
"I 'unno, I wasn't paying attention." Kevon looks inside his mug sadly, then glances at the serving staff, who are studiously avoiding looking towards the table.
Zed has his feet on the table, leaning back in his chair and puffing on his pipe. He seems utterly at ease, but you notice one of his hands is tucked next to his belt. "The Crown of the Vermillion Devil." He responds softly.
"Yea! That was it!" Kevon gestures clumsily as he speaks. "So what do you guys say? Wanna form a coalition? I mean, it's worth a lot of money."
"What do you know about this treasure?", asks Quasar just to make conversation. That man wasn't even sure about the name of the relic until few seconds before, the magician doubts that he might bit a reliable source of information. But still something valuable could come out from his babblering.
"Who is ready to pay such a fabulous amount of money and why? Where did you hear about this job?".
Kevon stares at you for a moment, eyes wobbling as he tries to make them focus, "I'm not sure, I think the Emperor wants it, or something. I 'unno, that barmaid over there told me about it." He points vaguely in the direction of the bar, "Go ask her. And get me another ale!"
The dark haired serving woman and the barkeep stand behind the bar having a whispered conversation, occasionally shooting looks at Kevon, and your table in general.
"Oh, ok", comments Quasar with a half-smile, "So you knew it from a...wench. Very interesting". Without moving from the table, the magician pushes his untouched mug of ale in front of the drunk man. "Here, have mine. I just remembered that I'm on an empty stomach so I'll focus on ordering some food first". This said, he makes a sign with his right hand to the dark haired barmaid while keeping the left on his stored dagger.
Arathriel- You stand in a hallway, facing a solid wooden door. The door begins to writhe and squirm as you move to open it, but for some reason this seems natural to you. You open the door, and step into the room beyond. A large fire burns on a heavy hearth, and a man sits with his back to you.
"It's true what they say, isn't it?"
He mutters, still facing the fire.
"Yes." You respond, realizing this man is your father.
"Did you do as I asked?" He asks you, his face stern.
"Yes." You tell him again.
Your father smiles and claps you on the shoulder, "Good, lad, good. I knew you would. A larger task lies before you, however. Don't let me down, Son."
Your father disappears as you start awake, and immediately the dream begins to fade in your memory. You are in a room in the Drunken Walrus, in the room you rented last night, and there are sounds of merriment coming from downstairs.
Out of Game: Arathriel is feeling rather hungry/thirsty
In Game: Quasar- "Thanks!" Kevon exclaims, burying his face in the mug of ale. The barmaid saunters over, carefully avoiding meeting Kevon's eyes. "What can I getcha', hon? We've closed the bar for your friend, but I can still get you a drink, or a meal, if you'd like."
Arathrathriel sits slowly up in bed, slowly reaching up and letting his fingers slowly slide across the deep scar running for the bridge of his nose to his jawline on his right cheek. He swings his legs over the edge of the bed grabs his tobacco and shoves a larger than normal dip of chew in his lower lip. He then hurriedly got dressed and rushed down stairs to bar, in search of food and drink. All the while trying to shake the troubling dream of his father from all those years ago.
Arathriel- A sudden wave of noise hits you as you open the door to your room. Laughter and jollity wash over you as you proceed down the stairs. The common room appears quite full. Only one seat is open, and there are three other people at the table. One is a brown haired man with thick moustaches, one is an Elf, and the other appears to be some sort of magic user. The brown haired man is very obviously wasted beyond belief. A serving woman speaks softly to the Magic-User, while the drunken man glares balefully at them both.
Out of Game: You have been here in Plaeti for a week, and you are aware of the Bounty on the Crown. Edited: Oinodaemon on 5th Mar, 2013 - 6:29am
Arathriel at hearing all of the commotion pulls the hood of his black cloak on so that he was some what concealed and slowly walked toward the only open seat in the bar and asked the gentlemen sitting at the table if he could sit down. He then pulled a pipe and bag of tobacco from his cloak and started packing the bowl with a a very musty heavily nicotine laden smell while waiting for there answer