[Nexus] Trog's Tavern CCXLV

[5a Violista]

"Yeah? That would be great," she says, with a smile, under her mask.

Well, at least you can hear the smile. And see part of it, 'cause the mask doesn't cover the whole face.

"It might be haunted, though," Harley adds, "so if you need to get anything before we go there, now would be the time to do it." She stands up.

[ThePhantom]

"Well, I'll need to get this whip blessed first. Wouldn't do much against ghosts otherwises."

Albert stands up, and looks at a pamlet which shows a small map of the area around Trog's.

"I think I can get that done in about an hour, so perhaps we could met up outside the tavern after that length of time?"

[Devixer]

Talk of exploring castles piques Shark's curiosity, and he listens in on that conversation to see if there'd be an opportunity for him.

[5a Violista]

Harley nods. "Okay, see you then."

...
Harley doesn't have any blessed objects anymore. She does have this necklace, though. She also has a sword and two scabbards. Close enough, right?

Oh, wait. Maybe one of those scabbards could count as blessed.

Harley notices that someone else got interested. She (she-who-is-wearing-a-mask) turns towards Shark. "Have you any experience with haunted castles, too?" she asks, inviting Shark to come along as well.

((So, where should the next post be at? The Castle will be Outside.))

[Devixer]

Shark shrugs. "Never been. Dealt with ghosts before, though."

[ThePhantom]

"Thank you, I'll be back as soon as its done."

Albert walks out the door to look for the church he saw on the map.

(Well, I think the next post from Albert would likely be either in this thread or inside, whichever one you prefer.)

[5a Violista]

((Let's have the meeting-post be in this thread, because there's less chance of losing the post.(Will you, Phantom, do some RPing to get the blessed whip between now and then, or will that all be done offscreen?)))

"Hm," says Harley, stroking her chin. Man, she wishes she had a beard. Then she could stroke that thing all day long.

"Well, I don't particularly like ghosts. If you want to join us, it'd be helpful."

[Devixer]

"Depends," Shark says, placing his reassembled rifle on the floor, leaning it on his backpack. "Would it be worth my while?"

[ThePhantom]

(Okay, and I'll be doing it off screen. Let me know when its Albert's cue to come back? )

[5a Violista]

"That would depend on what you think is 'worth your while'," counters Harley. "I always think that exploring haunted places are worth my while. A ghostbuster probably would think it worth his while too, as would a treasure-hunter. Maybe even a librarian, too."

"But - some people wouldn't think it's worth their while. Like that lady who sells chocolates on the street corners. For her, being worth her while means something completely unintelligible." So, all in all, it depends on what's worth his while.

[Devixer]

"Treasure sounds right up my lane," Shark says. "I do need some money for however long I'm stuck here."

[5a Violista]

Harley nods. Some people like treasure. There could be some haunted candlesticks in there. Or maybe some other stuff, like some tarnished plates or old books or just plain regular treasure. Castles always have treasure, right?

"So, if you need to get anything, go get it now and come back in about an hour."

Roughly an hour later...

((That's the cue!))

Harley is waiting for the group to come back together.

((Although, I'll have to be offline soon. I'll just get that post up in Outside.))

[ThePhantom]

Albert walks back to the tavern, a strange look on his face, through it brightens to a smile when he spots Harley.

"Well, I got the whip blessed. Through I'm not used to seeing the local bishop having a tail and cat ears."

[Devixer]

Shark never left. What was he going to get without any money to speak of?

He shrugs at Albert describing the bishop. "Well, this place is different, least from what I heard." And he's talked to an actual cat before, so this isn't too surprising.

[5a Violista]

"It's even weirder when they have a lizard tail and cat ears," suggests Harley.

Harley takes a deep breath. "So, the castle is this way."
She leads them to the Outside Thread.

I might have time for one more post, too.

[The Bushranger]

[Tavern Basement]

The Dust Bunnies!
Clearly they're the militiant wing of the Plushie Flock.

BR, freshly de-spiked and feeling a bit tender peers in.
Double-takes.
Then sighs.

"...this is exactly the sort of thing Avatar would set up," he mutters.
Even as he steps into the room, and makes shooing motions with his hands.

"Alright boys. Break time. Shoo. Go dunk yourselves in coffee, party's over. Don't make me get the Dustbuster™."

Yes, he even says the ™!

[happyturtle]

Gus grew a stache. And a beard.

And he's wandering into Trog's for a drink. Yay Trog's!

[McBish]

It has been awhile since Yuki has been at Trog's. But it is one of the few landmarks around that she can recgonize and find her way to. So on one of her small trips from GLoG, the white winged woman wanders into the tavern heading to the bar to take a seat.

[Rebonack]

[Tavern Basement]

The Dust Bunnies do not disperse!

And they don't seem to be controlled from elsewhere.

Should BR get too close they'll stab at him with their toothpick spears!

Rawr!

Fearsome!

They aren't holograms. Or illusions of any kind. Just really grumpy masses of hair, dust, and other such nonsense. And they don't seem at all happy with this thwarting of whatever their plans are!

[LOTRfan]

Gus grew a stache. And a beard.

And he's wandering into Trog's for a drink. Yay Trog's!

A short man with light brown hair (which seems to have darker streaks of brown within it, as well) gazes up at the bearded man as he walks in. He rubs the side of his long nose quickly as he silently watches the man go to get his drink. The woman who also walks in steals his interest for a moment -it's the wings, it seems- before turning back to the man. ""Hey, buddy. Do you have a copper I could borrow, by any chance?"

