Glare of the Crimson Sun: IC

[Ravian]

The Dark Red sun of Athas beats down upon the City of Balic, jewel of the Estuary of the Forked Tongue. Highsun has always been a scorching season, but few could remember one hotter than this one. Despite the heat wave though, street activity goes on as usual, including in the West Gate Slums. Mostly inhabited by new immigrants and other poor and destitute inhabitants, the slum serves as a key black market spot due to the nearby Elven Market. Creatures of all races conduct business on the streets, and today is just like any other. Several small curio stands line the pavement sell trinkets of much acclaim but little value, while a few street performers attempt to garner tips from passersby, whether the passersby are aware of their donation or not is another question eintirely. The only permanent establishment this stretch of street is the Tari's tail, an inn and broyhouse named for the rat-like humanoids of the wastes. A Large Thri-Kreen stands guard at the door as a bouncer.

(go on and establish where you are on the street)

[Grey_Wolf_c]

Karak Grint, Discarded Golem

A large, almost hulking, creature of indeterminate race stands in the shadow of one of the side streets, passively standing out of the oppressing heat and, as far as any passer by could tell, just watching the flow of people along the main street. A regular observer would give this creature a wide berth, since it looks dangerous and poor. A casual look would pick up on the layers of grime covering the creature: a leather armour badly stitched together from two or three smaller ones, splattered with gore, desert clothing more wrapped than worn around the body, and a thick layer of desert dust everywhere else. A large Mekillot carapace is firmly held in one hand, likely as an unwieldy shield, while a large thighbone, with sinew and muscle still attached, is held on the other.

A less casual stare - a dangerous thing, in the slums, where a bad look is enough to get you killed - might reveal that much of the dust seems too firmly attached to be just a layer of grit from the desert. But few bother, as long as Karak stays out of the way. And he is more than happy to do so, as he examines this strange warren of humanity. A confusing sight, it does not match what his memories tell him a city should be.

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If a specific location is required, Karak is some two or three side streets down from the tavern's entrance. (three if they are close together, two if more far apart - say some 60 or so feet away from it).

[TheKoalaNxtDoor]

A shambling, ragged figure in a coat made with more pockets than coat shuffles out of an alley way, and brings a small, hollowed beetle shell to his lips, gulping down the last of the foul juices inside. The firey liquid burns down his throat, and he spits in the street, on the foot of a passerby. The man looks up, in anger, hand reaching for his belt, untill he looks into the smirking, menacing face of the spitter. He backs off, and the spitter hacks out a gratting cough of a laugh brought apon by smoking too much of Andropines-knows-what. Specks of alcohol fleck his bristly mane of a beard, tied off at the bottem to keep it out of the way. He wipes it away, then enters the broyhouse with one hand placed firmly on a menacing-looking handcrossbow, eager to refill his hipflask with more whisky, if you could even call it that.

[The Underlord]

A Thri-keen stands near the side of the tavern away from the other Thri-keen, leaning on what appears to be a walking staff. A more attentive looker might notice runes ethed on the staff, or that his eyes were darting around, searching for potential trouble makers.

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Perception check (1d20+9)[24]

[Emongnome777]

Elebon, Half-Elf Battlemind

Elebon takes a seat at his usual spot in Tari's Tail. His thin, wooden shield is hanging loosely from his back, barely anchored to his back by thread-bare straps. The alhulak hanging by his side is equally jagged and worn.

From a distance, he looks like a short elf; his long ears, sharp features and scrawny body would fool some, at least before they get a closer look.

Today, the same as the last several days, Elebon has been sitting alone at the bar, drinking broy. It has to be the worst tasking broy he's had (which is saying something), but he forces it down nonetheless. He's also out of money. Why did I leave the skimmer?, he asked himself, today as he does every day. Captain Merik was decent enough. Sure, sailing around the Estuary was miserable, but at least I had something to do and an income, paltry though it may be. He shook his head and motioned for another dirty glass of broy. When his funds started getting low, he could no longer afford the luxury of a clean glass.

