Fantasy One Night At The Tavern

[Dixie]

That's how these stories always start. One night at some bland, old, smoke filled tavern. A wide eyed child listens on the edge of his creaky wooden seat as a man twists the graying hair of his beard over one finger, recounting the tales of his youth. Passing on the spirit of a once young adventurer, beginning the journey anew in the brave heart of a young child with dreams of glory. A table of strangers sit in an uneasy silence, each one gripping a letter from a mysterious benefactor. A simple job summons their skills but soon detours into a long quest with the fate of the world in their hands. This once group of strangers from a simple tavern finds their names sung as parts of legends in yet another tavern. A treasure hunter points excitedly at his ancient map as he drums up a party to delve deep into the unknown. Rumors and whispers and drunken tales over flagons of ale let slip the first stepping stones to uncovering sinister plots of criminal organizations and conspirators against the crown alike. A bard sings long lost songs for coin while a rogue pinches a few more from the pockets of their patrons. A stranger from the north bellows as he drinks another cocky patron under the table.

These simple taverns and their seemingly magic properties have seen the birth of countless legends and stories, and still continue to. Aspiring adventurers line their halls, waiting for their story to begin. Guilds tap out new prospective members and take fresh faces under their wing. The simple tavern is an adventurer's home, and a single chance night can change the fate of a group of unsuspecting strangers forever.

And so: one night at a tavern, a new story begins.

One particular tavern, The Late Cup, has embraced the role of facilitating adventurers of all colors. The disgruntled barkeep, an old dwarf by the name of Gidrunli, runs the place. He opened it in the middle nowhere as a hub for travellers and aspiring adventurers alike to gather, train, and launch their journeys into the unknown together. The rooms at the actual tavern are limited, and come at a premium price due to the sheer amount of patrons on any given night. Due to this, a small tent city surrounds the tavern. Guild envoys, merchants, healers, and parties of adventurers all camp together around the ale filled halls of The Late Cup.

So come, take a seat. Make some friends. Slay some goblins together and meet back at the table for a fresh round. Or maybe you have a more lofty aventure to tend to, somewhere in a far off land. In that case, make haste! Gidrunli is opening a fresh cask from his personal reserve tonight, and we'd all love to hear the stories you have to tell.

 

[Raku]

It was a usual day for Locke. He did wake up a little bit earlier than he wanted to. Some new residents of the "city" around the tavern are clearly not heeding the locals warnings about the forest nearby. Hunters who have been around long enough know to be careful when traveling into the woods, but the new people will learn soon enough. If they keep going into the forest and trying to disturb the "savage beasts", that's what locals came Locke and his brother, the newcomers will get a special taste of terror.

Shortly after waking, Locke had made his way into town to meet up with David. For it being as early as it was, David had quite a few customers. But David was a merchant, he was used to being up early. The best of his stock is usually gone by midday. Thanks to the high activity of adventurers in the area, he had stock to sell. They come to him after a venture and either sell or give him a few relics they've found. Locke arrived in David's shop just after David finished the last of a large group of customers. With a handshake, they conversed for a little bit. Going back and forth in beast-tongue.

Several conversations and a couple English lessons later they realized it was a little past midday, and neither of them had eaten. After about 10 seconds of staring at each other Locke spoke up. "Lunch?" he asked, uncertain if he said it right. He did, and David nodded. David grabbed his pouch of coins and waved Locke out as he exited. With bow and quiver over shoulder and knife in sheath, Locke practically lead David through the "streets" of the little city.

Arriving at the Late Cup, they could see it was quite busy, especially for the early afternoon. Unsurprisingly, there were no other beasts there other than Locke. Understandable, for beasts did not come into town often. As the two entered a few heads turned with a confused look across their faces. It was Locke's second time in the tavern. They found a seat at the bar and order some food as a few stares turned into several more. Of course, most of those looking were new to town and/or never seen a beast before. ​

 

[Avouleance]

It had been a pretty productive day so far. Iryz wasn’t exactly fond of how densely forested the surroundings were, preferring to be out in the open. But if that was where one went to be ambushed so be it. Unfortunately, the bandits had barely had anything good on them. The weapons she’d looted were ugly deformed things, with no craft worth learning from. It was soon past the point where they knew not to try and fight her, there’s only so long she can keep her skills a secret. By now anyone who might have attacked knew she wasn't as unarmed as she’s tried to look. The lizard insisted she stop anyway, something about it no longer being fair. Not that real people tended to complain about her work.

