[Darkest Before Dawn] [Prelude] Another Nexus Night

Thorn Darkblade

Thorn Darkblade

I know lots of things. Lots of things...
Realm Year- Unknown, Location- Unknown


The campfire crackled under the dark red sky. Soot and smoke clouded the moon in a crimson shade. There were men, women, and children, haggard and dirty, their clothes ragged, their stomachs growling, huddled for warm. A cheer came though, as two men returned, a boar slung over their backs. At least there would be food tonight.


As they ate, warmth spread through the chill. A few armed men, tired, but no longer hungry, went on their nightly watch once more. One grizzled veteran remained by the fire though, as the children gathered by him. They looked at him, eager for yet another story. He smiled a warm, gap toothed grin, tore off another chunk of boar, and washed it down with some dirty water.


"Tonight's story, children, is a different story...it's entirely true."


One of the children whined.


"But I want to hear about magic and dragons and princesses!"


The old man laughed.


"True doesn't always mean boring, little one...this tale has all of those things...brave warriors, beautiful women, fearsome monsters..."


Now the children had given the old coot their full attention.


"It started, not too long ago, in a city on the river...this city was named Nexus..."
 
Realm Year 768, Ascending Wood 12, Nexus, The Broken Teacup Inn


To Berit


This place was filthy, noisy. The acrid smell of tobacco and hashish smoke filled the air of the tiny inn. Drunken soldiers cheered as they tapped out another keg. The music was a loud caucus affair, a foul blend of various regional musics that were probably beautiful on their own, but, not mixed. The tables were old, marred, and stained with...well, it was probably not good to ask such questions. Questionable patrons wrapped their arms around even more questionable women (or men, as the case may be...), the sounds of moaning and even more disgusting sounds coming from dim lit corners. Best to avert one's eyes from them...


The question inevitably arose though...why this place? Why was it in her visions? It was definitely this place, this city. Nexus, the Gem of the Scavenger Lands, the City of Free Trade...such glorious names...but, a few of the other names were more fitting...the River Harlot's Legs, came to mind in this shithole. But, this was the place...night after night of dreams had lead her to this place, down streets she had never seen before, but somehow remembered.


A Golden Bull, a Bronze Tiger, and a Copper Spider sat within a broken teacup held in the River Harlot's Legs in her vision...at least, for once, a few parts of it were more or less literal...stumbling upon the distinctive sign for this inn was beyond coincidence.


But the rest of that vision? Well, it made no sense...


'Entertainment' was coming on the stage soon though...
 
To Drycht


Alcohol flowed like water here. Disgusting. But, inns were always a good place for rumors, right? A bar wench put a drink on his table. It looked dirtier than the mug it was in.


"You might want to drink up, sug... the mercs 'round here get nervous when folks are more sober than them..."


There was an oddity in the bar though...his keen eye would notice the woman in the inn, that seemed quite out of place. However, the lights were dimmed, and the crowd hushed a bit, as the entertainment was coming on stage soon.
 
He had always avoided these kinds of places. Too many people offering him drinks, not enough orange juice.


Never enough orange juice.


But at least he got away from the children outside. Filthy little scoundrels.


As if by reflex, Drycht checked to see if his coin pouch was still on his person.


Yeap, still there.


The barmaid placed the mug on his table, and said a few words of advice.


Bah. Silly girl probably wouldn't understand half the things he has seen. Who is she to give me advice?


Drunk merc's and loose girls. And not a single rumour to fall on his ears.


Drycht sighed.


At least the people of Nexus had left him alone for the most part. It seemed like an unwritten rule, "leave others alone, and they'll leave you alone".


It looked like he was going to have to start digging around, and stirring up trouble to find what he wanted.


Typical.


The dimmed lights made it easier to navigate the room, it seemed to signal an event and as drunk as the patrons were, they still seemed to have some semblance of decency.


Well, except for those who hid in the corners.


He reached the bar, and tapped on the bench signalling for the barmaid to come to him.


Maybe she would be able to point out the oddities in this bar...
 
To Drycht


The barmaid finished passing out the drinks she had been given to deliver to the already quite inebriated patrons. After a much deserved glare at a soldier who slapped her ass as she walked away, she made her way back to Drycht's table.


"Done already, hon? What can I getcha now?"
 
Drycht chuckled.


"It was lovely, thankyou. But I was wondering, heard any particularly interesting rumours lately?"


Looking around, and noticing that odd woman out, he added,


"Or perhaps some patrons that seem.. a little out of place?"


Drycht flicked his hair back with his hand.


Experience had taught him, women loved it when he flicked his hair back.
 
To Drycht


She smiled at him, and spoke in her rural accent.


"Hon, yer in Firewander...you know how many odd folks come through here? Just last week one of dem Fair Ones came through here...didn't eat no souls though...didn't even order a drink...actually, left us some booze...ain't no one been keen on tryin' it though...you look like you can handle it though, big, strong man like you are...want some?"
 
"A fair one? You don't say..."


He had noted on the rural accent. It seemed that she was letting her guard down, just a little.


"Luv'", he tried to mimic her accent, "I think I would very much like to grab one of 'dem drinks. Perhaps in a flagon or a skin? A lil' sumthin' sumthin' to keep me warm on a lonely nights travel".


Ugh. This accent is making me sound like some country hick. Better hurry this up, before the so called performance was to begin.


