[Nexus] Yet Another Tavern (and perhaps more)

[Greenflame]

Yet Another Tavern: Another Tavern in Nexus, albeit unnamed and rather unimposing. Located on the frayed ends of the Nexus, where the insane is less "in" and more sane. It is a little place that is somewhere between the Outside and the Inside, not quite Trog's, not like the Den, but something between. But not so different that it is strange.

Currently: Members are meeting and introducing each other.

___

The bright sun gleamed down out of an endless azure sky, illuminating the streets where the young swordsman was seated. The sun was warm and the sidewalk tables were busy with a lively crowd of people enjoying the weather of spring. Taverns and smithies, alchemy shops and brothers all lined the streets, while luminescent windowpanes stood open to the avenue giving insight to the wonders inside. In front of the tavern sat our young man, nonchalantly sipping on a mug of ale, studiously engrossed in the spell book in his other hand. His arms lay rested on the table as he became lost, his glistening emerald eyes staring as if unraveling the very mysteries of the book from a mere glance. A heavy red great cloak lie on his body, decorated with gold embroideries, and the great hood sheltered his head from the burning sun.

Aramil rotated the mug in his hand, causing the remnants of the brackish liquid to dance among the bottom before he finished the rest in a single mouthful. Placing the mug down, while simultaneously tossing a gold coin into the centre of the mug before glancing away from his spell book. Resting his chin his on his right hand, he strummed his metal fingers on the tabletop. "I need some new material," he mumbled, while scratching his chin, letting out a wide yawn. He rocked anxiously in his chair for a moment, and then stood quietly, his feet in his heavy brown leather boots, solidly planted on the ground. The youth turned towards the large wooden doors of the tavern, and entered through the main entrance. The large common hall of the building was decorated with a multitude of chairs and tables, a row of keys hanging from behind the bar, with a rather overweight barkeep with a stained shirt serving customers. The far side of the wall house a large fireplace, with a semi-circle of chairs lined around it, with a large oaken bookshelf against the wall.

His clear green eyes surveyed the area, where he noticed the rather large bookshelf. Taking a heavy iron and leather bound book from the shelf, he took a seat at an empty table - his red great cloak hanging just above the floor. Glancing over at the bar, with the lines of bottled beverages reflected back into the room off the large mirror in behind, he signaled to the barkeep for another drink. Leaning back, he kicked his feet up on the small table, his heavy iron plates leaving a dull thud. The barkeep tossed a few dried logs of wood into the fireplace and prodded it with a poker several times before giving Aramil his drink. He downed the drink as if it were simply water, and became engrossed in the new book, Intricacies of Engineering and Science.

Quick note about the topic:

Spoiler

Yet another tavern, perhaps if we have some interested folks, we can have an event happen to spur our characters into grouping up and going off somewhere to adventure. Feel free to make up things as you go.

A quick note about my character, he looks rather unimposing, perhaps the most striking feature is his metallic left arm. It is a warforged arm (see: Self Forged class in D&D 4E). His other arm is simply unadorned.

Aramil Greenflame

My only rule is to not control the other people's character's speech and actions, but it's a fairly general common sense rule.

Enjoy

[The Mad Hatter]

A man walks in! He certainly seems to be enjoying this new area. Better than Trog's, people didn't like him there. Captain Clegg walks in, he walks with a crutch that used to be composed of sleek ebony wood. Now, there's a piece chipped off, the handle is slightly dented, and the crutch has odd brownish, rust-colored stains. He wears a long navy and gold coat, now ripped up at the bottom, several bullet holes in the back of the long coat. He wears his wide-brimmed, ripped hat. He has a brown-grey messy beard, that matches his long grey hair. His left leg is wooden, and clunks as he walks. He wears ripped up gloves, and black trousers. He has some kind of leather armor underneath the coat. He takes yet another swig from the hip flask at his belt before moving over to the door.

He knocks with a fist and looks about. The man smells of alcohol, gunpowder, and...oddly enough a corpse. His eyes flash around with evident paranoia, and hidden in his coat are about ten different pistols and one rifle, hidden in his boot are two magical knives, and up his sleeve is a special gun, strapped to his arm, covered by the coat cuff. He smells of...alcohol, and...a corpse. Rather odd. He moves over to Aramil. Oy, wot be thi' place? M'names Captain Markus. Er...Captain Clegg.

