[Nexus] Trog's Tavern CCXLVIII

[Hyperbolic sine]

The door of the tavern closes noisily, as the newcomer heads towards an empty table. He limps from the right leg noticeably, and uses his umbrella to aid himself walking. He sits as to be able to see as much people as possible, then he politely calls a waitress and orders a cup of tea.

“We have only Oni Tea…is that ok?”

“That will be perfectly fine, Miss, thank you.”

His voice is deep and calm, and while waiting for his tea to arrive he starts looking at the customers, as if he was studying them. Should someone make eye contact and/or approach him, the following would happen:

Spoiler:

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Gesturing with his hand, the newcomer telekinetically moves one (or more) of his table's chairs as to invite to sit down there:

“Please, have a seat. Do you mind if I offer you a drink? I need to ask a few questions.”

Spoiler: If the offer is accepted

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He calls the waitress again, and while she arrives he introduces himself:

“My name is Boldwin. Alistair Boldwin. What can I offer you?”

Spoiler: If the offer is refused

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“As you wish…I apologize for disturbing you.”

He then proceeds to search another “target”.

((Expanded character description in the character registry…link in the signature.
P.S. I am new here, if I make some mistake tell me.))

[Hattish Thing]

A figure walks slowly and surely into Trog's. He's wearing some sort of black cloak, covering his arms and most of his chest, with a hood covering his head. Not much about him seems out of the ordinary, although a few bulges at his back reveal that some sort of something is harnessed at his back. He's dressed like a basic adventurer. Nothing really unique about him. He'll move to a table near the door and wait. I wonder what he's waiting for.

[Aric Kale]

The Mourning Hoplite steps through the doorway, his armor painted black and his shield bearing the weeping owl. He looks around as if expecting someone before taking a seat at the bar.
He doesn't order anything just yet, nor does he remove his helmet. If anyone looks through the gaps revealing his eyes and mouth, they'll only see black face paint, which only covers that which is not concealed by armor.
Oh, Hawthorn trundles in after him, the little wooden golem stained with a rusty brownish red. Anyone with an acute sense of smell will instantly recognize the scent of blood.

[Ionbound]

Noelle is sitting at the bar, sipping an Ichor Liquor, and not noticing the Hoplite and Shoyler.

[Recaiden]

"How is it going, Noelle?"
Ashna stands behind the bar as usual, polishing a recoilless rifle with a gun cloth, rather than the usual glass. Her nose twitches when Hawthorn enters, and she turns to look at the golem, and then at all the newcomers. The staff can also read the wall.
"Welcome to Trog's."

[Deathkeeper]

Arty enters the tavern. He doesn't really have a last name to make that more specific. He's his usual self, one male centaur seemingly about eighteen, lithe in build for both parts of his body. His hair is the same color brown on both halves as well, although that on his head is the kind that even when cut to reasonably short lengths it doesn't quite ever sit neatly. He's wearing a very plain shirt and a few bags at his waist.
The lad will be going up to the bar, in an effort to find the person who answered his Wall post.

[Recaiden]

The lady at the bar waves him over. She has for the moment set aside the rifle, after loading in a shell, and pushes over a tuft of white fur in a plastic tie.
"So what is it that you need these for, both wolf and pony?"

[Deathkeeper]

If allowed Arty takes a little plastic bag out of a pocket and drops the little bundle into it.
"I'm on an errand. I owed someone a favor, so I was tasked with completing a scavenger hunt he was supposed to finish. I only needed two more things, so now I just need the mane sample. Or A vampire's hair, which was also on the list, but at the time it seemed unwise to wade into the subject with the Wall occupied with arguments."

[Recaiden]

Arty is allowed to do so.
"I'm not sure, never having been in one, but I heard about one...doesn't this seem against the spirit of the scavenger hunt?"

[Deathkeeper]

Arty shrugs.
"That's just my term for it. In reality it was more along the lines of 'weird collector god wants these things. Get a few of them.' There was no more reason given, save that he finds some value in the objects he asked for that most people can't comprehend."

[Recaiden]

Ashna nods to that.
"Well, there are a lot of inexplicable things around here. You mentioned some compensation. Anything interesting?"

[Deathkeeper]

Arty looks a bit embarrassed.
"Well, I'm rather low on money to put it bluntly, but I do have funds set aside for purposes like this. If you don't want pay I can do a few minor healing tricks, if you've any cuts or scars that could use vanishing. And an old-fashioned helmet that I was going to sell but was saving for a while because it looked neat."

[Recaiden]

Ashna smirks. "I'd take the helmet; I have enough money and can already heal myself." It's true; there's not a scratch or scar on her.
"Hope it's worth completing your favor."

[Deathkeeper]

Arty looks a little sad but nonetheless pulls out a human-sized open helm. It's exquisitely made, a work of a master smith. It's about as good as one can expect from a mundane item of this kind, although it is a bit heavy. Its reddish crest is likely from an equine of some kind.
"Here you are, then. You can call me Arty, by the way. Thanks for your help."

[Recaiden]

The bartender reaches out and fits the helmet onto her head, nodding in appreciation.
"Sure thing, kid. I'm called Ashna. And here, have a bit of vampire hair, to finish up your favor."
She draw a locket out her robe and removes a single long pale hair, which she holds out to him.

[Deathkeeper]

Arty starts in surprise.
"Oh. Uh, thank you very much, Ashna." he says, almost numbly sticking the strand of hair into another tiny plastic bag. He hadn't expected that at all!
The centaur looks around for a moment.
"He said I wouldn't have to do anything once I got everything. I wonder what happens now?"