He leaned in closer, "And perhaps, just perhaps, you know a lil' sumthin' bout tonights performance? I do oh-so-love me some spoilers"
 
To Drycht


She giggled a bit, her cheeks flushing red a bit, going to fetch a flagon. She set it down in front of him. The liquid seemed to flow with a million colors, some Drycht was quite certain didn't actually exist in a real spectrum of light. It smelled like incense...no, like cherries...like sunlight...wait, sunlight has a smell?


"Careful, I don't know what it'll do to ya..."
 
Sunlight? Sunlight has a smell?


Oh this stuff is good! You could tell that this came straight out of the wyld somewhere. The fact that it could break light into colours that don't... that should'nt exist means that it probably has some sort of magical tint to it.


The barmaid probably had more than enough sense to have a taste of it first.


But that doesn't mean he wouldn't try.


"Perhaps you'll have a sip with me?"


He held the flagon up, as if to pour a little into her lips.


Magic or no, he had no plans to drink this foul substance.
 
Fuck.


Well now he went and did it. To walk away would draw attention. To drink it would be madness. Sorcery and alcohol never mix.


He took the flagon.


"We could've had fun, luv"


Well at least he wouldn't have to keep pretending to have that god-awful accent.


Seriously. Who ends their sentences with 'luv'?


Drycht walked back to his table. Now with two drinks he had no plan of drinking, only new knowledge he had gained was of a fair one passing by and a performance that would begin soon.


It better be a damned good performance.
 
To Mithril


The lights were dimmed now. The stage was set. At least this shithole of an inn didn't need references to put a cute girl on stage. It was her stage now though. Her time to shine.


Hopefully, the money would be worth it.


The innkeeper, a very elderly man, with cracked spectacles, nodded to her.


"You're on."
 
Ugh. The things she was finding herself doing recently. She never would have stepped foot into this place before. Before, she wouldn't have had to. Before... That thought sobered her up like an icicle to the spine. She was here now, and she had an audience to entertain and some coin to earn. Maybe she could 'convince' someone to let her try her hand at fighting. That looked a little more rewarding. At least there was only one opponent.


Mithril flicked her gaze to the innkeeper and nodded confidently, stepping out onto the stage.


The dimmed lights made it hard for her to see the crowd, and the stage lights illuminating her made it flat out impossible. She picked a random person neither near nor far from what she thought was the main congregation and smiled prettily at them. Tapping her foot to the music, she began on of the more common tavern dances.
 
The beat had started, something common with a Southern flavour. Perhaps. She could always be terribly wrong of course. Pushing those distracting thoughts from her mind she flowed into something close to a belly dance, the sleeves of her top trailing in vivid streaks behind her, while her carefully modified top exposed a, rather short, line in skin from her ribs to her hips. Hips shaking, she made a graceful turn, giving an audience member a playful wink.
 
The smell probably overwhelmed her the most. It was unlike anything she had ever come in contact with and upon reflection, she didn't know if that made her naive or lucky. Sighing, Berit leaned her chair back against the wall and scanned the room. Even though the inn was on the smallish side, it was still a bit larger than that in her village and multiple times over noisy than it ever got on even the most rambunctious of evenings. The bright side of that was, she was able to slip in mostly unnoticed with a group of patrons and find a spot in the corner with a view of the entire floor and a wall to guard her back.


Trying her best to block the commotion out, she idly watched the stage. When she had first started to see things, it had been presented to her as a gift. The shrine elders were excited, saying that it was rare, even for a solar to have the gift of sight and that it was important that she focus her energies into it. Still, it bothered her. Visions and the like. Sometimes it was beyond her grasp why she would be given visions and yet denied her own past. 'It's the way of the gods' her elders would mumble cryptically at her, nodding amongst themselves.


Clearly they knew something she didn't and that annoyed her greatly.


In fact, as they pushed her out the door, she got the distinct feeling she was being used to some ends that they were not being fully truthful with her about. All solars were taught they were the chosen and trained accordingly, but she alone, out of the several that lived and worshiped at the shrine, was sent. It didn't matter though. Berit knew if she stayed in the village she would never learn anything. Since she had no other place to start and was in loyal service the Illuminated, there was no better she could do.


Presently, a dancer sauntered out on stage, snapping her out of a haze of worries. She didn't have time for any of that if she was going to figure out what the hell her vision meant. Scanning the room again, she peered through the dim lights looking for anything that struck her as familiar.
 
To Berit


Speak of the Yozis, and they shall appear, or so the old phrase goes...no sooner than she had thought of her previous vision, another one snapped into view, albeit not as overwhelming as the normal fare that would take over her vision...the dancer, small and lithe, had a brand upon her head, for just a moment, glowing with all the blazing glory of the sun. It was similar to her own, but instead of a solid gold circle, it was a sunburst display, eight rays shining out from a smaller center circle.


And then it was gone, leaving just the short girl dancing her elegant dance.


There wouldn't be any time to think about what that vision meant though...
 
To All


The show was suddenly interrupted by a crash and a woman's scream. Everyone's attention was drawn to the back, where a half dozen or so men, standing and swords drawn, a woman slowly bleeding to death on the floor in front of them. A shorter man stepped forward, holding a very bloody mace, and spoke up.


"Kend, you old fool, where are you? We told you what would happen to your inn if you didn't pay up! Barrow Black doesn't appreciate being lied to!"


The rest of the patrons began to flee while they still could. The man with the mace grinned to himself, chuckled a bit, and turned to his men.


"Burn this shithole to the ground."

I'm assuming all of you are probably gonna step up and fight these assholes...in any case, running or fighting, combat is beginning, so I need a Join Battle roll from all of you. This is a (Wits+Awareness) roll. Once again, invisiblecastle.com has a great diceroller built in, and you can link the results here,

:D
 
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