[Ascy]

Araz, Half-Elemental Artificer

On a corner, just a short distance away from Tari's Tail, a couple of ceramic pieces clatter in a bandaged hand. A hooded person counts the revenue from his latest deal hidden in his palm and lets the coins drop into one of the many little bags inside the wraps of his cloak.

"Idiot. Four ceramic pieces for two bottles of cactus juice. And not even the distilled stuff.",
he mutters under his breath, as he watches the scrawny human depart.
This spot was very lucrative - no doubt due to its proximity to the tavern. Drunken, humiliated men tend to buy more daggers than sober ones, the half-elemental found out.
But he was not the only street vendor, and even though his competitors didn't have the quality, they had the muscle to prevent him from making too much of a profit.

Casually leaning on the sandstone wall, Araz lets his glowing eyes dart over the street, looking for trouble - or new customers.

[Ravian]

A slight wind picks up, stirring up some of the dust lining the streets. Few people think much of it, after all there are plenty of things more dangerous on Athas then a slight breeze. However few things on Athas are exactly as they appear.
Most of the inhabitants look up from what they are doing at the sound of a Crodlu galloping. Looking up they watch a legionnaire atop a finely harnessed War Crodlu gallop down the street. As the guard rushes down the street he shouts at the top of his lungs two words that halt all activity.

Silt Wind!

Immediately filter masks go on, curio stalls go down, and layabouts disperse, looking for shelter.
Few wanted to be caught out in a silt wind, even with a filter mask the wind would cause any traveler to be virtually blind, while stinging silt particles flayed any exsposed skin. For those without, death was almost guaranteed as the fine dust collects in the unfortunate's lungs, suffocating him as it mixes with his own body's water.
The Thri-Kreen bouncer goes inside and begins to seal the silt blinds on the windows to ensur the bar will remain siltless.

[Grey_Wolf_c]

Karak Grint, Discarded Golem

With the lessening of people, Karak seems to wake from his trance. His gaze, rather than being focused on the people passing immediately in front of him, starts sweeping the street as it becomes deserted. Finally he sees a familiar sight, that of a wispy creature in an overlarge coat.

With thick and fumbling fingers, Karak pulls out a filter mask and carefully puts it on. He did not breath, but he still circulated air into him to speak. He had had to face dust storms in the desert and they were still uncomfortable if they filled him up with sand - it would take days to empty. Besides, he wasn't sure this "grey death" he heard people speak of would affect him, and he wasn't about to risk it.

Once the street is mostly clear, he steps out into the street and makes his way towards Araz. 6 inches taller, twice as heavy and broad, and far more solid than the salesman, Karak tries to be as unthreatening as possible. "May you have a good day, Master Araz," he says in his slow, deep voice by ways of introduction, "I was hoping to discuss a new purchase. The mercury you found for me was of good quality. There are a few other materials I need."

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Fluff buying only; Karak has no reason to go into the tavern, but will follow Araz in if he would rather carry out the discussion inside.

[Ascy]

Araz, Half-Elemental Artificer

Since Araz wears his dust mask regularly anyways, he isn't too concerned with the frequent sand and silt storms that sweep through the streets.
As the first wave of stinging particles seems to lose it's intensity, he can make out a vaguely familiar silhouette coming out of the cloud.
When he sees the bulky shape of a previous customer moves towards him, he intuitively moves his hand under his cloak a bit closer to the hilt of his knife.
When the hulking creature starts to talk, he relaxes a little. He remembered this strange fellow, he paid well for some pretty exotic ingredients.
Such individuals sparked his interest, as they stood out from the masses of poor men buying tools of inferior quality they could hardly afford.

