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Fantasy Sanctified in Combat

Romani

Romani

Ace of Spades
Our world is one of wonder and danger. Man wars himself in all corners of the land. The Elder races scheme against one another. Powerful beasts wander and prowl. Great and mysterious deities rule from above, below, and among us.

In this way, we are cursed with a confusing and dangerous life, but gifted with one of adventure, challenge, and reward.

Are you strong enough to fulfill yours?​
 
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Ribbit Ribbit Jakiro Jakiro Dark Sanctuary Dark Sanctuary Magadude Magadude Spice Spice Uasal Uasal @swiftly QuietlyExisting QuietlyExisting
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Winter came, swiftly and with brutality. Many towns are snowed in, cut off from one another. The only way of transporting news or supplies is through the Lady-Regent Alyss's courier service. These warriors risk life and limb to bring much needed food, drink, and information to areas of the kingdom hit hardest by the weather.

It isn't just the cold you have to worry about either, travellers. While many of the beast are forced into hibernation, some manner of creatures thrive in the cold and snow. Gangly, wretched monsters with glossy black eyes and dead skin are known to wander at night.


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As such dangers exist in these times, you lot have taken refuge in a tavern, the bartender an aged but large man with a northern European accent.

Patrons chat quietly amongst one another and the bartenders and barmaids tend to their mugs and plates as needed.

A few men, sailors marooned as the oceans become too cold and brutal to venture, sing shanties and spin tales of great adventure. ​
 
"Great timing, dumbass" Fennik thought to himself as he walked by a road next to dense and snowy forest.
Even while heating his blood, he still felt like freezing to death right there, so he decided to make a camp in the forest.
A few hours go by, he is lying in his small tent made from whatever he could find, barely awaken he hears a noise sending a chill down his spine, proving that it can get colder.
He quickly got up and looked around, his nose, otherwise quite helpful in this situation was suffering from the cold and he could barely smell anything. He couldn't hear much through the sound of the wind and the leaves furiously shaking.
Finally spotting two red, glowing eyes looking at him, by the size, it could be a bear.
Fennik picked up a rock and threw it at the thing, in hopes to scare it away, but only making it come closer to the campfire, revealing itself.
It was a black bear, or atleast was; there was almost no fur and some of it's bones were showing, probably a necromancer's zombie that escaped.
The man ran at the beast, before jumping and kicking it in the nose. A good hit, but it kept coming, even with it's head being only held to the body by bones and some muscles, somehow still looking forward; it couldn't really attack since it can barely stand, which calmed Fennik a bit.
Even though raised in a tribe, he knew little about these types, but that they are very attracted by light. Fennik decided not to waste any of his blood, since he had almost no food left, and picked up a stick, setting it on fire and throwing it away hoping to catch the bear's attention.
His plan worked, and the bear walked off, chasing the torch.
Deciding he didn't want to stay, Fennik kept on following the road to a city, hoping to find refuge for the winter.
 
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The man shivered under his plate armor. The steel did little to protect against the relentless cold. Nevertheless, he ignored the sensation and pushed on, much more afraid of the sensation of no longer being cold.

He soon came across a port village lit by lanterns scattered about. No doubt to drive away the Frost Wanderers. He stopped his horse by a tavern with a stable and set about securing the beast inside. Once his mount was safe inside the stable, he pushed open the door and removed his greathelm. He had traded his tattered white cloak for a thicker, dark fur, which he now hung from a hook on the wall by the fireplace to dry.

"You'll have to leave your weapons, stranger",the bartender called from behind a thick grey beard. He hadn't looked up from his task, whatever it was. Thomas grunted in acknowledgement. "You have rooms then, mate?",he asked. The man nodded. "Three copper pieces a night. Rooms for warriors are a silver",he explained,"They've got a rack for those plates and the tools to clean them."

Tom sighed and placed a dozen silver coins on the counter. "There's bound to be more of us coming through, this ought to cover them as well." The barkeep raised a bushy eyebrow but he didn't object. "No refunds",he grumbled before tossing a key onto the bar and returning to his work. The armored man took the key and walked up the stairs to the matching room.

