[Nexus] Trog's Tavern CCXLIV

[Gnrlshrimp]

Ithuriel snorts and shifts back. "The Nexus is pretty weird, isn't it? Big guy, eh? How very...informal. I wonder if I could get away with that. Probably, considering Wolfy isn't really one for formalities at all."

"So do the four of you all serve the same god then?" she asks, walking over. They seem friendly enough, it's probably alright...

Though she'd have thought if Zahasamel knew that much, he'd probably know about the whole demon business too...

[Rebonack]

"Haha... Well. The Big Guy doesn't mind formalities either. He's quite a bit more laid back than most of the mortals give Him credit for. But that's not to say He's any less holy. Zimmy could tell you all about that, but he's busy testing the sky at the moment," Zahasamel explains.

"We are servants of the Lord of the Heavenly Host," Merkabel replies in that weird four-fold voice of his. "He is a being of the Infinite, and all that implies."

"Like His puns being infinitely groan-worthy," the angel suggests.

Ever see dozens of eyes all rolled in unison?

Now you have.

Aaaaand there's a good chance that Zahasamel knows about the demon-thing. But they aren't terribly concerned about the beings that most of the Nexus consider to be demons.

[Reinholdt]

A flaming hot human that's flickering like a bad tv reception blinks into existence, kneeling on the middle of the floor and getting blood from sliced up legs on it. Just for Cosmo no doubt. He's pretty sweaty and grimy too, so maybe not as flaming hot as usual.

"-ce... huh?" The guy looks around. This isn't where he was.

[Drakeburn]

"Weird stuff is happening and I'm not even drunk yet." Forgan grumbled.
He gets up from his seat and walks over to the human who appeared in the tavern.
"How are you doing sir?" Forgan says to the newcomer from a safe distance.

[Reinholdt]

"Quit- ribly actually." The man says, flickering heavily.

He pulls out a flask from his vest and drinks from it greedily, seemingly content with his position on the floor.

[Time for Never]

Reinholdt's already outside! Stop talking, crazy man, and get out there too!

Well... to be fair, Rein just got there from his fleeing, but that's ok. It still counts.

Deveric strides through the door and meets Reinholdt back outside. Taking out a set of keys he will beckon the cat to join him further away from the tavern.

"We wouldn't want to accidentally pull the inn along with us. Unless of course you want to bring Magma-face as well."

The chronomancer finds the key he was looking for and, holding it to the air, turns it 90 degrees. Suddenly a door materializes and slowly opens, allowing an image of his homeworld to peek through. One could see airships flying through the sky and a large continent floating in the air.

"You don't need to hold my hand or any other such silliness. Just follow me."

Deveric calmly steps through the doorway.

[Reinholdt]

"So no singing Kumbaya? But that's the best part."

The flying cat outside the tavern follows Deveric through to whichever thread Deveric's player wants the air world in.

P.S. Skies of Arcadia.
That is all.

[Gnrlshrimp]

A being of the infinite?

Ithuriel raises an eyebrow at that. Interesting...description.

"Well, I'm not quite sure what that implies, actually. Does that mean He is infinite, or...what?" Ithuriel asks, making sure to capitalise the "He". She doesn't want to go around disrespecting gods after all.

[Rebonack]

How does one capitalize something in speech, exactly?

Ah well.

Probably best not to try to figure it out.

"Unlimited in power, wisdom, and knowledge," the cherub replies. "Eternal and ineffable."

"And before you object, no. None of that can be proven," Zahasamel interjects. "It isn't possible for any finite being to tell the difference between someone who is truly infinite and someone who's just absurdly powerful. We have only the Big Guy's word on that. That's what lead to the split between the Heavenly Host and the Fallen as it so happens."

"Hailel did not believe that the Lord of the Host is who He claims to be. But instead surmised that His power is something that can be attained if only one learns its secrets. A third of the Host followed him in his foolishness," Merkabel explains.

[Gnrlshrimp]

"...uhuh." Ithuriel's really not sure what to say to all that.

So they maybe serve the Big Guy who gets to use a capital G instead of a lower-case one. Maybe.

But they can't be sure.

And that led to a third of them splitting off...

"Well I suppose there's no one better to serve. Probably."

[Rebonack]

"Most people are less skeptical once they've actually met the Big Guy," Zahasamel laughs. "He's something else, let me tell you. 'course this place is neutral ground and all that implies. Dimensional crossroads and all that."

Which means...?

