• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.

Novama

One Thousand Club
Intro

02b5874ddf4d917f6fb01de97a34d111.jpg

In this chapter of Isekai Hell, characters Alastair and Izaak find themselves taking shelter from a winter storm at a rest stop in the Ryke countryside. The rest stop is a modest tavern and trading post on the side of the road called Wendy's Trading Post. Ran by matriarch Wendy and her family, guests are able to restock, rest up, and drink up before heading out again on their journeys. Alastair and Izaak, among others, find themselves stuck due to the blizzard for the time being.

It is evening and the fire in the hearth is warm and welcoming. Each time another snow bound guest comes through the door, a wind so cold, you feel it in your bones, blows through the tavern common area. Aside from Wendy and her family (her husband and their 3 daughters), there was a grisled looking middle aged man dirty and injured from his travels. With him was a manacled and chained man with a muzzle. Despite the odd arrangement, noone in the establishment seemed to bat an eye. There was also an old man by a softer chair near the fire. His bald head was scarred and under his thick coat was a large build. At another table was a woman and three men. One of the daughters played a violin softly while another daughter went between the guests serving drinks or warm stew from the pot being stirred by Wendy. Wendy's husband and their third daughter were still in the stables connected to the tavern by a 2nd floor walk way.

It now falls to Alastair, Izaak, and anyone else that joins to decide how they will spend their evening in this cozy yet somber place.

OOC: It is evening and the outside makes it unfit for travel. Rp will revolve around the events of the characters' evenings until sunrise the next day. Move you characters about as you see fit. I'll play the world and the npc's.
Mentions: Sam136 Sam136 Weazel Weazel
 
Last edited by a moderator:
His journey had not been off to a good start. The sudden yet vicious blizzard had ground his travels to a halt.


It posed an ill omen for his journey. Perhaps he really ought to have stayed back. Lord and Lady Stalfatt had insisted heavily on him waiting at least a little longer. Perhaps this was the punishment for refusing the wishes of one's sires.


It was what it was. His reasons were vain and weak yet he could not help himself. He had to move forward. It was the best way to fulfil the great debt placed on him.

And he couldn't bear to stay longer.


Further thoughts are cast aside as Alastair spots a light in the distance.


Shelter.


If memory served right there should be tavern in around this general area. Hopefully this was it, otherwise he'd have to make alternative arrangements.


After some moments of travel he arrives and his hopes had been answered. At least some good had come of this wretched day.


Wasting not a moment further the young noble carefully opens the door and walks on in. For a moment he considers immediately slamming the door shut but changes his mind and gently closes it despite the dagger like wind piercing his body. Even in an old tavern no one knows about he would act as befitting his station. The stelfatt name would be beyond reproach if it were up to him.


That done he surveils his surroundings. It seems he was not alone, others had taken shelter here just as he intended to. His eyes narrow, staring at the chained down man. He would be asking about them soon. He was no Knight yet but to leave an innocent to suffer was unacceptable.


Alastair forces himself not sigh. He hopes that the tavern has a good reason. He does not wish to start a fight right now.


Finally, he walks forward towards a woman. An older yet still healthy woman. Judging from the way she was ordering everyone around she was likely the one in charge around here.


"Woman. Get me a meal to warm myself and a room for the night"


Is what Alastair wishes he could say but such would be beneath him so he pulls out his well practiced smile (smile no. 37 to be precise) and begins talking like a true gentleman.


"Good day my lady. It seems the weather today has been particularly cruel to us travellers. If it would not trouble you madam I would request lodgings for the night and a hot meal to warm myself"


With that said Alastair looks around the tavern for a place to sit. He pointedly does not frown or glare when he sees that others had already taken the seats closest to the fire. All his discontent and annoyance is hidden behind a calm smile as always.


Oh yeah he almost forgot.


"Sorry to trouble you madam but if it would please you I am most curious about that… guest of yours"


He says pointing to the chained down man.
 
Winter came early and hard in this part of the country. Usually, Izaak would’ve had time to grow a thicker coat of winter fur before the first serious snowfall, or at least be able to procure some thicker winter clothes. Instead, he was still in, well, his usual ensemble. The chill in the air, which normally made him feel alive, was beginning to seriously bite. He’d been able to smell the coming storm before it reached him, its scents carried on the breeze along with the first few hints of snow flurries. It was going to be a bad one, so he’d given up his attempts to hunt something nice for dinner, unstrung his bow and shouldered his modest bag, and returned to the main trade road in the hopes of finding some sort of way station to take shelter in.

He wasn’t fast enough, unfortunately. Though it was still daytime – if late in the evening – the thick clouds and driving snow cut visibility down to near nothing. The driving snow quickly began to pile up, and the howling wind threatened to bowl him over with every snow filled gust. And he wasn’t a small target, being both tall and somewhat broad. Were he not made of sterner stuff – if he’d had the constitution he’d had in his old life – he wouldn’t have made it. As it was, eventually the glowing lights of a roadside tavern cut through the gloom, encouraging him to quicken the pace these last few yards.