After changing into a mail shirt and leaving his weapons, plate armor, and helm on the provided racks, he returned to the bar. He saw a woman with her ears at a sharp angle, slightly pointed, but not enough for him to label her an elf. Possibly a half elf.

The way she held herself was like that of an elf, albeit, one of the more secretive and hidden factions. She sat in a corner, piercing eyes watching everyone. She had metal piercings in her nose and her hair was pulled taut in a ponytail and he questioned if her lips, pierced like her nose, were pulled tighter. An intimidating figure to be certain.

Deciding his health would remain safer at the bar, he sat down and ordered a pint. Whilst he waited, he heard the screaming of the wind again as the doors swung open.​
 
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So cold! Lucas walks through the town, shivering. Then he sees a tavern and rushes towards it. He goes inside and spots instantly a fireplace. He doesn't even notice the other people in tavern as he rushed over and sits close to the fireplace.

Lucas then notice the bartender trying to get his attention. "Leave your weapons." Finally noticing the other people in tavern, he feels a bit embarrassed. He goes up to the bartender and ask for a room and the bartender tells him the prices. Lucas takes out his money bag and looks through it. "I don't know how to tip so I hope these will do" he says in a scratchy voice while putting two gold coins on the table. After getting the key, he goes to his room and leaves his weapons there.

Lucas decides to go to bar and get something to eat. After existing his room and going back to the bar, he sees a girl in the corner. I might as well talk to someone. He walks over to the girl and says in his scratchy Francis voice "Hello."
Romani Romani
 
The blond woman watched the different humans wander about the tavern. A few spoke, but several chose to sit alone, such as the man in mail whom she assumed had paid for the warrior rooms.

The door again swung open, the screeching wind and cold air accompanying it. "Close it ye daft preck!", someone called from their table. The young man had obliged before practically charging the fireplace. Worried he might've been a decoy of some kind, Teya quickly scanned the room, but nothing caught her eye.

When she looked back to the odd boy, and a boy he was in her eyes, she saw him attempting to buy a room, not realizing there were some available. He dropped to gold pieces, at which the barkeep initially scowled at, before looking closer. He took the coins and handed the boy a key to what Teya assumed to be the royalty suite.

He left for the room and came back. For whatever reason, be it her armor and cloak or her face, he spotted and decided to approach her. Koji đavo? He greeted her and as he spoke, she noticed his voice carried an accent as well as a tired tone. "You should go get yourself a drink, little one", she said, "You'll be no good to anyone in the state you're in." She meant not to insult the boy, but recognized his youthfulness, especially when compared to herself.​
 
Kraghar was beaming as he jangled the pouch of gold he had. Ores were always in demand and easy to find, for a dwarf that is. Walking through the streets, he notices a tavern and decides to head on in for several drinks and if the weather worsened, a night or two.

Entering the tavern, Kraghar makes his way to the bartender. He was about to order a drink till he was told that he had to leave his weapons as well as the pricing for the rooms.

"By me beard! Yer sitting here and making easy gold outta the lot of us, ain't cha?"

Taking out several gold coins and stretching slightly to place them on the counter, he then takes the key and heads up to deposit his stuff.

"I'd better see me drink ready when I get down!"

Going to his room to deposit his rucksack and weapons, Kraghar stretched slightly before heading down to the counter, pulling himself up to an empty barstool.

"Oi! I'm thirsty for me drink already!"
 
Lucas looks confused for a moment. "Oh, you're talking about my voice. There's no need to worry. I've been talking like this since I was a younger." Although, if I keep talking like this I might need to drink something. Lucas feels his mask about to fall off, but adjusts his mask in the last minute. I really need to learn to tie this thing correctly. "Sorry about that, I swear this thing refuses to stay on sometimes." Romani Romani
 

  • The man looked to his left and was surprised to see, and soon hear, the dwarf beside him. He seemed extremely upset about his drink. "He'll pull your drink mate, just calm down, yeah?",he said to him,"Not like you've got someplace to be, weather like it is."