[Greenflame]

"Clegg, is it? My name is Aramil Greenflame" Aramil spoke quietly as he placed the book on the table. The man had a certain musk to him that spoke just as loudly as the strange garments upon his person. A dangerous person, it seemed. "This seems to be another tavern in the area. Where this area is, I'm not sure. Went to sleep in my own bed one day, and woke up here. Been here for a few days now, and while it's strange, I prefer it to my home."

"How about you Captain," Aramil continued on. "What's your story?"

[The Mad Hatter]

Originally Posted by Greenflame

"Clegg, is it? My name is Aramil Greenflame" Aramil spoke quietly as he placed the book on the table. The man had a certain musk to him that spoke just as loudly as the strange garments upon his person. A dangerous person, it seemed. "This seems to be another tavern in the area. Where this area is, I'm not sure. Went to sleep in my own bed one day, and woke up here. Been here for a few days now, and while it's strange, I prefer it to my home."

"How about you Captain," Aramil continued on. "What's your story?"

Clegg just smiles. Ah, tha' 'appens a lot. People go t' sleep, an' wake up 'ere. Personally, I 'ate thi' place. Bloody people, bloody immortals, an' bloody villains. No' tha' they don't bother me. I's the good ones tha' annoy th' 'ell ou'' 'o' me. Pardon th' accent. Me? Nothing ye be needin' t' know. Wot exactly d' ye plan on doin' 'ere?

[PurityIcekiller]

The tavern was spotted by a certain mage. "Another one? Hopefully it will be better than the last two." After the dealings with random encounters in one inn and Ashtrek's violent firing in the other, a bit of normality was much looked forward to.

Thus, a blue-robed person with long copper hair and glasses stepped into the new tavern. "Hmm. Seems quiet enough in here... The usual unusual company. I think I'll survive." The mage took a seat and nodded to the others here. "Uh... Hello..."

Then the mention of "falling to sleep and waking up here" started to ring alarm bells. Confound it, why is it impossible to get a simple cup of tea or the like without reality breaking?

[Greenflame]

"What do I plan on doing here?" Aramil spoke as he half-turned his head as the mage entered, looking to the newcomer with his warm green eyes. "I'm a scholar of sorts, among other things."

Looking back to Clegg, he continued. "When I am in a strange new world, I find it in my best interest to learn what I can. What that entails of course..." he spoke as he shifted the handle of his bastard sword into view, showing that he was armed, while being non-threatening about it, "...really depends on who is asking."

With a wry grin to Clegg, he looked sideways toward the one clad in blue. "And who might you be, if you don't mind me asking?" he asked casually with a half-cocked grin.

[Rebonack]

A newcomer approaches!

There sure have been lots of those lately.

This one is... interesting. To say the least. But then most people who walk into this tavern are interesting. Especially the ones that don't seem very interesting. Because it is the inconspicuous that so often have something truly extraordinary to hide!

But now we're getting off on a tangent.

The newcomer in question is clad in a suit of powered armor of dark grey, bronze sheen, and electric blue lines. It doesn't actually appear to be made of metal, but rather plastics and ceramics. It has an extremely streamlined shape to it, clearly designed to make flight easier. And the head of the wearer is hidden behind a flat face panel with several senors built into its surface.

Oh.

And the wearer is a quadruped. Probably a griffin if his general shape is any indication. He's also rather big. Like... liger big. Big enough that a full grown human could ride on his back with no problem if one is willing to overlook the whole 'he'll eat your legs for trying to ride him' part.

So there's a griffon in the tavern. Wearing power armor. At the moment he's standing just inside the door and kind of gawking at the vast range of species here. Not that one can tell he's gawking due to his helmet. It doesn't take too long for him to get over his initial awe of the situation. Nor does it take too long for him to amble over to the bar and take a seat between two stools.

Stools aren't exactly built with him in mind. Thought the omnipresence of furniture built for bipeds is a subject of fascination to him.