Like every other customer that night, Izaak’s appearance on the scene was announced by the howling wind and blowing snow that accompanied his entrance to the tavern. He turned fully sideways and shouldered the door closed behind him, more to keep it from catching his tail than anything else. With two lives worth of memories swirling around in his head, things sometimes got muddy, and more than once he’d forgotten he’d had the appendage until reminded by a sharp jolt of pain up his backside when he’d inevitably either sat on it or closed something on it.. He dropped his bag beside him, and shook – yes, like a dog – the snow from his fur. Wolven weren’t common in this part of the country, and usually such actions earned him more than a few stares, but honestly, he was too cold to be embarrassed at the moment.

In any case, now that he was finished making a scene, he picked up his things and took them with him to an open table. Only then did he finally take the time to study the motley collection he found himself in the company of. His ears followed the sound of music to its source: a violinist, Izaak could only imagine the cost of such a specialized instrument in this world. Next, his nose lead him to the smells of warm food, carefully prepared by an older woman – presumably the tavernkeeper – and brought to customers by a younger woman who looked enough like the older to be her daughter, and both carried a resemblance to the violinist as well. The smell of food made his stomach growl, reminding him he'd been interupted by the weather before he could enjoy dinner. Finally, his eyes settled on the shackled and muzzled man and his companion. A criminal and the lawman taking him in, perhaps? He'd ended up at a table relatively close to them.

There were others around, of course. It seemed a fair amount of people had been caught out in the storm, and Izaak could catch snippets of casual conversation amongst them, occasionally carried his way. One of them, a well dressed, white haired human who was apparently feeling particularly nosy, had approached the tavernkeeper and was asking her about the manacled man. Okay, Izaak had to admit he was curious about it as well. He leaned forward in his chair and propped his elbows up on the table, trying to look casual as he clasped his paws in front of him and rested his muzzle on them. He focused on the chained man in particular, allowing the rest of the room to fade to the periphery.

Appraisal was a strange skill. It was something he’d learned he could do around the time he’d first remembered his previous life. Had it not been for that, and the and all the new knowledge floating around his head he’d never learned as a Wolven, he’d’ve been tempted to dismiss the memories of his human life as a bizarre fever dream he’d had. At first, it had been hard to make sense of the strange words he'd find floating around people. Later, he'd learned that he could make them come into sharper focus, or fade away entirely as if they were never there. Now he called them into focus, trying to get a good look at just what they could tell him about the shackled man. If the man was a criminal, well, so be it, Izaak couldn’t do anything about that without being branded one himself. If not, though, he might just have to take steps to see that injustice undone.
 
Time: 8:00 pm
Weather: freezing, very windy, heavy snow
Mentions: Weazel Weazel Sam136 Sam136
OOC: Feel free to not double space every sentence. Default appraisal is short range so we will assume Izaak is close to target. Feel free to put your names somewhere noteable on the post so it's easier to find names when referencing characters. Same goes for using each others' names in post. Even if the character doesn't know the other, the reader and author both know, so just use names where possible to make it clear who you are referring to. Is more important in bigger group rp's.

Wendy's Trading Post

artworks-000122623650-gtbbig-t500x500.jpg

Izaak and Alastair both drew eyes and the ire of those sitting in the previously warm common room. When the door was shut and the wind was settled, folks hunkered down lower in their seats and pulled coats tighter as they tried to get back to their warmth and comfort. They even mostly ignored Izaak's animalistic display of shaking himself out. There was a couple fellows that could help but notice as they were facing the door. One was a beast man like Izaak and the other was a Fae. Both gave Izaak disapproving looks. It could also be noted both wore typical humanoid clothes and exercised socially acceptable manners when eating, drinking, and conversing even if they were rough around the edges and wouldn't pass in an establishment of more decorum. The difference between eating with the pigs and eating with the pigs that wore clothes.

"GGRAH!!"

Came the guttural cry of the shackled man as he instantly rose and rushed front check/ram Alastair. Just before making contact, the grizzled handler muttered something and ripped hard on the chain he carried. It immediately went taught and the restrained man was immediately pulled back and forcefully flopped on his back. Some more curses later, the middle aged man came over and yanked the chained man to his feet before pulling him back to the table they were previously occupying. While the chained man flipped back and forth between laughing and growling behind his muzzle, the man in charge berated him between curses and cuffed him a few types. It was now noticeable that the chained man was in a similar state of disarray as the middle aged man, showing signs of struggle and fighting.

Wendy urged Alastair to side step the situation and move with her to the side near the pot she had been stirring.

"That would be a bounty hunter and his bounty. Supposedly, the man in chains is Harold the MadHatter, a wanted murderer and the bounty hunter is D Rank Adventurer Castle. They are a rowdy pair, but are assure you the food is warm, filling, and good and the bed will be comfortable too. Denise!"

Wendy called to her daughter who stopped serving some of the others to approach. Quick with a smile and obedient to her mother she led Alastair to the table where Izaak sat.

"Why don't you boys share a table. I'm afraid their are not many to go around, but nothing beats a cold evening like company and stories. I'll fetch you some stew and drink in a bit."