    Thomas took another drink from his glass, his right hand casually coming to rest on the pommel of his dagger. With the elf, the younger lad, and now the dwarf, all sorts of rough folk were beginning to enter.

    Suddenly and abruptly the sailors, drunk far beyond reason began singing a popular folk song about. The spritish looking one, a woman he realised, led, her voice rising in a rather shrill rendition of "the boy I love". It was quite amusing actually.
    ​
 
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"Let's just say that people might or might not be looking for me?" He says jokingly with his scratchy voice. He begins to listen to the drunks singing while tightening his mask to make sure it doesn't fall off again. They're not as good as the bards in the castle, but they're not bad. Romani Romani
 
"Feh!" That's fer sure! Blasted chills ain't gonna be a swell partner out there!"

Kraghar sighed as he rested his rested his arms on the counter.

"Sure miss me capitol...still...ain't no other choice fer me kind. Yer kind don't even last the mountain stroll up. We gotta lug all these ores and minerals down ta yer towns and cities."

He then glances over to the sailors that had started singing and a small smile formed on his face.

"At least yer kind knows how ta make merry."

Romani Romani
 
Captain Wendell wasn't really surprised when one of her crew -- Karen. Of course it's Karen. -- decided to forego their drink in favor of jumping atop the table, before utterly butchering a song they were all too familiar with. The spritish woman's voice was so shrill that it would put a dolphin to shame, a fact to which the Captain tried to stifle a laugh. After a few seconds of claps and jeers of encouragement, the rest of her crew decided to join in as well. Her crew locked their arms together, before clumsily swaying side to side as they poured their heart and soul singing as loud as they can.

The sight could only be described as a glorious display of drunken camaraderie.

No one would mistake them for a choir, that's for sure. Most were horribly off-key, some were too drunk that they can't even pronounce 'boy' properly, while others didn't know the lyrics. Still they were having a good time, and that's the only thing that mattered to her. Her crew had earned it. A night's worth of drinking and merriment was the only appropriate thing to do after a successful mission.

Though that's not to say that they drank after every successful mission -- they would have all died of liver failure then! No, the Captain thought that they needed a boost in morale for the upcoming season. Winter was a bitch, and even the most seasoned of sailors would crumble under the conditions that it brought. Her crew need not be reminded of that, and so she was doing her best to try and drown their worries with beer. Beer bought from her own coffers. Eh, she'd worry about her financial status later she supposed.

So far, it was working, if the laughter and singing wasn't obvious enough. "Oi Cap'n, whaddya doin' there just sittin' around? Join us!" Her head turned to the source of the voice. It was Joey, the big, burly one, that spoke. He was an intimidating fellow, but for once he looked like an utter goof, what with that childish grin of his. The others soon came to realize the lack of a captain within their midst, and they too beckoned Aurora to join, their singing coming to an abrupt halt.

The woman in question smiled in return. "Heh, thing is my mug's empty," She shook the offending object a bit for added emphasis. Everyone knew of her obsession with ginger ale, yet no one dared to question it. Not since that day when she threw a hissy fit after learning that her favorite brand of ginger ale was discontinued. Those were dark, dark times for the Kunkka's crew.

"Geez, if you love that thing so much then why don't you marry it captain?" This time it was Gerard that was speaking. He was a bloke whose mother never gave him enough attention as a kid. Lucky for him though, a few laughs emerged from his peers, though the wiser ones elected to stay silent.

Aurora didn't skip a beat. "Trust me, if it was possible then we already would've had ten children." She waved him off nonchalantly, her face contorting to a satisfied smirk at his unsatisfied reaction. Afterwards she made her way towards the bar, sitting next to a dwarf and his taller companion.

She manages to catch the last of what the dwarf said, causing her the edges of her lips to turn upwards. We do, don't we? She briefly considered answering for his companion, but in the end she thought against it. That would be a rude thing to do, and she doesn't know how a dwarf would react to that.