Gerra (for that happens to be his name) locks his talons under his helmet and pulls it away resulting in a hiss as the pressure seal is broken. Under the headgear the griffon sports dusky grey plumage, wide yellow eyes, and a cruelly hooked beak as black as coal. A pair of feathered ears sit jauntily atop his head.

"Lamb, if you have it, would be wonderful," the griffin requests of the waiter behind the counter.

[The Mad Hatter]

Originally Posted by Greenflame

"What do I plan on doing here?" Aramil spoke as he half-turned his head as the mage entered, looking to the newcomer with his warm green eyes. "I'm a scholar of sorts, among other things."

Looking back to Clegg, he continued. "When I am in a strange new world, I find it in my best interest to learn what I can. What that entails of course..." he spoke as he shifted the handle of his bastard sword into view, showing that he was armed, while being non-threatening about it, "...really depends on who is asking."

With a wry grin to Clegg, he looked sideways toward the one clad in blue. "And who might you be, if you don't mind me asking?" he asked casually with a half-cocked grin.

Clegg liked this man. A scholar? Bi' bookish fer one so armed if I may poin' ou'. Bu', ye go' talent. I can see tha'. Watch ou' 'ere. Ye jus' migh' find somethin' ye'll regret findin' later. Don't delve too deep inter th' past. Things ge'....crazy. So, wot exactly be ye lookin' fer 'ere? Taverns aren't exactly th' great wilderness, aye? He nods and speaks out. He seems to just give glares at the newcomers. He does that.

[PurityIcekiller]

The mage smiled. "Oh, I'm a magical researcher myself. I work with spells, and I can make wands and such. My name is Xalicus Laffingstock. For obvious reasons, I go by my first name."

He flinched a bit at the sight of the griffon. Creatures like that made him nervous (as pretty much everything did, but some more than others), and the armour didn't help. "So, anyway, that's a... nice sword. Where did you get it?"

[Greenflame]

"Oh this?" The swordsman asked as he unsheathed the blade, laying it on the table; the mithril blade reflecting the fire, looking as if the blade itself was fanning the flames. "It's called Ar'cor'kerym - the King's Blade, in the tongue of my father's people. It's customary to pass the sword to the prince when they come of age, but my two older brothers took to the path of wizardry, while I was trained as a swordmage."

Aramil stopped his explanation momentarily as the innkeeper brushed by with a large helping of lamb to deliver to, what it looked like, a Griffon. Noting the strange material of the armor, and the equally odd headgear the creature wore, Aramil decided he would speak with the creature before the day was out, to perhaps learn a little about the equipment it bore.

"I have another sword as well, but he seemed to have got lost on the way here. I'm sure he'll turn up after a little while, he is pretty bad when it comes to directions, and this place does seem a little different compared to where I am from."

"As for what I want?" Aramil shifted to Clegg's question. "A way home - eventually, anyway. In the mean time, I will just see what this place as to offer. Perhaps Xalicus can show me a thing or two some time."

[The Mad Hatter]

Clegg nods. Lookin' fer adventure? He grins now, exposing his rotting, jagged, and sharp teeth.

[Greenflame]

Aramil matched the grin, albeit with healthier, straight and shiny teeth. "I've never been one to shy away from adventure," Aramil replied as he sheathed the sword. "I've slayed an orc or two in my day."

[Rebonack]

"Thank you sir, peace on you and your business," the griffin says with a slight incline of the head. He then holds out one armored talon, causing an intricate array of electric blue to briefly appear before what is presumably money flashes into existence. They... aren't coins. But rather thin sheets of some silvery metal laminated in clear plastic. Gerra frowns at the bills. "I'm afraid I'm not altogether sure what the exchange rate for shekels is here."

Well.

At least he's polite about it.

And one needn't fear the griffin to be some savage beast. He seems well spoken and quite civilized. Despite this he carries himself with the pride and poise of a trained and seasoned warrior. While he may be contemplative and intelligent woe betide any that might draw his ire.