"Thus it is not up to us to impose. The Lord of the Host has few followers here. The mortals always have preferred the gods of debauchery after all," Merkabel continues.

And how!

"Easy pleasure is almost always preferred. Mortals have a real penchant for getting fixated in the here and now. But I guess that's just because they have such a tentative grasp on the Spiritual. Hard to blame them, really," the angel concludes.

[Slii Arhem]

Spoiler

Show

> Explain to the osprey that as a higher life form, you aren't bound by such petty rules of society. Screw the rules, you're a wizard.

> Become drunk

Wait, what? Since when was Sandy a wizard? Ah well, I suppose there's no time like the present to develop some suitably impressive wizardly powers to demonstrate.

"Shoe the fools! I'm a blizzard!" Sandy stammers drunkenly, shuffling off his stool and swinging his beard around like a mighty fist of molten stone. Oh, hey, it is a fist of molten stone. How lovely! Looks like he is a wizard after all, or perhaps he just has some inborn elemental manipulation talent to go with that stunning beardfist of his.

He slams the palm of his stony fistbeard onto the top of a nearby table, breaking a mug and causing the tabletop to burst into flame on contact, "More booze! So I might brink until I am dunk!"

[FireFox]

"I'm only half - human, and Zee definitely isn't human. Probably not entirely." Forgan whispered to himself as he sat down with his meal.
Observing the elf with the revolver, he noticed that her eyes were focused on some dwarf.
"Excuse me miss, are you ok?" Forgan asked with concern as he tapped the elf's shoulder as gently as he could.

Spoiler

Show

> Explain to the osprey that as a higher life form, you aren't bound by such petty rules of society. Screw the rules, you're a wizard.

> Become drunk

Wait, what? Since when was Sandy a wizard? Ah well, I suppose there's no time like the present to develop some suitably impressive wizardly powers to demonstrate.

"Shoe the fools! I'm a blizzard!" Sandy stammers drunkenly, shuffling off his stool and swinging his beard around like a mighty fist of molten stone. Oh, hey, it is a fist of molten stone. How lovely! Looks like he is a wizard after all, or perhaps he just has some inborn elemental manipulation talent to go with that stunning beardfist of his.

He slams the palm of his stony fistbeard onto the top of a nearby table, breaking a mug and causing the tabletop to burst into flame on contact, "More booze! So I might brink until I am dunk!"

He's certainly damaging things, but he doesn't look like he's going to hurt her, so the elf puts her revolver back in her cross draw holster. Then she turns and smiles at Forgan. Yes, I am perfectly fine. Well, as fine as I can be without knowing where I am or what is going on. She has violet eyes with catlike pupils and the same color hair.

[Murkus]

Clegg turns to face Sticks and nods slowly. Well, me friend. Ten years ago, a pirate by the name of Quent raided the lands around the Nexus. He traveled through time, and space...robbing people across the ages! Pillaging, sinking other ships, collecting gold and treasure from every age! They say, that on his ship...Th' Crone's Claw, stored below deck is so much treasure, it would be enough to make ten men's bloodline's rich for eternity! Legend says, he visits the Nexus last....just West of Outside, by the sea, and by Shimmerfist Rock, the massive ship went down...No one knows why, there was nothing but some wreckage floating around...and a barrel...full of gold! I was one of the original people to find flotsam floating about. See? He then pulls a sack of gold out of his coat. He plops it on the table, and takes out a shimmering gold coin, ancient gold. I want t' go find i' again. And delve into the shipwreck!

"And... I take it you want me to come along?" Sticks looks nervous. And giddy. He'd never... there'd never been a take like this on his adventures. The old sailor knows how to sell his jobs."How do you intend to reach the shipwreck? A submarine?"

[Drakeburn]

He's certainly damaging things, but he doesn't look like he's going to hurt her, so the elf puts her revolver back in her cross draw holster. Then she turns and smiles at Forgan. Yes, I am perfectly fine. Well, as fine as I can be without knowing where I am or what is going on. She has violet eyes with catlike pupils and the same color hair.

"Don't know where you are or what's going on?" Forgan asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You're in Trog's Tavern, and my name is Forgan by the way. An off duty half - giant mercenary." Forgan said as he drank down the rest of his drink.
Some dwarven ale would be nice right now...... He thought to himself.

[Time for Never]

Spoiler

Show

> Explain to the osprey that as a higher life form, you aren't bound by such petty rules of society. Screw the rules, you're a wizard.