[The Alexandrian]

"That would depend upon the lyrics. I'm not willing to sing something excessively lewd in public. Unless it's so ridiculously over the top that nobody can take it seriously." Charynrae is mainly trying to avoid swearing, as she dislikes bad language.

"Uh..."

Sylvia concentrates on the empty air in front of her for a full second. Oh! Darnit, Sylvia knew that she was forgetting something! Whoops! Well, that's a bummer!

"Come to think of it, none of the drinking sssongsss I know of are in thisss language and they don't exactly transsslate well..."

Sylvia innocently and awkwardly rubs the back of her head. That's part of the truth, anyway.

"Dwarf namesss are a mouthful even in their own language. The rhythmsss don't work if everything elssse isss transsslated. That and the onesss that my people sssing aren't exactly..."

"You've heard of sssnake charming, right? Certain musssic has that sssame kind of effect on usss, but other musssic can put usss into trance-like ssstatesss where we need to do sssomething. There are sssongsss of hunting and sssongsss of dueling and sssongsss of war and sssongsss of, uh, other thingsss. Drinking usssually went hand in hand with fighting among my people, ssso there wasss alwaysss a dueling pit built into the middle of our bar where we'd ssspar to the firssst blood. All of our drinking sssongsss were like that. When I'd sssing thossse sssongsss, even the dwarvesss reacted. Sssinging them here might not be the bessst idea."

[Darkcomet]

[Tavern Basement]

"I'm afraid I did not bring a vacuum. Or...wait." N'alae turns and, almost hesitantly, picks up the HAT that has been dragged along by holodeck shenanigans, now that it's not likely to be covered by anything.

"I could just...stick them in the hat."

[Earl of Purple]

"Oh really now? I think you might have to teach me some of those... Other... songs. But there's not many snakes to charm underground; they're naturally coldblooded, and don't work well without heat. There's some near magma lakes or volcanic vents, though, but those places are dangerous for reasons besides the snakes- Volcano Dragons, wild Fire Elementals, stray Thoqqua, super-heated geysers and the presences of molten rock. Although they do drive off the Earth Elementals, those aren't really a threat except when they decide they don't like the tunnel you're in." Charynrae has a sly smile upon her face with the second sentence, though towards the end of her speech it fades into seriousness.

[Devixer]

Iamar, after a lot of work at Remnant, has decided to go to Trog's - not to drink, but to try and meet people. This will probably be compounded by her face being obscured by the white hood she wears, the armor worn over her robes, and the several weapons she carries - most prominent among them being a two swords, long and short, several throwing knives strapped to her waist, and a crossbow strapped over her shoulder.

She walks up to the bar and peruses the menu, looking for something without alcohol.

[Slii Arhem]

Iamar, after a lot of work at Remnant, has decided to go to Trog's - not to drink, but to try and meet people. This will probably be compounded by her face being obscured by the white hood she wears, the armor worn over her robes, and the several weapons she carries - most prominent among them being a two swords, long and short, several throwing knives strapped to her waist, and a crossbow strapped over her shoulder.

She walks up to the bar and peruses the menu, looking for something without alcohol.

As if sensing an opportunity to sponge off of the clearly more fortunate, a dark-skinned woman clad in faded shalls over a fur dress swoops down on Iamar, shuffling a thin deck of large cards with one hand and shakingly clenching the other tightly against her breast.

"Pity ma'am, have a pity? An alm for an ailing heart and a mis'rable woman it is, to see pity from a young lass like you. Tell your fortune I will, tell you what it is and it what you are for only an ale to cure the bone ache, yes?" Her voice rasps against the ear like a file on the thin edge of a knife, her weathered face crinkling up in a leathery mockery of a smile.

[Devixer]

Iamar looks down on the old woman. Though the upper part of her face is obscured, it should be easy to tell that she is Middle Eastern in appearance. Iamar knows of these sorts of people from her homeland, such soothsayers are usually frauds. But in the Nexus, she supposed anything was possible.

She grabs a few silver coins from a pouch on her belt. Placing them on the table, she says, "An ale for this woman, and a Darknight Coffee for myself." The woman can probably see now that Iamar's left hand is missing a ring finger.

[Slii Arhem]

The woman smiles a jagged-edged smile as she sits opposite Iamar, still shifting around her cards with crooked fingers as she makes herself comfortable.

"What's your fancy mum, bones or cards, clubs or daggers where one cuts deep and the other only shows you the stars that twinkle merrily for you and dis'ract you from the truth!" She lets forth a cackle as she waves a hand, four dice carved from weather horn or bone clenched between her fingers as the other hand fans out the cards, offering Iamar the choice visually as well.

[Devixer]

Iamar has seen bones being thrown before, but tarot (ar least, I assume it's tarot) is new ro her. "Show me the cards," she says, while listening for anything else approaching her.

[The Bushranger]

[Tavern Basement]

"I'm afraid I did not bring a vacuum. Or...wait." N'alae turns and, almost hesitantly, picks up the HAT that has been dragged along by holodeck shenanigans, now that it's not likely to be covered by anything.

"I could just...stick them in the hat."

BR eyes the toothpick-wielding horde.

Eyes N'alae's hat.

Then takes a deep breath.

He has been waiting for this moment.

He knows what must be done.

And he strikes a dramatic pose...

""

[Darkcomet]

[Tavern Basement]

Staring.

Silent staring. Staring with the intensity of someone who has realized they're working with a lunatic.

Finally, N'alae just sighs. "Just...summon a vacuum, would you? Preferably one capable of withstanding an internal assault of toothpicks."