With a wide gesture of his arms, he greets the figure.
"Oh yes, a very good day. I'm very pleased to hear that you are content with my wares.
As i told you, i can acquire the best quality products in the region, and for a budget, no less.
But as you see, the storm is just catching it's breath, and soon i wouldn't even be able to count your coins. Heh heh heh!"
Araz looks down the street for a place that is more suited for a deal.
Anyways. Perhaps we should discuss our transaction in a place that is more.. shielded from the elements. The Tail is just a couple of feet away, we might get there before the storm grows again."
He points to a building, just a block down the road, which seems to get more crowded every second.

[Emongnome777]

Elebon, Half-Elf Battlemind

Elebon hears the wind pick up and the yells for silt wind. On cue, the workers start boarding up the windows while the people outside start scurrying inside. He asks for a refill of his broy when the bartender becomes available. He also keeps a tight grip on his coin purse. A crowded room is a haven for pick-pockets, especially elves. Those that mistake him for a short elf usually keep just outside arm's reach, which is fine by Elebon. He does turn around long enough to see who has come inside, while downing another mug of the disgusting swill. Balic, for all its flaws, is haven to quite an assortment of bizarre and unique people.

[Grey_Wolf_c]

Araz, Half-Elemental Artificer

Anyways. Perhaps we should discuss our transaction in a place that is more.. shielded from the elements. The Tail is just a couple of feet away, we might get there before the storm grows again."
He points to a building, just a block down the road, which seems to get more crowded every second.

Karak Grint, Discarded Golem

Karak turns its head to stare at the building, taking more time than you'd think such a shack would require. "That is acceptable. However, it is also dangerous. Many individuals have entered it carrying weapons. Some did not look trustworthy. After you," he ends, shifting is body to allow the smaller man passage.

[The Underlord]

Cha'Ka, Druid Thri-keen

He puts on his filter mask. He looks around to search for a shelter, Deciding the Tail was the best place, he decides to enter the building. Once inside he kindly declines to have any of there drink, knowing that he should keep alert.

[TheKoalaNxtDoor]

Hastur smirks at the poor devils caught outside in the silt. He hoped that the kreen bouncer wouldn't let anyone else in once the winds picked up. He didn't enjoy wearing a silt mask, because it interfered with his drinking, and he hoped that the bar would be closed up tight enough that he wouldn't have to wear it. Besides, it would be fun to see the people caught outside squirm. Fill this up with the meanest stuff you've got back there. he said to the bartender, handing him his hip flask, then settled down by the window to watch the fun.

[Ravian]

The Tari's Tail:
The workers finish putting up the silt blinds just in time before the wind starts picking up. Unfortunately while the heavy blinds are effective in preventing silt from getting inside, they also block most of the ventilation. This in conjunction with the heat wave and the large amount of people inside causes the tavern to quickly turn into an oven. Many people even decide to leave and try to get to their own less crowded homes, prefering to brave the silt rather than boil inside. Most however simply buckle down and order more broy, which now strangely costs 50% more than it did when the silt wind started. Most people don't notice, others simply pay the extra coin, deciding that they rather pay extra then get in a fight in this heat.

A few hours pass and the sun begins to set, but few can tell from the blinds and the silt. Suddenly a knock at the door is heard over the roar of the wind. The Thri-Kreen bouncer opens a small slot in the door to look out, before quickly unlatching the door. A large minotaur carrying several crates squeezes through the door, followed by several humans carrying smaller boxes and packs, they all wear filter masks and chitin armor, with bone-tipped spears across their backs. Two more figures come in before the door shuts behind them, both wearing filter masks and clinging to each other. They go up to the bar before removing their filter masks, revealing a tough but refined looking male human, and a female elf with silky black hair and darting green eyes. The man speaks to the bartender in a Patrician accent that marks him as nobility.
Two rooms if you will please. One for our guards and your best quality for me and my wife.
At the sound of the last word, most everyone in the tavern looks up in suprise, and a few in disapproval.