There had been paper and if you believed the lizard it was important paper. Iryz had forgotten what they’d said it read though. Still the lizard insisted she go back to town, typical for someone who hooves didn’t have to carry everything. Iryz left the bodies in the open, having better things to do than burial, not to mention some of the pieces were pretty far spread out. She’d not checked where skull fragments landed, but considering she’d run one of the stragglers down at stampede speed and she’d been using a mace…

She let her weapon relax back onto her skin, still breathing heavily she felt satisfied with the exercise. Wasn’t often she’d let loose recently and getting to limber up made a nice change. Sure a few of the switches were frivolous, it’s hardly strictly necessary to knock someone up with a mace only to morph it into a spear for them to land on. But it was fun, and she could afford not to take people this unprepared to fight her less seriously. She felt sorry for their weapons, even tools that shabby deserved to be used by someone who wouldn’t want to run away at the sight of a little viscera.

Back in town Iryz annoyed more than a few smiths by appearing interested in buying their wares only to leave trying to make the same herself. The lizard spoke to a merchant or two but Iryz was too interested in other things to actually hear their conversations. She knew better than to bother following, the lizard told her to go to the tavern, and knowing he’d be insufferable if she didn’t she did as instructed.

The gazelle centaur walked in with confidence, the scraps of fabric she still had left blowing in the draft. Her tattoos attracted attention, though doubtful from anyone who knew what the were. This was hardly the place for anyone who knew what Urlan was. Strapped to her back was an elbow length green sock or glove thing made up to looks like a child’s idea of a dragon. Iryz approached the bar silently before turning to take the green sock thing off her back and put it over her left arm.

“Hi there everybody I’m Flame Face.” Iryz gave a slight glare, the lizard always talked to everyone like they were children, when such a comparison applied to human was deeply distasteful. The lizard continued “An' this here is my noble steed, she’s not the most verbose, but you can give her a sugar cube and a carrot and she might let you pet her.” If they tried she’d gore them on her hooves, not that Iryz said anything to that effect. She preferred to let the lizard do the talking. She drank water from her saddle bag while the lizard continued. “Now I’m here about a notice. Steed, the paper please.” Iryz begrudgingly obliged. “It says here’s there’s coin to be had...” Trust the lizard to be preoccupied with shiny things, Iryz zoned out of whatever was being said, instead forming a dagger in her free hand and turning it over, doing her best to concentrate on keeping the blade from collapsing back into her tattoos.

 

[Dark Sanctuary]

Roselle was seated in a corner of the tavern, bowharp in her hands as she tuned the strings slightly. Several other regulars at the tavern sat near her with a few holding weapons and glancing around. She's had trouble before, people who didn't like her due to her being a half elf would try and cause trouble.

Clearing her throat lightly, she played a few experimental notes before nodding. Whispering to one of the regulars near her, he nodded and bellowed out.

"Miss Roselle's going to grace us with another song! This one's called 'Song of the Ancients - Devola'!"

Roselle nodded again as she began her song.

 

[Tip Nut Man]

Raginheri growled as he stumbled up the rocky shores, looking back at what remained of his once great vessel. Four floating planks, filled with twisted nails and dented severely by hail.
The flat tips of the timber were charred, a pattern of black dressing the floating wood like the tattoos that covered the half-naked warrior.

That's what was left of his great vessel. Nothing.

He sighed and continued forwards, grasping the rocky side of the hill he was scaling and forcing his tired body upwards. The barbarian went
on and on, urging his exhausted body to push forwards with its last ounces of endurance. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he reached the
top of the hill, and took a look at the land around him. It was green, lush, and the flowers spread out in the field in front of him looked like a rainbow.
The colors were greatly diverse. Disgustingly diverse. The different shades hurt the man's eyes, and he grumbled as he squinted across the field. It was
a road, made of cobblestone, and there seemed to be two figures on it. Good, this land was populated.

Raginheri began walking forwards, doing his best to ignore the bees that flew past him as he strode forwards. He was too agitated to worry
about the little screaming demons. No, he was focused on learning where he was, and finding a place where he could sustain himself.