> Become drunk

Wait, what? Since when was Sandy a wizard? Ah well, I suppose there's no time like the present to develop some suitably impressive wizardly powers to demonstrate.

"Shoe the fools! I'm a blizzard!" Sandy stammers drunkenly, shuffling off his stool and swinging his beard around like a mighty fist of molten stone. Oh, hey, it is a fist of molten stone. How lovely! Looks like he is a wizard after all, or perhaps he just has some inborn elemental manipulation talent to go with that stunning beardfist of his.

He slams the palm of his stony fistbeard onto the top of a nearby table, breaking a mug and causing the tabletop to burst into flame on contact, "More booze! So I might brink until I am dunk!"

"You have a real tendency to cause unnecessary mayhem and destruction, magma-face. I like that in a person. It shows character."

The Osprey will fly back down to the bar and order an Oni tea while avoiding the flaming destruction personified.

"So what is it that you do exactly, you deranged flaming psycho? Also, what do you mean by that you're a blizzard?"

[Hattish Thing]

"And... I take it you want me to come along?" Sticks looks nervous. And giddy. He'd never... there'd never been a take like this on his adventures. The old sailor knows how to sell his jobs."How do you intend to reach the shipwreck? A submarine?"

Captain Clegg Thenardier grins, showing his rotted teeth. Though several of them are sharpened to needles and a few are gold. He doesn't seem to breathe when he speaks. Yes, I think ye'd do fine, along wit' some NO mercenaries, though findin' a group willin' t' do such a thing seems t' be rather 'ard fer Mr. Dipsnig. I'd like t' take ye with us, an' perhaps some more adventurer's 'ere shoul' Dispsnig no' be able t' find anyone. He smiles, and tries to place a hand on Sticks shoulder. Hiss skin is clammy, moist....and....there seems to be barnacles growing under his coat. Well...I can breathe underwater easily...but fer th' rest 'o' th' expedition members, we'll need a wizard.

[Murkus]

"I'm... I'm a wizard," Sticks says, a little more uncomfortable when the dead man places a hand on his shoulder. The merchant can't really say why - they're all dead men here. Maybe it's the smell, or the hand, or the barnacles. "I may be able to concoct something for your purposes."

[Gnrlshrimp]

"Well, if nothing else it sounds like serving Him is very rewarding for you all." How skeptical is Ithuriel? Eh, not very. Who is she to question the validity of a god's claims?

If He was trying to stamp his authority over everything, that'd be a different matter, but there doesn't seem to be any danger of that.

"You are right of course. Had I not essentially been forced to pay attention to spiritual matters in my life, or, unlife, as it was...I would have been the same as most other mortals."

[Drakeburn]

"Alright, take care of yourself now." Frogan told the elf with a friendly smile as he slid a couple of his own golden coins to her, and placed a couple at his place as he stood up to leave.
But he only took a few steps before overhearing a conversation about an expedition.
"Excuse me," Forgan interrupted, sitting down with the group.
"I couldn't help but to notice that you're talking about gathering a expedition party. And I might be of some assistance to you."

[Rebonack]

SUDDENLY!

A wizened old man in a yellow robe totters into the tavern, leaning heavily on his knobbly staff. As he shuffles across the tavern floor to his usual corner plot hooks jiggle and dance upon the hems of his garment.

His nose is humorously large and his eyebrows so shaggy and droopy that they fully merge with his absurdly long mustache. He plops himself down onto a chair, raps his staff thrice upon the floor, and lights up a sign nearby.

The Mysterious Old Sage is:
IN

Well.

Looks like the quest-dispensing old man is here to ramble incoherently at some adventurers again.

MEANWHILE!

"Oof, yeah. Can imagine," the angel replies with a nod. And then notices that the cherub is gone. As is the chacidah. Most have headed home since their breaks were drawing to a close. Thankfully angels have a bit more lenient scheduling. So long as they don't need to deliver a message at that exact moment it doesn't matter too much where they are. "So how do you like this Wolfy guy?" Zahasamel asks conversationally.

[Gnrlshrimp]

"How do I like him? Well, he's...not a typical god, I guess, but I don't think I'm really suited to serving most gods. I shouldn't really be an angel after all."

Can Zahasamel guess why?

Well, he prolly knows why, doesn't he?

"Wolfy helped me find a way to do something of use as an angel instead of just constantly guilting myself for not being good enough."