[Mr. Moon]

There's another person here, too, and she's been here for a while now. Seated cross-legged at a stool is an older teen-aged girl. Her black hair is pulled back into a loose ponytail, hanging from the nape of her neck and running down her neck to end in a thin curl a hand's breadth below her shoulder-blades. The rich brown tan shade of her skin and the purple kimono she's wearing suggest an oriental heritage. As does the handleless mug of green tea she's sipping from. She is at least eating a plate of poutine, so she's saved from being a total walking stereotype. Well. Sitting stereotype.

And currently, this green eyed oriental teenager has her attention turned on the griffon who walked into the tavern. She peers at him for a moment, chewing a bite of fries, gravy and cheese curds, before swallowing and leaning closer. "So how do you get that power armour on without... y'know. Thumbs."

[PurityIcekiller]

"You're a prince?" Xalicus was startled briefly, but then remembered that royalty was still a lot more normal than a lot of things he'd run into. "Wow. That's nice. Sounds a bit too exciting for my tastes, though.

"Anyway, I don't think I could get you home; I'm not that great a wizard. But I'll help you out in any way I can."

[Rebonack]

No one wants to be completely stereotypical. That draws too much negative attention after all. But by the same token utterly breaking the mold makes it difficult to know what to expect from someone.

At the question Gerra's ear twitches toward the youth, his attention caught. The griffin looks down at his own talons and wiggles his opposing claw a bit. He's pretty sure these strange bipeds have a bit more range of motion than his race does, but that hasn't ever stopped he or his people from accomplishing marvels of engineering that put to shame most every other work he has yet to witness in his as yet brief stay in the Nexus.

And, well. The question was a bit rude too.

So he decides to answer it with a question.

"How do you manage to walk around without falling over when you're missing two legs?"

He doesn't wait for a reply. But he does wait long enough for the question to be contemplated.

"We all have our limitations. The wise peoples exalt their strengths and make tools to buttress their weaknesses."

[Greenflame]

"Prince by title only, really. I have no claim to anything unless my brothers die, and seeing as they aren't half-breeds, I'll be long gone before them." Aramil chuckled softly. "I've mostly spent my time travelling and learning of my world; joined a mercenary outfit, traveled various places, met many strange and exciting races, and sometimes killed them." The swordsman grinned a little at that, hinting that a little of it was exaggeration.

"Being a swordmage," Aramil continued on, after a short pause."I do have some experience with magic, although I found out very early that I was a natural at fire magic, and pretty much focused solely on that. There wasn't much to do as a spoiled prince, so I read a lot, and tutored under many teachers: mostly for enchanting, sword crafting and alchemy. I think now I should have studied more about planar transportation, teleportation, and the like."

[Mr. Moon]

The teenage girl pauses, considering this over a mouthful of poutine. "You know," she says after washing it down with a mouthful of tea, "you sound just like my father."

Munch munch.
"I don't think I've seen you around before. I mean sure, new place, new food - great poutine, by the way - means new people, but I'm sure I'd remember someone as..." she waves a french fry to encompass Gerra's mass "... griffony as you. I'm Mori Layla, what's your name?"

[Rebonack]

The griffin has been eating some lamb. Doesn't do much in the way of chewing. Which probably shouldn't come as much of a surprise since he doesn't have any teeth. Just rip off bits of meat and swallow them whole. Isn't that an interesting way to nom things! Wonder if griffins swallow rocks to help grind the food in their stomach...

"I'll take that as a compliment, intended or not."

That's gracious of him. He fixes Layla with that intense bird-like gaze of his, studying her intently. Probably doesn't mean for it to be so piercing. But its is kind of hard to avoid piercing stares when you have literal eagle eyes.

"Sadly my people are few here. To my knowledge I'm the only one of my kind in this place. There are... creatures... that are similar. But they aren't griffins. Not griffins as I know them, at least," he replies with a morose shake of his head. Then offers a formal bow.

Or at least what a formal bow looks like for a griffin.

He lifts one set of talons off the floor, bows his head, and partly unfurls his wings. "I am Gerra, Primary of Ugallu Wing, servant of the grand sanctuary fortress Bethanu."

[PurityIcekiller]

"No claim? I wouldn't count on it. There are so many stories about youngest sons who ended up inheriting everything, and given that a lot of said stories come true in this place, I'd say you've got decent chances."