"Ahh, traveler, azu kha vireic?", one of the men would call down to him. The wanderer was dressed in a hooded brown cloak, and he smiled like a snake
with his pearly white fangs. The man looked unlike anyone Raginheri encountered before, adorned with reptilian-like features, though resembling a human.
And, while that intrigued him, it would have been far more amusing if he had found him when he was exploring for enjoyment
rather than unfortunate necessity.

"He says hello, and wonders if you would like to browse his wares," the man next to the wanderer said. This one looked fairly normal to Raginheri. Another
human, dressed with a fine brown beard and lowered jade eyes. He scoffed, wondering if the fancy plate mail the man wore was of his own making, or if he
just paid some blacksmith for the apparel.

Raginheri remained silent and still for a moment after the man had translated his friend's words, before he nodded and approached the two on the stone road.
He eyed them carefully. If the strange man was a magic-user, then this encounter could go horribly wrong for the barbarian, especially if this pair were bandits
working together for a profit. It wouldn't have been the first time Raginheri had been tricked by some troublemakers.

"Yes, I will browse your wares," Raginheri acknowledged, stopping a few feet from them. The wanderer smiled, taking a loose brown bag from beneath his
hanging cloak. His 'bodyguard' seemed rather suspicious, eyeing Raginheri. No, it was suspicion, it was something far more natural. Fear. Raginheri liked that.
That meant that the foreigner knew what was going to happen next.

"After you are dead," the Northerner decided, twirling his hand-ax, Guttrig, in his fist before swinging it upwards. The strange man was caught off-guard,
and found the metal end of the weapon buried half-way into his skull from a vertical swing. A spray of blood erupted from the wound, and the hooded man fell
over. The man's blood served as a fine lubricant, allowing Raginheri to easily slide his weapon free and swing at the armored warrior behind the man, who retreated
backwards and withdrew a longsword. Standing in wait for the gigantic Northerner's next move, the warrior was quick to parry the incoming slash from Raginheri,
sidestepping and cutting across the barbarian's left side.

With a growl, Raginheri stumbled forwards, turning slowly to face the huffing man in fancy schmancy gear. His face contorted in rage and he let out a fearsome
roar, striking the man with fear before leaping high into the air. He flew over the plated man, whose widened eyes followed the ridiculously fast figure as it suddenly
disappeared from view.

A yelp of pain followed as Guttrig was buried into the unarmored lower half of the man's right leg, digging almost completely through his calf muscle. Raginheri
landed, but the sudden kinetic force damaged his already weakened right leg. His tibia nearly shattered into pieces upon his impact on the ground, and he let out a loud
groan, doing his best to ignore the pain. He focused his eyes on the man in front of him. He was responsible for his suffering. This stupid foreigner was responsible for
his mistake.

Letting out another yell, the berserker charged forwards and slammed into the kneeling Hedge Knight, forcing him into the ground before them. They slid for a few meters, and
Raginheri put the man into a choke hold with his left arm, the warrior's incredible strength nearly ending the fight there. However, the barbarian wasn't sated, reaching back with his
right arm and gripping Guttrig. He ripped it from the man's flesh, letting out a huff as he stood and broke his hold.

The man turned, weakly gripping his longsword as he faced his sudden demise. Guttrig was brought down, vertically cutting his face and skull into two.

Raginheri stared downwards at the lifeless husk for a moment before shuffling over towards the corpse of his friend. He didn't bother with the man's longsword, as he
didn't prefer it over the hand-ax, nor was he very proficient in the weapon. It was worn down, so the best profit he could get from reselling it wasn't worth his time, in his
opinion. Similarly, there was no use for the man's armor. It looked second-rate, and would be too messy to sell. He was too proud to clean any other man's equipment, and far too large to wear the armor, anyway. However, the merchant traveler's pouch was what intrigued him.

As Raginheri dug into it, he found that it was completely empty. There was no doubt that it was magically bound to the man,
and that his death had broken the seal. The warrior cursed, wondering what riches had laid inside, if only he had been more
wise about the situation.