[Ascy]

"Heh. People in the slums of Balic carry weapons, color me shocked."
The hooded figure shakes his head ever so slightly, and you can hear a quiet chuckle.
"Well, i am sure that you can keep yourself safe, as can i.", he adds, and points at the big thigh bone the creature is carrying.

With that he makes his way to the tavern, wrapping his clothes tighter around him. He wasn't overly comfortable walking in front of the strange customer, but the weather didn't allow for longer discussions.
And after all, a strong drink seems like good idea.

((chronologically, that was probably before the two visitors came in, right?))

[Ravian]

((chronologically, that was probably before the two visitors came in, right?))

(( yes I apologize for posting before that dialogue was finished, we are now at the point of the visitors though))

[Grey_Wolf_c]

Karak Grint, Discarded Golem

(As we enter the bar)

"Well, i am sure that you can keep yourself safe, as can i.", he adds, and points at the big thigh bone the creature is carrying.

"Indubitably. Nevertheless, when I am attacked, people are hurt and suffer. Sometimes they stop living. That is not a desirable outcome," he says in his careful voice. "I understand it is against the law to willingly participate in the activity of causing others to cease to live. But it is unclear how one could demonstrate his unwillingness at a later time. It is thus preferable to not participate at all."

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Ascy, it is fairly common to use this form of "halved post" to continue with RP that happens chronologically before the action. If done too much - for example, if we had four segments rather than two - it can get confusing. But as long as we keep it to just two, or three tops, its a good way to both finish of the conversations and allow flexibility to the game, which PbP desperately needs. Can't have the whole group waiting because two players are having a private talk, after all.

-----ooOoo-----

(As the couple enters the bar)

Karak is still standing near Araz, having concluded their business but with no particular desire to leave, has fallen back into the passive watching of the crowd he exhibited outside. As the group comes in, he notes the weapons and people, and the crowd's reaction, but sees no correlation between them. He files the situation for later review.

[Emongnome777]

Elebon, Half-Elf Battlemind

"You want what for another mug of broy?", Elebon laments to the bartender, but to no avail. He decides to sit there and nurse the remaining swig in his mug instead of buying another at the inflated price.

He mutters to himself for several minutes until he notices the crowd look toward the front. He follows their eyes to the man and elf who just entered.

"Two rooms if you will please. One for our guards and your best quality for me and my wife."

"...my wife."

"...MY WIFE."

The statement hit him like a ton of granite. This situation was amazingly bizarre for several reasons. Why would a noble human want an elf for a wife? Why would an elf forsake her clan for a human? Why is a noble at this run-down tavern in the middle of a silt wind storm?

Elebon shouldn't care one way or the other (unless they wanted to buy him drinks), but this hit him more than he like to admit. His mother is the daughter to the chief of their elven clan. She claimed she was raped by his father, but rumors had that it was a secret tryst. If not for her standing, she would've been expelled from her clan. The clans that ran the Estuary were xenophobic, so he assumed that all elves were that way. These two brought up old memories and made him wonder if he wasn't the product of some forbidden love.

[TheKoalaNxtDoor]

Hastur's intrest was spiked when the nobleman revealed that he was married to an elf. Not that he had anything against elves. Some of his best friends were elves, not to mention business partners. Then again, being Hastur's friend or business partner didn't exactly make the person a saint.

Hastur was dissapointed that the blinds were to thick to see if anyone was suffering outside. It was hot over by the window, especial seeing that a few individuals with the same interest in watching other peoples suffering had come over, and they brought their damned body heat with them.

He desired a bit of companionship, so he went over and sat down by a short, lonely looking elf sitting alone and gawking at the nobleman.

Can you believe it? Married to an elf, and a nobleman too. Don't suppose they plan on siering any kids? Irresponsible, i call it, bringing a whelp into a world where he'd be hated.

Though it seemed uncharacteristic of a character like himself, Hastur was foned of kids. Perhaps it was why he had a couple somewhere in every part of town, and a few other towns besides. Hastur drained his flask, and motioned to a near-by bar-wench.