Anywho, back to the reason why she came here in the first place. "Scuse me, but more ginger ale please!" She set her mug down on the counter, along with her payment.

references:
Romani Romani Dark Sanctuary Dark Sanctuary
 
Kraghar turns his head to the woman who had taken a seat beside him. He had caught part of the drunken conversation going on and knew she was the captain of the rowdy bunch of drunken sailors.

"Heh! Days and nights go by better if ye had something ta laugh about! If that fails, there's always comfort in a drink and a warm fire!"

Hearing her order for her drink, Kraghar is reminded of how he hasn't received his drink.

"Feh! Barkeep's aint got me drink out yet. If the bloke serves ya first, I'm gonna have me conversation with im and drink his cellar dry!"

Stretching and stroking his beard slightly, he decides this captain would be a better conversation partner.

"So, I'm guessing ya had a fine time out in that blue grave? What with yer whole crew either drunk or passed out. What's yer game out there? Trading?"

Jakiro Jakiro
 
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Fennik had finally arrived at the city, imediately seeing a tavern and running to it.
As he walked in he noticed how he stood out in the crowd, deciding it would be best to just order some food and go to sleep he sat down in a table alone.
As the food came he put his mask aside, ignoring the weird looks from the waitress he started eating.
His face had a few scars and his hair was black and reached about the middle of his neck.
A few moments later, he grabbed his mask, put it on and walked to the barman.
"A room, please." After hearing the prices he was relieved, as that was about all he had.
Fennik grabbed the key and walked to his room, collapsing onto the bed.
 

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    Thomas listened to the dwarf go on about the work he did. "There are worse tasks",he said solemnly and took a sip from his nearly empty glass.

    Not long after, the sailors got to their feet and joined their shrill friend in song. Tom laughed at the dwarves comment. "Aye, that we do.", he replied, emptying his glass and joining the others in their thirst. "Barmaid!", he called, and after placing a few coins on the counter, she took his glass and handed him a much larger mug. He smiled at the two others and held up his drink. "You were asking after the wrong one", he explained and turned back to the barmaid, "And whatever they'll have as well, if you will miss."    ​
 

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The Holy Knight Clair​

In the forming blizzard there was no way to know which direction to go, the usual landmarks were hidden behind the white that swirled so densely. Even Clair's sheath was nothing more than a crude outline of a hilt mostly erased by the storm. The soft crystals she would have found so bewitching from the other side of a pane glass, found their way into her shroud in every possible way. The packed down her neck and between the fabric that flapped at the front. She could feel her blood cool and her skin become icy. She shouldn't have come, not in this weather. Disorientation was a given; and the cold was a killer.

Yet Clair had a job to do and were it not to be completed many would suffer as a result. But how? How could she possibly find what she was looking for when she could hardly see two feet in front of her? Well as a matter of fact what she had been out looking for just happened to end up to feet in front of her moments after she had given up hope.

The beast was big, it was ferocious and it took the form of an un-dead dire bear. An un-dead dire bear drawn to her by what seemed to be a stick set a blaze and of course the beast itself was also slowly being set a blaze. It was an escapist, the wretched work of a necromancer turned lose upon the world. It was a disgrace, it was an eyesore, it was dead! (Well it was already dead but you know what I mean, hey stop, don't be so hung up on the details!)

You see the second the beast moved to stand on its hind legs Clair drew her blade and as the beast moved to slam down upon her Clair decapitated it. You know by using it's own momentum against itself? pretty smart right! Anyway decapitation was really the only way to deal with un-dead beasts, in fact one was required to display the head of the beast as proof before pay was given.

And well to save you some excess reading I'll pick up where she does such a thing.

Clair slowly but surely returned to the village in which she had received the bounty and upon doing so she immediately made her way towards the inn/tavern. Upon reaching the tavern Clair moved to open the door and slowly dragged the severed head of the bear along behind her until eventually she managed to rest it upon the bar. Now it was safe to say that a shrouded woman dragging a severed head somewhat managed to gather the attention of some within the bar but surprisingly the barkeeper was the one most shocked by the event.

With the bartender being the only one able to see her face, Clair offered a smile before talking quietly to the man "The dire bear from the forest, that's one hundred gold pieces correct ?"

