection," Ivae admits, not making eye contact at all as she speaks.
"Well..." Ridian pauses and returns to his potato bits. "Quite the story of a childhood. That's what the grey eyes are for, then? Or is it the fact that you were tutored in a tower?" He takes his plate of greens and heartily enjoys them. In between bites he mumbles "More for me!"
Comments
Through Ale, Alaundo found his wisdom. Thus, maybe for Alaundo, the Alehouse is merely a temple to what grants him wisdom.
And welcome Xeroshi, the Alehouse tends to go in spurts. A many of us will drink deep into our cups, then passout in the topic (seemingly), before returning after a time.
It's not very effective...
"Serve me your finest ale mench, so that I may rule... drunk°"
°a male wench
"That was a hell of a fight friend, fancy a pint?"
*wubble orders two pints of Ale and tries to see what mischief the ferret has caused while he was passed out*