PLI
Caffeinated
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PLI
Caffeinated
"ALL HANDS, MAKE READY FOR DOCKING! PREPARE TO MOOR AT BASE CAMP"
Aria stirred as the captain bellowed orders to the deckhands, the ship bustling with activity as sails were stowed and lines secured. "Base Camp, eh?" She mused to herself, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. It had been a very long journey from the port of Filman, but the promise of escape and several safe nights' sleep sealed her decision. Better to be in the middle of nowhere than in the hands of those scum, Aria thought to herself dryly.She spotted the towering figure of the quartermaster, his voice booming even louder than the captain's as he directed the cannons to be secured. "And keep those powder kegs dry!" he roared. She lowered her head as he passed, trusting the cowl of her cloak to guise her. She doubted that the mountain of a man would take kindly to a stowaway on his ship. She fell behind a group of adventurers moving towards the front of the deck.
As the ship made contact with the dock, the sound of wood creaking against wood echoed through the air. Aria was quick to join the line of those leaving, her cloak pulled tight around her to ward off the chill. As her boots hit the gravel of Base Camp, she took a deep breath, letting the salty smell of the air wash over her. "Time to figure where I'm at," Aria muttered to herself, eyes lighting up as she spotted an inn: 'The Maiden's Mead.'
BuggaBoo
Bumble🐝Butt~!!
"Silk and Shae" - The Huntress and The Shadow
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At the main entryway into the City...
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"What did it say now to us, my Shadow? Is it insulting to us?" said she in the sharp staccatoed language of the Armeti. Beneath a heavy dark cowl, yellow eyes flashed, still aimed and glowering upon the pair of young helmeted humans.
Several heartbeats passed as the pair of young helmeted humans spoke, spears crossed, barring the Huntress, 'Silk', and her Soul Charged Companion, 'Shae' from entering the 'encampment.'
The dusky lips of the grey skin elf pursed together then she spat upon the ground with distaste. "My Shadow, your Huntress grows impatient."
A low grumble. The pair of young helmeted humans would not understand that he was chuckling, "No need to be so formal, Sil. They are but mere guards posted to keep 'intruders' out despite these 'intruders' stating clearly that these 'intruders' are here from the Proud Armeti Lands to aid them vs. the Corruption."
"Guards? Hmph. They why do they wear their ceremonial garb to meet us if they do not wish to be formal. Humans are such foul things. Do they not kneel before their own huntresses? Pffft. So where do these 'guards' wish to house us then."
"They say that we must remain outside the encampment until we receive an 'official invite'."
"From whom? Whom do we actually know in the dirty human lands? And ewww. Shae can you please tell it to stop making eye contact with me? I should skewer this male where it stands if it does not know its place--"
"Sil. Relax, relax. It does know its place. This is its lands afterall. Human males dominate the females here. It's how they mate."
The Armeti Elf spat, "So it dares to wish to mate with me?! I will kill--"
"Sil. Relax, relax. Hahahahah. It is not trying to dominate nor mount you. It is merely protecting its lands. Like a Terrain Watcher."
"I see. Well if it tries to dominate, I will show it its place. Without its head."
"Sil. Relax, relax. Like I said this is its place."
"Very well. We will not argue with these perverted, disrespectful Watchers. These 'guards.' Tell them to consult their counsil-- better yet their Matriarch. This Huntress wishes audience with Her."
"Sil. They do not have a Matriarch. Most likely they will tell us the same again; 'wait here until you get official invite.'"
"Fine. Then tell them we will be back with proper invite. We will just 'invite' ourselves and enter their encampment by night and find the humans that do need and welcome help from the 'intruders' then. Tell them kneeling before Huntress' is demanded of them next we meet. Lest they be reported and hung over open flame. Cordially of course."
A low grumble that was actually a laugh. Shader relayed most of the message and the pair of guards nodded.