With the bartender seemingly speechless Clair let out a soft sigh "You can keep it, just give me a room and make my food and drink on the house. And I'll be keeping my weapon with me, can't have it vanishing on me now can I"

@Any one
 
After the girl left for her drink, Lucas hears sorting from, what he thinks is the Captain of the drunken sailors, that confuses him. What is ginger ale? From what I can pick up about it is it is some type of drink, and that apparently the Captain is madly in love with it. Lucas continues to wonder about ginger ale and listens to the drunken sailors sing, until someone dragging a severed head to the bar.

Lucas is startled at first, and then he notices the severed head is from a bear. This calms him down a little bit, but he was interested in the deal she was making with the bartender. It seems like a odd deal. Especially since the bartender seems to be the most shock out of anyone. Also, what is he going to do with a bear head. I can't imagine he could make any food with it. Lucas continues to focus on the deal. Uasal Uasal
 

  • Jeorg was already having an odd night what with these warriors coming in to raid his ale stocks. To make things stranger he had a decrepit bear head dropped on his counter, which he was in the midst of cleaning. He simply stared at her in disbelief. After giving him her demands, he turned over one of the remaining keys that Thomas had paid for and grumbled to himself. "Krysten! Stew and ale!",he called and turned back to the woman,"You'll leave your blade in your room or you'll have to eat your stew outside" Arjun's beard, is it a full moon tonight?​
 
An'ggrath's boots crunched in the snow as the winds whirled around him, more of an annoyance due to the lack of vision then any real hindrance to him. The cold meant nothing to him as he had no feeling to lose nor any blood to run cold. Despite the annoyance, on the morrow, it would be beautiful. A world of pristine purity until it was marred by the stomping of dirty, muddy feet of animals and humans that scurried left and right as they moved about their lives in an endless cycle with different faces. He had little to fear from the denizens of the night or the forest as he had already crossed another creature of undeath that took the form of a massive bear in the forest, but they had passed one another without word or blow, perhaps an unspoken understanding had passed between them, kin in a way, linked together by the same dark magic that held their bodies together, either way, there were few creatures in this portion of the realm that could threaten his existence and, without other travelers willing to brave the storm, he could make good time on the main roads... if one was generous enough to refer to the dirt paths as such.

His simmering blue eyes fell on a small tavern within the small, unremarkable town. It held no special purpose or allure, it was just another hole in the wall. One that would be lost and forgotten in time as quickly as it had appeared. There was no reason to grace it with his presence or endure the presence of drunk mortals, yet, for some reason, An'ggrath found his boots carrying him to the worn wood door, and even more surprisingly, his large gloved hand pushing open the door, and for an instant, he almost thought he could feel the warmth of the fire within brushing past his cold skin, but as quickly as it came, it disappeared as he was brought back to his normal, unfeeling, reality. Committed to his actions, even if he did not understand his own motives, An'ggrath stepped into the tavern, after leaning slightly down and angling his shoulders to fit his large frame through the door, that is.

An'ggrath let his gaze roam over the room as he rose to his full height again. To the dwarf, men and the elf with enough metal in her face to make An'ggrath wonder if it spoke of some deep self-loathing desire to mutilate herself or the odd fascination with understanding the feeling of a stucked pig, which, he had to concede, likely was born of the same desire. With elves, it was always anyone's guess as to what motivated them. His gaze, from the shadow of his helm, slid to the others, to the group of men and women singing, if one could say if they had a strong hatred of the word, some barroom song or another, after awhile, they all blended together.

An'ggrath unhooked his large sword and set it gently down next to the counter after seeing the other weapons lined up. He had no fear of someone stealing it as he did not sleep so there was little chance of someone sneaking his large blade out without his notice, and, well, he had an eternity to chase them down, reclaim his property and teach them the errors of their ways as he flayed their flesh. His eyes fell on the head of a bear... the same bear he had crossed paths with earlier. An'ggrath reached out and ran his metal-encased fingers through its dark fur, the momentary kinship he had felt with the beast earlier almost causing a slight pang in his breast. "Rest well, my friend," An'ggrath said softly, his ghostly, rasp slipping out from his dark helm, "Someday, I shall join you in eternity."