Xalicus nodded. "I don't really have a lot of focus myself. The closest thing I have to a speciality is... Well, magic-magic. Energy shields, magic bolts, arcane fire... You get the idea. The raw magical stuff. I do study some from all kinds of magic, but I'm not as good at any of it as a true specialist is. Still, by knowing about techniques for multiple types of magic, you can combine them in useful ways."

[Mr. Moon]

Layla doesn't remark on Gerra's rather odd eating method, although she does watch with some amusement. She's still watching him with something of a smile as he turns his gaze on her, and to her credit Layla even holds his gaze for a while. But holding a staring contest with an eagle proves to be quite difficult and soon the girl is forced to take a great interest in her meal. She pokes at it with a fork, occasionally glancing back up to see if Gerra was still looking at her.
Which he was.
Guh. Creepy. Made her feel like a rabbit in a field.

Whoop! Bowing time now, evidently. Her father would be furious if he found out she didn't return a bow to a proper warrior. Quick and agile, Layla hops off her stool and faces Gerra, bowing at the waist with her arms straight at her side.
"So how long have you been in the Nexus, then? You can't be too new, or else you'd be asking a bunch of questions."

[Time for Never]

It seems that every time a new tavern opens it will immediately be swarmed by bored, wandering adventurers. That would be normal though seeing as how it's pretty effective at bringing insanely powerful heroes together to form those glorious adventuring parties of theirs.

Why fix what's not broken and all that. What harm will another person do then?

Coming over from the streets walks an adult man over to one of the empty tables in yet another tavern. Those types of tables are always the best to be as inconspicuous as possible, right? Except that it's generally difficult to be subtle when you're wearing elegantly chiseled plate armor and have a large greatsword sheathed on your back. While he for all intents and purposes appears to be a human, a closer examination would actually reveal him to be of the Shadar Kai race as evident by the light grey skin tone, strikingly dark eyes and midnight black hair. He wears clawed gauntlets and boots that end in sharp points. An armored mask covers his mouth, hiding his expression.

Grabbing the attention of the nearest waiter, he orders roasted emu meat.

...Oh, they didn't have that? Well then, what do they have?

In that case he requests for an order of trout. He loved seafood. The shadar kai then looks around to observe the patrons at this seemingly normal establishment.

A blue-robed sorcerer looking person, a decaying pirate type, an oriental individual, and what appeared to be a half-elf warrior of sorts.

And a griffon.

He's a bit surprised he didn't immediately notice it sitting there to be honest.

[Rebonack]

Griffin griffon gryphon.

A griffin large enough that when sitting on his haunches he would be eye to eye with quite a few humans. Wearing power armor. Yeah... missing him would be kind of hard.

With the formal introduction done he sits once again

"I've asked questions when I've needed to. I would like to avoid robbing myself the joy of discovery if possible," Gerra replies as he returns to his meal once again. Oddly enough he seems to be able to talk with his mouth full without any real issue. Must have something to do with weird bird lungs. "Days. At most. The movements of the heavens here are... difficult to track. The sky is unfamiliar to me. Certainly not one of Anu's mighty works."

Probably a god from his world?

"And what of you, Mori Layla? Are you likewise a sojourner in this strange land or do you call it your home?"

One ear twitches toward the most recent newcomer and Gerra turns his head at an angle that would be impossible for a human to regard him with that intense yellow gaze.

[Time for Never]

Spoiler

Originally Posted by Rebonack

Griffin griffon gryphon.

A griffin large enough that when sitting on his haunches he would be eye to eye with quite a few humans. Wearing power armor. Yeah... missing him would be kind of hard.

With the formal introduction done he sits once again

"I've asked questions when I've needed to. I would like to avoid robbing myself the joy of discovery if possible," Gerra replies as he returns to his meal once again. Oddly enough he seems to be able to talk with his mouth full without any real issue. Must have something to do with weird bird lungs. "Days. At most. The movements of the heavens here are... difficult to track. The sky is unfamiliar to me. Certainly not one of Anu's mighty works."

Probably a god from his world?

"And what of you, Mori Layla? Are you likewise a sojourner in this strange land or do you call it your home?"