[Zefir]

"I didn't even know that Outside had speed limits," Leo says with a slight chuckle. He also finds Mr. C's compactor analogy hilarious. "But you're right, we don't need to break the speed of sound or anything. Hmmm...Maybe it can make a custom space for a little seat up front or something? I'll have to ask later."

Eventually, Leo takes a look around the tavern and takes in some of the faces of the PCs there. "We should probably start asking around about your friend, or we might never make any progress," he jokes light-heartedly. "Let's start with the barkeep, shall we? They usually remember the people they serve, right?"

"Speed Limit? I never mentioned anything about that. "Mr C looks back confused.

"Well, That may be right, but that would assume he came here while I didn't saw him." C replies blinking back on Leo so they can go.

((Best if I play the barkeeper?))

"This is shiftspice tea," Iamar says. "The herb itself is new to me, but its taste changes when ingested. It makes for an oddly enjoyable beverage. Sweet one sip, spicy the next," she continues. Something like this would've never been around in her home world.

"That sounds strange. And in some way intressting. Someone who likes suprises might find this drink very entertaining. I assume the tea never tastes ba in it's much to sweet/bitter way?" Zefir asks. He is very curious about it, since he drinks much tea as well.

[Recaiden]

"Now you wait for whatever it was that wanted these. Want a drink while you're here?" Ashna nods and puts away the locket, before looking back arouns the room.

((Zefir, I generally play the bartender here, but if you need them to provide exposition that you'd rather not send in OoC, go ahead and play a watcher-as-bartender.))

[Hyperbolic sine]

Seeing as the passive approach doesn't seem to work well here, Alistair - once finished sipping his tea - decides to try another method. After getting up from the chair, he approaches the bartender and the centaur, having overheard them talking about something that sounded like "errand". Unfortunately, he couldn't hear the rest, so he doesn't know that the task has already been completed.

"Mr. centaur...Miss..." he begins, politely nodding towards them, "Sorry to interrupt, I could not help but overhear you conversing about a certain errand. Incidentally, I happen to be looking for work...may I be of any assistance?"

[Shadowcaller]

An elegantly dressed drow woman (as seen in my link below) enters trog's for the first time in months. Usually Dena went to the BDD but one needed to switch things up sometimes and trog's looked far popular right now than BDD was. Some dude with horns, a centaur, a... dryad? Whatever, it was filled with people and for once she couldn't see a single drow. Excellent odds.

And there was yet another familiar face and one of Watchtower's leaders no less. Might be worth a word or two before she hit the flesh market. Assuming Wenomir is finished with the fish golem she walks up to his table. "May I have a seat? We're already half an adventure party..." She grins at the warrior.

[Morty]

Wenomir turns around to look at Dena. After dealing with the ridiculous fish golem, he's considered calling it quits for today. Fighting fish isn't quite as humiliating as what that wolf-godling put him through, but it's pathetic enough.

"Hello. Are you looking for adventure too? And don't I know you from somewhere?"

[Shadowcaller]

"Perhaps you'd recognize me in a tighter attire, or perhaps I'm not as memorable as I'd like." She sits down at the table and looks over the Watch leader. "The names Dena and I'm a rogue, we met at Watchtower remember?" She points at the warrior. "I already know your name though, Wenomir. Warrior adventure dude am I right?"

[Morty]

"Ah, yes, I remember. You challenged me to a duel," Wenomir says, nodding. "I am a warrior, for all the good that does me, and I'm here looking for adventure. I need to contribute to Watchtower's budget somehow."

[Shadowcaller]

The drow smiles bemusedly. "Really? I assumed all the leaders were pretty well off. Guess that comes with doing everything for free huh? Perhaps you should start work part time for MERC, we'd find you an adventure in no time. I have scouted off some pretty large dungeons and other for our members to loot if you're interested."

[Morty]

"DC and Cessie are really rich. KR and I, not really," Wenomir says. "I have no interest in a MERC license, though. I've been a lot of things, but not a mercenary"

[Shadowcaller]

"So being an adventurer is different from being a mercenary now?" Dena chuckles, meeting Wenomir's gaze as if to challenge that claim. "I pretty much saw them as synonymous, besides, it's not like you have to do any real mercenary work. Just pay a small fee and I'll point out where you can find loot. That's it. Could even help you get the loot, we'd split of course but I'm more than worth the share."

[Hattish Thing]

Shoyler notices the presence of Hoplite, and nods quietly from beneath his hood. Time to just sit and listen, and makes sure everything's going according to plan. This was a fairly dangerous idea. But, most things were dangerous in his line of work. Plus, he could pick up a member should he find someone interesting here. He was always looking for possible hunters to join. So, the man in the black cloak kicks back and crosses his arms, feigning rest as he listens closely to Noelle.

[Morty]

Wenomir tilts his head.

"You know, I might actually take you up on it. Adventuring is just about the only way I can contribute to Watch's finances, and it's not like I'm terribly useful at the best of times." He really isn't in a very good mood right now, is he. "My search lately only got me attacked by that fish golem and 'recruited' by a deity whose only goal was to humiliate me and the other two people it drafted. Hardly inspiring results."

[Arkhosia]

*CRASH!*
Wenomir and Dena may be surprised to see Sophia crash back-first through a window and land on their table, possibly knocking it down to face the window when she hits it!
Goddamnit!
Sophia utters, standing up and brushing glass off her jacket, numerous shallow cuts on her face and arms healing slowly, with small amounts of steam pouring from them as they do.

[Aric Kale]

The Hoplite makes eye contact with Shoyler, subtly nodding his understanding. When Sophia comes crashing through his back straightens up and he looks around, his hand instantly on the hilt of his steel blade...
When no immediate threat presents itself, he simply orders a bowl of woodland stew, with extra garlic.