Silk nodded back at them silently before turning, spitting and mounting Shader. As they rode off to find shelter from the bright sun, Silk turned and watched as the pair conversed with each other. Probably discussing how to better treat a Huntress during meeting her.
Actually they were chatting with each other, shaking their heads in disbelief. Neither had ever spoken to a giant talking black shadowy cat before.
MageMantis
New Member
(Sorry for the delay): Barracuda and Tremora stepped off the ship, walking among the crowd departing from the vessel and pouring into the town. Tremora walked with a bounce in her step, her brown tail waved in a relaxed manner as her eyelids rested halfway down. Nearby her, Barracuda marched with an uptight disposition, remaining alert at all times.
Barracuda and Tremora made their way to the Maiden’s Mead, Tremora responding to the nasty stares she received from Human men and women with a wink, whilst Barracuda glared at them from behind his mask. Upon entering the inn, both were met with the soothing scent of candle and the warm orange light of the room. The inn was bustling with activity, the majority of people present being Human. The Catfolk and masked Human went to take a seat in the middle-area of the inn’s dining area and begun conversing. Tremora leaned in her seat, “You ever wonder how Dragons even fly?” Spoke Tremora.
“It’s Magic, Tremora.” Replied the masked Bounty Hunter.
“I mean, yeah, but they’re covered in scales instead of feathers, they don’t have hollow bones, shouldn’t their wings be too heavy to even allow them to take-“
The door to the inn was suddenly kicked open as a party of 6 armed fiends entered. Tremora’s ears perked up as Barracuda instinctively rested his hand on his snap lock pistol. The inn went dead silent, as the seeming leader of the fiends, a 7-foot man wearing brown leather armor shrouded in a black wolf pelt shouted, his voice shaking the entire room, “LISTEN HERE! ALL ELVES, DWARVES, BEASTFOLK, AND OTHER ABOMINATIONS, STAND UP AND LOCATE TO THE LEFT CORNER.” Demanded he, the fiends behind him looking around the room for anybody who wasn’t Human, a single of them armed with a spellbook.
Barracuda and Tremora made their way to the Maiden’s Mead, Tremora responding to the nasty stares she received from Human men and women with a wink, whilst Barracuda glared at them from behind his mask. Upon entering the inn, both were met with the soothing scent of candle and the warm orange light of the room. The inn was bustling with activity, the majority of people present being Human. The Catfolk and masked Human went to take a seat in the middle-area of the inn’s dining area and begun conversing. Tremora leaned in her seat, “You ever wonder how Dragons even fly?” Spoke Tremora.
“It’s Magic, Tremora.” Replied the masked Bounty Hunter.
“I mean, yeah, but they’re covered in scales instead of feathers, they don’t have hollow bones, shouldn’t their wings be too heavy to even allow them to take-“
The door to the inn was suddenly kicked open as a party of 6 armed fiends entered. Tremora’s ears perked up as Barracuda instinctively rested his hand on his snap lock pistol. The inn went dead silent, as the seeming leader of the fiends, a 7-foot man wearing brown leather armor shrouded in a black wolf pelt shouted, his voice shaking the entire room, “LISTEN HERE! ALL ELVES, DWARVES, BEASTFOLK, AND OTHER ABOMINATIONS, STAND UP AND LOCATE TO THE LEFT CORNER.” Demanded he, the fiends behind him looking around the room for anybody who wasn’t Human, a single of them armed with a spellbook.
Nellancholy
Two Thousand Club
The being now answering to the name Nisha Rei staggered to her feet, her steps dragging as she reluctantly disembarked the ship, clearly not excited to be here.
The mild symptoms of seasickness were there, perhaps, though her adaptable physiology was far less affected than a weaker human's might be. What really sickened her was her disappointing turn of fortune. Why, if that bothersome upstart whelp hadn't come forth, she'd still be living the good life! She might even get credit among the other races for tempering the ambitions of the orcs...
Her watery eyes flicked over the horizon, looking for any docked ships that looked like they were about to depart so she could turn right around. No luck.