[Rebonack]

"Now see, here's where things diverge," Zahasamel replies, holding his hands together and then parting them. "I would agree that you wouldn't make a good Malakim. We were created by the Big Guy the way we are. Not uplifted from mortal races the way so many of the gods around here do things. But if you're just to be a messenger to a god?"

He shrugs.

"Anyone can do that. And if you've got a nasty background you can say to those wicked folks, 'Hey look at what was possible for me. You can be redeemed too.' That sort of thing turns heads in a way quite different from anything I can pull off."

Yay for encouragement?

Encouragement is always nice.

[Gnrlshrimp]

"Yeah, but...that's the problem. I was an experiment. An attempt by a god to turn a vampire into something good. He undeniably failed. There were multiple occasions where my vampyric nature got the better of me. I turned into a demon and ate people." Ithuriel sighs and drains the rest of her drink, ordering another.

She never really liked talking about this, but...oh well.

"I was meant to be an example, you know? I was made an angel because to do otherwise would be admitting he failed. So saying that others can be redeemed too sounds hollow, coming from me."

And a messenger never attracts much attention. No way would she have been allowed to avoid drawing attention.

[Rebonack]

"And yet you still did pretty darn good considering the situation you were put in. See, here's now the Big Guy works. You've been leading an evil life? But then you set that aside because you realize that it's wrong and devote yourself to good?" Zahasamel makes a sweeping motion with one hand. "All that evil doesn't matter one bit. It happened, sure. And you've still got to live with the consequences of it. But in His book it's the effort that really counts."

Then angel then rises to leave.

"Anyway. I've got to go deliver a message of Thanksmas cheer here pretty soon. My friends and I will be back here again next week. See you around!"

Zahasamel will wait for a reply before vanishing.

Poof!

[Gnrlshrimp]

"Yeah...see you." She waves as he leaves

Ithuriel sighs and picks up her drink as it arrives.

"Did I ever really realise it's wrong, though?" She quietly mutters to herself once he's gone.

[Aric Kale]

Captain Clegg Thenardier grins, showing his rotted teeth. Though several of them are sharpened to needles and a few are gold. He doesn't seem to breathe when he speaks. Yes, I think ye'd do fine, along wit' some NO mercenaries, though findin' a group willin' t' do such a thing seems t' be rather 'ard fer Mr. Dipsnig. I'd like t' take ye with us, an' perhaps some more adventurer's 'ere shoul' Dispsnig no' be able t' find anyone. He smiles, and tries to place a hand on Sticks shoulder. Hiss skin is clammy, moist....and....there seems to be barnacles growing under his coat. Well...I can breathe underwater easily...but fer th' rest 'o' th' expedition members, we'll need a wizard.

Zane stepped out from the shadows he had been hiding in and approached Thenardier. Well, I'm no wizard, but I'd like to be a member of your party. If I heard correctly, you're looking for the Crone's Claw, true?

[Hattish Thing]

Zane stepped out from the shadows he had been hiding in and approached Thenardier. Well, I'm no wizard, but I'd like to be a member of your party. If I heard correctly, you're looking for the Crone's Claw, true?

Thenardier nods, and removes the barnacled, and cold hand from Sticks shoulder. Eh? 'O' course me boy...Welcome aboard the expedition to Crone's Claw! I 'ope ye can survive bein' underwater? He growls some more!

"I'm... I'm a wizard," Sticks says, a little more uncomfortable when the dead man places a hand on his shoulder. The merchant can't really say why - they're all dead men here. Maybe it's the smell, or the hand, or the barnacles. "I may be able to concoct something for your purposes."

Thenardier smiles, exposing little sea creatures in his teeth, and barnacles in his mouth. Perfect then, WE 'ave a wizerd. Somethin' tha' allows our crew t' breathe underwater. I don't need one.

[Aric Kale]

Thenardier nods, and removes the barnacled, and cold hand from Sticks shoulder. Eh? 'O' course me boy...Welcome aboard the expedition to Crone's Claw! I 'ope ye can survive bein' underwater? He growls some more!

Zane nods. Aye, I can take the watery depths as long as I can breathe. Oh, how do you feel about fire? As he makes this last remark, a small, black flame appears in Zane's upheld palm.

[Murkus]

"So I gathered," Sticks says, choking down his revulsion in favor of keeping his manners. His mind sets to work coming up with a method of breathing underwater. The shard of a sea-priest's soul, perhaps? Her blessing might shelter them from the ocean's perils.