One ear twitches toward the most recent newcomer and Gerra turns his head at an angle that would be impossible for a human to regard him with that intense yellow gaze.

The trout arrives to which Vordenar removes his face piece and begins to slowly cut up the fish into small bits. As he finishes dividing up the fish into little pieces, Vordenar looks up and to his surprise meets the gaze of the griffon in power armor.

That... that gaze.

It was piercing indeed, even enough to make the Shadar Kai to momentarily break contact with the mythical bird. He gives another attempt to match it in a staring contest as he eats the trout, never breaking eye contact.

This was very odd.

[Mr. Moon]

((Hey Time For Never, can you not quote the post just before yours? I appreciate the sentiment, but it's a tad unnecessary to remind people of a post literally just above yours. If you really want to, throw the quote in a spoiler tag. It's not a huge deal, more of a pet peeve of mine. ))

"Oh, I was born here," Layla hops back up onto her stool and returns to her half-finished poutine. Mm, poutine. "Second generation Nexus local. Well. Sort of. My Mum's parents were pulled in her while they were preggers with her, she grew up, met my Dad after he got spat in, they fell in love, and somewhere along the line I popped in." She looks away to take a few more bites of her poutine, and glances up just in time to see Gerra twist his neck into that incredibly odd angle. "You might like my... fa... What are you... looking at?"
Man, her neck hurt just looking at him.

[Rebonack]

Gerra doesn't remain staring for very long. All these asmeer or whatever they're called look more or less the same to him. Like trying to pick out individual geese in a flock before they decide to lay nibbling goosy vengeance upon you.

They just don't have any of the features that the griffin is used to using to help distinguish between other griffins. The closest thing would be the poof of hair on top of their heads.

But unfortunately the range of colors is pretty limited. So that doesn't help much.

"Just another wayfarer," Gerra replies before turning his attention back to Layla. "So you've spent your whole life here then? Have you ever heard of someone returning to their home from here before?"

[Time for Never]

((Moon_Called, I apologize that it annoys you and I'll try to cut it down if it's a problem. However, I don't quote a person to remind everybody of the previous post as if they have faulty memory. I do it because it helps me to better address all of the points in said post so that I don't accidentally forget to respond to something. I suppose I could open another tab and switch between the two, but it's much easier this way. Cheers!))

Vordenar shrugs and goes back to observing the rest of the patrons once the griffon turns away from him. He finishes his trout and orders a plate of carp this time with a glass of liquor to wash it down.

It didn't appear that there was anything important enough to need reporting back to NO for the time being.

[aric_kale]

Another adventurer enters the tavern. No, it is not Zane...

This new addition to The Nexus is wearing simple medieval-style clothing, with a stylized round-shield across his back, a sheathed dagger at his side and a spear being used as a staff. This man looks to be in his late twenties or early thirties. He carries himself as one of nobility. His eyes are green and care-worn, his shoulder length hair is not groomed, but is still kept well. He walks up to the bar and asks for a steak and fries...clearly used to modern food.
the only thing of note about him is the color of his weapons, they are not of ordinary steel, but are of a pearlescent coloring...

[Mr. Moon]

((That's fine. Maybe delete the quote from your post when you're done writing or something? Like I said, it's not a huge deal. ))

Goosy vengeance is the worst kind of vengeance.

Layla peers at the ceiling, munching on a mouthful of gravy and cheese curds as she tries to remember if she knows anyone who's ever left the Nexus. "Weell. Noone that I've heard of, but this is the Nexus. Anything's possible. If you can find someone with the right sort of magic you might be able to convince them. But inter-dimensional travel is pretty tricky. And dangerous." There are things between dimensions. Dangerous things. Layla could still remember the week when Cthuluian monsters nearly ate the whole of the Nexus.

...

Although she had gotten out of school that week.
So it wasn't all bad.

[Greenflame]

OOC: Sorry, been without power.

Aramil nodded to the mage, taking note that his knowledge of travel spells might not increase here. Then it caught his attention, the phrase 'inter-dimensional magic' and turned his attention toward the Asian girl.

"Excuse me," he called out towards the girl. "Do you happen to know where anyone who knows this so-called magic could be located?"