A round for me my friend here, babe, and make sure it's strong enough to knock a mekelot off its feet.

((In case my description of the short elf is too vague, Hastur is talking to Elebon))

[Emongnome777]

Elebon, Half-Elf Battlemind

Having finally finished the last of his broy several minutes ago, Elebon was starting to sober up. He wasn't fully drunk (he isn't stupid enough to lose his wits in this part of the city-state), but the broy took the edge off so he didn't feel as bad about his situation.

While he was pitying the married couple (and himself), a rather gaunt human sad down beside him at the bar. He glanced at him while tightening his grip on his coin pouch, but said nothing.

Can you believe it? Married to an elf, and a nobleman too. Don't suppose they plan on siering any kids? Irresponsible, i call it, bringing a whelp into a world where he'd be hated.

Initially angered at the comment, Elebon responded, "Hey, I don't think you..."

A round for me my friend here, babe, and make sure it's strong enough to knock a mekillot off its feet.

At the sound of someone buying him a drink, he clears his throat and says, "oh, uh, hey, thanks." Receiving the drink (in clean glass!), he takes a sip and almost faints. It takes him a minute to blink away the lights flashing around his eyes before he can even speak. "Wow, that's some good stuff."

Carefully setting down the glass of liquid heaven (as he's now calling it), he takes in his new 'friend'. The gaunt human looks like he isn't long for this world and the liquor that they have should kill him, but he's taking it better than Elebon is. He shouldn't have reacted badly to the human's first comment. He was right, after all.

He smiles and extends his hand to shake. "My name is Elebon. Thanks for the drink, by the way. Unfortunately, humans and elves can all too easily produce children. And a hard life it is for their progeny. But they both will suffer as a result of their union. Some may say that their sacrifice is just 'love'. Ha! It's nothing but selfishness. That noble doesn't care that his beloved will never get to see her family again nor does the elf care that her husband will probably lose his standing, possibly his inheritance. They are fools. Don't pity their children, pity them." That last part was said with more disdain than he had intended to convey, but his drink was already starting to remove a few inhibitions.

[TheKoalaNxtDoor]

Hastur reached out to accept the handshake, but stopped for a moment, wiped it off on his coat, and then shook. You sure feel strongly about it, eh? he says, downing his drink in anouther gulp, and calling for anouther. Wonder what for they got all them gaurds? Must be something plenty important too be sure. While waiting for his drink, Hastur pulls out a long pipe and a pouch filled with some crushed up powder, fills his pipe, lights it, and then inhales from deeply. He pauses to blow a pretty smoke ring, but the sight was somewhat detracted from by the hacking smoker's caugh that followed it. Want a light? Hastur says to elebon, offering him the pouch. I'm sure i've anouther pipe with me in here somewhere. My name's Hastur, by the way.

[TheKoalaNxtDoor]

((My bad, double post.))

[Emongnome777]

Elebon, Half-Elf Battlemind

Hastur reached out to accept the handshake, but stopped for a moment, wiped it off on his coat, and then shook. You sure feel strongly about it, eh? he says, downing his drink in anouther gulp, and calling for anouther. Wonder what for they got all them gaurds? Must be something plenty important too be sure.

Elebon shakes Hastur's hand then gingerly takes another sip of the strong drink, this time staving off the dancing stars enough to keep his wits about him. The warmth of the drink is not mixing well with the stagnant heat in the tavern, however.

"I can't say why he has his guards here. Is it illegal for a patrician to have an elf for a wife in Balic? It's something worth keeping an eye out for. Guards means the potential for trouble, after all."

Want a light? Hastur says to Elebon, offering him the pouch. I'm sure i've anouther pipe with me in here somewhere. My name's Hastur, by the way.

"Well met, Hastur. I think I'll pass on the pipe. One vice per day is enough for me", Elebon says, holding up his drink, still half full.