He became aware of the small cloaked girl to his side, but after glancing her over once, he dismissed her. It was none of his concern, even if it appeared everyone was grievously overpaying the tavern keep by an exorbitant amount. An'ggrath did not bother ordering anything, not even a room, as should it grow necessary, he would simply leave and resume his travels. Instead, he choose to make his way across the tavern to take command of a small, empty chair in the corner and lower himself into it, ignoring how the wood creaked in protest at the weight of his armor. Free, he was able to watch the rest of the tavern, and his mind wandered, for a moment, he saw a hundred taverns and a thousand faces, the familiar songs and faces, the same voices and cheers... Just for a second, he thought he heard someone say his name, his gaze turned to his left at a small child with long dark hair who smiled up at him with a large gap-toothed smile. Slowly, as if weights pulled on him, An'ggrath reached out to the face just to have his hand pass through it. A memory. Just another memory. An'ggrath wished he had the ability to close his eyes, just for a moment, but that was beyond him now. All he could do is watch the world snap back to the cold reality it was and for that little child to vanish once more into the dark depths of his memories, lost to time once again.

An'ggrath lowered his hand back to his lap and closed it into a fist as he kept a vigil on the other 'guest' at the establishment, trying to banish the demons and memories of the past with sheer willpower as he tried to enjoy the common sight of a tavern and its denizens once again.

Romani Romani Dark Sanctuary Dark Sanctuary Jakiro Jakiro Uasal Uasal
 

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    Winter had surely come. This was a fact that none could deny that night. Not with the harsh howling wind that scooped up snow and spit it vengefully into the faces any who attempted to travel in it. He expected that even the high lords in their warm towers with roaring fires in the hearth could feel the chill. Yash wrapped his furs tighter around his body as he pushed Dust onward through the storm. Around him the miserable grumbles of their traveling company could barely be heard above the loud hissing of the wind. Though the disheveled whines of the horses were enough to know that their small party was very clearly in a desperate state.

    "Ain't we close?" A voice yelled from behind him. Yash looked over his shoulder in the direction of the speaker, spotting the man who had spoken with an annoyed grunt. His Lordship was tucked warmly in layers of the thickest furs Yash had ever seen. Even if the furs weren't enough to keep him warm his excess of fat surely would. His horse, a sweet black mare, strained under his heavy weight. About him was a company of shivering guardsmen and donkeys carrying his loads of heavy riches.

    "Nearly there, Milord." The guide called from the front of the train, his voice barely heard.

    "By the gods, don't you have a Mage in your service?" The lord shouted, "Can't she break this storm until we've found cover?"

    Yash shifted in annoyance about to pull his horse about to make the lord quiet. His hands were stopped by a small gloved one. Dust pulled to a stop in the thickening snow, his sister's sandy mount pausing beside him. She gave a soft shake of her head. He understood why. It would do them no good to pick fights and be left wounded in the snow. Shanna, though a mage, could no more control the weather then his Lordship. The High Lords did not always understand this fact. Thinking magic could solve all their problems and becoming angered when they discovered Mages only had power over certain realms.

    "No need for that, Milord." The guide pointed toward a growing light, "We are here."

    Soon they were all filing through the thin streets of the town. Above them on the mountain sat the estate of his Lordship, which the party turned towards. The Guide pulled back to ride alongside Yash and Shanna, his pony whining.

    "Thank you for your service." He stated, "The pass is usually more treacherous with raiders and thieves. I could not have counted on Lord Kestens' men on defending me should it have come to a battle in the snow." He reached across and rested a large coin purse into Yash's awaiting hand. The weight of the coins pressed satisfyingly against his palm.

    "If you ever need a sword again," Yash stated with a bow of his head. The guide nodded a few times then lashed his mount so that the horse sprang to life and hurried to catch up with the party heading in the direction of the Lord's castle. Yash then turned to Shanna, whom was wrapped just as tightly in her silver furs as he was. They had traveled far. It was time for them to find shelter from this storm and hopefully warm beds.
 