He turned again, viewing the land around him before setting his eyes on a large forest. Next to the forest, he could make out smoke rising. A village.
He decided that this would be his best bet, looking back down at the corpses. He spit next to the two, and began making his way to the civilization
just a mile eastward.
​

 

[Avouleance]

Iryz didn’t know how long it took before the lizard nudged her back into realisation.
“Mumphs puff humpf.” It’s mouth stuffed with coins. Iryz offered an open pouch for the lizard to spit them out into with a jangling. “Much obliged, now I’ve managed to find you some room in the stables for the night, quite a bargain. But before that, I have business in town so onward.” The lizard pointed towards the door.

Iryz walked where she was told, not noticing if anyone gave her undue attention. She didn’t figure them worth her attention for the most part, especially when she knew this wasn’t the place for anything approaching a fair or fun fight. The lizard agreed they weren’t worth the time.

However, it was on her way out she bumped into someone else entering snapping her back to the scene. “Apologies, she can be a bit clumsy.” The lizard had to crane to look the fellow who had just entered in the eye, he was taller than most and rippling with muscles that anyone else would have found impressive.

The collision drew the attention of a crowd, soon the inn was dense with chatter and a few louder slurs, something along the lines of raider or monster. None brave enough to be bold though. Iryz was content to back up a few clip clops and then just walk around him.

That was until the axe at his shoulder caught her eye. She bent to inspect it, otherwise ignoring him and the lizard curtly whispering in her ear “No, not now. Can’t you see this one is trouble?” Instead, she was transfixed, a fine thing to be sure. Stuffing the lizard back into her pouch (much to his protestation) she freed up both arms. Using one had to hold a hilt she was making and another to feel her way around his axe. She stroked it wistfully to inform the formation in her other hand.

 

[Tip Nut Man]

"What do you need?", Raginheri asked the strange creature, his eyes shifting to her's. He had never seen someone
of her kind before, but figured that they were one of the 'centaur' people that he had heard of.
The Lindari fishermen that they raided had effigies of the half-men-half-horses on their boats to supposedly
add to their durability. A stupid tale, as far as he was concerned, but he found that the practice
might have some backing. The girl herself looked rather small, but her legs were clearly powerful.
Raginheri had been struck by a horse before, and he knew which ones were deadly. She didn't have to be
massive and hulking to be dangerous. Those precise hooves could probably shatter someone's skull like
it was a wooden stick with the amount of force they'd unleash.

While his voice was naturally gruff and almost aggressive, the man didn't show any signs of
immediate violence. He didn't reach for Guttrig, nor did he ball up his hands or cross his arms. His
left hand was still placed on the part of the doorway when he was entering the bar a moment ago,
and his right hand dangled freely, ready to be used if necessary.

He wondered where the girl was from, and just how used this village must be to outsiders.
Clearly, though, he wasn't welcome. It didn't surprise him at all.

Evidently, Raginheri hadn't paid any heed to the dragon puppet that talked to him. Either he was
too tired and believed that it was some figment of his imagination, or he had connected the voice
to some subconscious thought or to the horse lady herself. Honestly, he didn't know quite what was
what, either.​

 

[Raku]

Both Locke and David were amused by the little show the centaur had played. David would say "excellent ventriloquist", Locke was a little confused by what she was. He had never seen a centaur before. He tilted his head to the side as she began to leave. He turned back to David and asked what she was. David chuckled as he had to think of what "centaur" was in beast-tongue. After a few seconds he found the word and told him. A few people nearby turned their heads with a look of confusion on their faces. They were more than likely thinking "How did he do that?". David was a linguist. He needed to be in order to widen his customer range. Though David didn't pay much attention to it, Locke noticed that the centaur hadn't left completely. No, she stopped. He couldn't see what she was doing, but he could smell something, blood, and quite a bit of it.

Locke Rose from his seat at the bar and moved towards the door. David turned his head towards Locke after conversing with the barkeep. He called out to him a few times before getting up and going after him. What was he doing? As Locke got closer to the door the smell of blood became more evident. Reaching the door, he saw the centaur standing there and a man standing across from her who was nothing short of gigantic. The centaur had been examining the axe the man carried, which was also the source of the smell. Locke just stood there looking up at the giant. As David rounded the doorway behind Locke he too saw the man and centaur. David recognized what he was. "Ah, you're a man of Giantsblood aren't you?" he said, already knowing the answer to the question. Unless this man was some kind of genetic freak.​