[Ravian]

Tari's Tail:
The couple proceed up to their room, followed by the minotaur carrying most of the crates and baggage. The 3 human guards instead stay at the bar, clearly exhausted from their ordeals. They order a round of Broy and quickly chug it down, caring not for price nor quality.

[Emongnome777]

Elebon, Half-Elf Battlemind

Hastur's drink was certainly having a strong effect on Elebon, because he would normally never have the audacity (or folly?) to approach the guards now seated and drinking. Or perhaps he was just desperate for work or at least something to do except drink all day.

"Excuse me", Elebon says to Hastur as he gets up and walks over to the guards.

Standing over them, he introduces himself. "Greetings. I couldn't help but notice your unusual charge. I'm sure you're exhausted. I'm not here to ask questions or stir up anything. To be honest, I wanted to offer my employment. I think I can offer a ... unique insight and value to your guardship."

[Ravian]

The Tari's Tail
The Guard glares at Elebon, distrustful of his elvish looks. He grunts at him Listen Buddy, we're not recruiting anyone so why don't you go bother someone else?
The Guard next to him younger and less experienced looking, turns to his coworker perplexed
I thought master Damacules said he was looking for mercenaries to help with the He...
The third guard cuts him off
His problem, you mean... glaring at the younger guard
Anyway it's not our job, you want some coin bring it up with Damacules. Me, I just trudged 10 miles through a Silt Wind and I'd rather try to drown the memory in Broy then talk with a bunch of ruffians.

[Emongnome777]

Elebon, Half-Elf Battlemind

Elebon listens intently to what's said (and what's not said) by the guards. He's actually surprised to hear about an offer of work. That was just a pretense to finding out more about this unique situation. Nevertheless, mercenary work was appealing right now and worth following up on. With a slight bow toward the guards, he says, "my thanks for the information. I will surely follow up on it. Damacules is the noble human? I would speak with him now, but I'm sure his attention is elsewhere. Will meeting him in the morning be appropriate?"

OOC

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Diplomacy Check to establish a friendly rapport with the guards: (1d20+10)[15]

I meant to do this in the previous post.

[Ascy]

Leaning back in his chair, Araz takes another sip of his drink.
It wasn't very good, but every bit of liquid was welcome after a storm.

He didn't care for the strange couple's relationship at all; it wasn't his cup of brew who mixed with whom, after all.
What did pique his interest however were the crates their beastly servant carried.
The man was obviously wealthy, probably a noble, which meant that he might also carry items of interest.

I should probably try to have a little chat in the morning, and..
While the half-elemental was planning out how to get a bit of a profit out of the situation, he observes a small figure walking up to the guardsmen, starting a conversation.
"Oh eat silt, i won't lose that one to a newbie.."
he curses under his breath.
He missed a couple of good deals before, because he was not quick enough - a mistake that he doesn't intend to repeat.

He chugs down the rest of the bitter beverage, stretches his shoulders, and slowly stands up.

[TheKoalaNxtDoor]

Hastur follows elebon too the guards, and listens intently to what is said. Mercenary work? Sounds like fun. I could use the coin. I'll bet it's got something to do with those boxes. Need 'um to be protected or what? Hastur sets his hands on the lid of a box, searching for an opening. What've you got in there anyhow?

[Ravian]

The third guard, closest to the boxes places himself between the boxes and Hastur, hand ready to draw his spear if necessary. Watch it, nothing interesting in there but clothing, which reminds me turning to the younger guard he motions to the boxes Jak take these to our room, I don't want anyone snooping through them. Also make sure lord and lady Damacules are comfortable, I don't want Gurz breaking anything trying to help them unpack. The young guard quickly salutes and carries the boxes upstairs, straining slightly under the weight. He turns to Elebon, but still keeps his eye on Hastur suspiciously Master Damacules may be coming down shortly, he often enjoys a quick drink before he retires. If you wish to hire yourself you may speak with him then he then sits down and returns to his drink.