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Romani said:

  • Jeorg was already having an odd night what with these warriors coming in to raid his ale stocks. To make things stranger he had a decrepit bear head dropped on his counter, which he was in the midst of cleaning. He simply stared at her in disbelief. After giving him her demands, he turned over one of the remaining keys that Thomas had paid for and grumbled to himself. "Krysten! Stew and ale!",he called and turned back to the woman,"You'll leave your blade in your room or you'll have to eat your stew outside" Arjun's beard, is it a full moon tonight?​
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The Holy Knight Clair​

Clair let out a soft sigh as the bartender grumbled away to himself, what kind of insane person reacts in such a way to a bounty of a hundred gold coins? Moving to take her key quickly, Clair only quickly addressed the topic of her blade again "In my room is where it shall stay, unless of course you'd be willing to take it behind that bar of yours".

And so with that said Clair hopped upon the bar stool opposite Jeorg and attempted to make small talk while she awaited her stew and ale. Unfortunately though, her attempt at small talk was short lived fore a bulk of a knight soon approached the dismembered head and began to more or less caress it's tattered hairs. I mean to each their own but seriously!? With the knight soon gone Clair returned to Jeorg and asked quietly "Is he one of your regulars?"
(sorry that this is rushed but I'm a bit stuck for time atm, I'll post later on.)


Romani Romani Cosmo Cosmo
 
Kraghar stared in mild disbelief as the man next to him got his drink after calling the barmaid.

"Oh ye have gotta be tossing me ores about..."

Well, at least he knew who to call now when he needed a drink.

"Oi, barmaid! I don't suppose ye can get me 10 mugs instead of just 1? If I'm gonna drink, then by the iron I'M GONNA DRINK!"

As he waited for his drink, another person joined them at the counter and asked what was worth her coin and saying that she wasn't a local either.

"Me best advice is ta just order what ye think would be nice! Gut instincts and whatnot!"

Roaring happily as the barmaid returns with his mugs of ale, Kraghar downs half of them, a blissful look on his face for a moment. That moment was soon abruptly ended when he looks over to a cloaked person dragging a bear head in. Opting to stay silent first, he watches as the cloaked person makes a deal with the barkeep and loses interest in the matter. He didn't even care much about the next few guests, deciding to focus more on enjoying his remaining 5 mugs of ale.
 
As Lucas is sitting, his stomach starts to growl. Oh yeah, I forgot. I need something to eat. Lucas goes to the bar, but doesn't really sit down. "I would like to get something to eat, and I was wondering if I could eat in my room?" He ask in his scratchy voice. I already have some water to drink. Although ale is tempting. "Of course I don't mean any disrespect to the others in this building, but I would rather eat alone."
 
Malara trudged through the snow with nothing to protect their skin except for the mask over their face. However, since they had trained to be a warrior, they had to be able to work well in all temperatures, so the cold only bothered them slightly. What did bother them was the snowflakes landing on their skin. They could probably drive Malara mad from them leaving her unable to see anything, and the wind didn't allow them to hear anything either. Luckily for them, it was at that point that the lights from a tavern could be seen through the layers of snowy whiteness that brought visibility to nearly nothing. Malara quickened their pace to reach the tavern before any incidents occur.

Soon enough, Malara reached the doors of the tavern and pushed them open only far enough so that they could pass through, then shut it behind them. Some people turned and stared at them, confused, before continuing their drunken humor. Malara went straight towards the barkeeper, who began to speak. "Ain't it a bit cold for your kind?" Now standing in front of him, Malara leaned their spear against the wall, next to what looked like a bear's severed head. "Not really. I've managed out there fairly well. Is there a room I could take for the night?" The barkeeper slid a key across the counter after eyeing both the spear on the wall as well as the bow slung on their shoulder. "Already been payed for. And leave your weapons there." Malara nodded and thanked the man before heading on up to their to store their items. After that, they headed back downstairs and sat at the bar in order to entertain them self with the loud cheerfulness of the singing sailors.
 
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