She stood out a fair bit among the rough and tumble adventurers and pioneers that made up most of the other arrivals, having adopted the guise of a vacationing lady so she could spend some time hiding out wherever she was originally planning to stow away to, before returning to the mainland.
But here she was.
She made her way to the Maiden's Mead, where she wasted no time chasing leads.
"Oh Mr. Bartender, do you think you could part with a glass of the Maiden's finest?"
Drink in hand and one of her last coins traded, she proceeded to seek hearsay from the others present.
"Salutations! Might one have any information regarding upcoming departures from this port? I intended this place to be only one stop along my way..."
She approached a few this way, first the feline woman, then the one with the cloak. Any further investigation was interrupted by the sound of a particularly rude intrusion, several roughhousers apparently seeking out non-humans in the establishment for what were no doubt less than savory plans.
That included her, but they couldn't know that yet. Her gaze rapidly scanned the group, identifying the weakest link. A predator would do so in order to maul and feed on them, but she...used that information a bit differently.
She ambled over to one of the members of the group, pointedly not the one who spoke first. Instead, she touched the arm of a burly but uncertain-looking woman carrying a billhook (to painfully wrangle any of their targets who'd try to flee?).
"Miss, must we resort to such uncouth behavior, in the middle of the day? Surely whatever business you have with elves, dwarves, beastfolk, and...other...abominations can be carried out without such...ghastly instruments. Come now, won't you just let this go...?"
The lilt in the last statement worked its magic on her target, her eyes glazing over for a moment as her grip loosened on her weapon.
That was the opening: hopefully someone else would step in to help defuse the situation, but if it came to a fight, this would still be an advantage, and Nisha would give them a real surprise.
MageMantis
PLI
BuggaBoo
The mild symptoms of seasickness were there, perhaps, though her adaptable physiology was far less affected than a weaker human's might be. What really sickened her was her disappointing turn of fortune. Why, if that bothersome upstart whelp hadn't come forth, she'd still be living the good life! She might even get credit among the other races for tempering the ambitions of the orcs...
Her watery eyes flicked over the horizon, looking for any docked ships that looked like they were about to depart so she could turn right around. No luck.
She stood out a fair bit among the rough and tumble adventurers and pioneers that made up most of the other arrivals, having adopted the guise of a vacationing lady so she could spend some time hiding out wherever she was originally planning to stow away to, before returning to the mainland.
But here she was.
She made her way to the Maiden's Mead, where she wasted no time chasing leads.
"Oh Mr. Bartender, do you think you could part with a glass of the Maiden's finest?"
Drink in hand and one of her last coins traded, she proceeded to seek hearsay from the others present.
"Salutations! Might one have any information regarding upcoming departures from this port? I intended this place to be only one stop along my way..."
She approached a few this way, first the feline woman, then the one with the cloak. Any further investigation was interrupted by the sound of a particularly rude intrusion, several roughhousers apparently seeking out non-humans in the establishment for what were no doubt less than savory plans.
That included her, but they couldn't know that yet. Her gaze rapidly scanned the group, identifying the weakest link. A predator would do so in order to maul and feed on them, but she...used that information a bit differently.
She ambled over to one of the members of the group, pointedly not the one who spoke first. Instead, she touched the arm of a burly but uncertain-looking woman carrying a billhook (to painfully wrangle any of their targets who'd try to flee?).
"Miss, must we resort to such uncouth behavior, in the middle of the day? Surely whatever business you have with elves, dwarves, beastfolk, and...other...abominations can be carried out without such...ghastly instruments. Come now, won't you just let this go...?"
The lilt in the last statement worked its magic on her target, her eyes glazing over for a moment as her grip loosened on her weapon.
That was the opening: hopefully someone else would step in to help defuse the situation, but if it came to a fight, this would still be an advantage, and Nisha would give them a real surprise.
MageMantis
PLI
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