Meanwhile, Izaak was able to use appraisal on the chained man when he lunged for Alistair. The ability flashed various things of note, but curiously about half of this "MadHatter"'s information was blurry and unable to be deciphered. He was indeed the MadHatter according to one of his titles. He was also clearly a murderer, thief, abuser, and much more. Powerful, sturdy, and quick, had it not been for the bounty hunter and his chain, Alastair likely would have been in a world of hurt or so Izaak may be able to piece together.

The commotion had caused the violinist to stop, but once everyone was back in their seats, she started to play and roam the establishment again. The tune was meant to be more subduing than lively now. Eventually, Denise returned with food and drink for Alastair and Izaak.

29a2cc503abc0fa2cf0078385a9e9a43.jpg
2c037e69633a24006f9a5af9007386ea.jpg
 
Izaak
Wendy's. Interactions: Sam136 Sam136

Izaak didn’t pay the other beastfolk any mind, and especially didn’t pay attention to the Fae. Hell, the beastfolk’s disapproval almost made him want to act out even more than he already was. One of the things he’d learned since leaving home was that humans and their ilk would look badly on him regardless of what he did. He could try and conform all he wanted, but he could never live up to their standards. They’d always see him as something lesser than, as something base, an animal, no better than livestock. So he might as well be comfortable with himself, because he surely wasn’t going to get any positive reinforcement from the rest of the world. Maybe someday the other beastfolk would learn that too. They’d probably live a happier, freer life once they had.

In any case, his first attempt to study the chained man was interrupted when the man practically flew out of his seat to try and attack the white haired questioner. His companion quite literally reeled him back in from the end of a long chain. Though given the bounty hunter’s apparent lethargy, Izaak certainly didn’t want to be anywhere near the pair the next time the chained man made a go at running. Hopefully this snowstorm would quit soon, and they could all be on their way. Of course, his luck rarely worked out that way, but Izaak could be hopeful.

His second attempt at Appraising the chained man went much better. The words flitted around faster than he could catch them in many cases, twirling around the man they were associated with, peaking around him only to fly back out of sight before he could get a good read on them. What he was able to catch definitely suggested a man of the sort the tavern proprietor described. Though, if the man was actually insane, as his moniker seemed to suggest, it was almost tragic the way his life had turned out. Just another way this word was backwards, the man had clearly needed help that could not be given to him, and this was the result.

He was broken from his thoughts when the white haired man was sat down next to him. Well, that was certainly a choice, nice that he wasn’t even asked Izaak blinked, the words flying around the so called ‘Mad Hatter’ disappearing. He sat back in his chair, turning his focus from the criminal to his enforced companion for this evening. The man was certainly dressed ritzy, his clothes also notably lacking the usual wear and tear that suggested a long time on the road. All the same, they seemed to be traveling by themselves. Either brave or foolish, and either way unlikely to be really prepared for the road ahead. For now, though, Izaak remained quiet, merely nodding thanks to the server when she brought drinks and food.

The smell of food so close by caused his stomach to roar to life again, reminding him just how hungry he actually was. Well, no reason to turn down food, especially now that it was right in front of him. He picked up the bowl of stew, and brought it up to his muzzle to drink.
 
Alastair's words and thoughts are quickly interrupted as that crazy old coot shows him exactly why he was chained like a rabid dog.

Far faster than he ever expected the man leaps towards him.

'I need to defend myself'

Heart pumping, blood rushing, pupils dilating Alastair steps back gaining distance. At just a cursory glance his foe was obviously beyond him.

He didn't intend to go down without fight.

The gem on his glove starts to glow.

Cold wind that stabs like steel-

And that's when the bounty hunter yanks on their chain and pulls away the deranged fool. The small glow on his glove quickly dims.

Fucking bastard.

Alastair quickly wipes out the snarl on his face and turns back to the woman. His expression is more disappointment than the petty rage he's feeling.

"I can see what you meant miss. It's a good thing there's men who'll keep people like that in check"

And with that said Alastair tosses her an extra coin.

"Send them a drink, on me"

Hopefully that'll give them some incentive to keep that old man away from Alastair.

'And I'm done. That seems like enough talking for the day no? OK probably not but I can't be bothered'

And that's how he had been tricked. That treacherous woman had done what he'd wished she'd never do. She had told him to sit with someone else.

Now what Alastair wanted to do was ignore that and pick a seat all alone and eat his meal in peace. Sadly the Stelfatt heir couldn't be a grouchy loner, he was supposed to be friendly and charming.

That's how he takes a seat at the strangers table.

He had no choice now. He would have to make small talk or risk an awkward silence or being seen as rude.

Alastair takes a look at his neighbour and just now notices that they aren't even human but rather a wolven. Actually... how did he even miss that? He really shouldn't get so caught up in his thoughts, at least not so much that he misses an entire wolf person thing.

"Alastair Stelfatt here. Nice to meet you stranger. Sorry to bother you but I thought I'd give some company, I personally believe that a meals best shared with friends"

Lies. Complete and utter lies but no one cares.

"You're a Wolven correct? Are you a traveller? I'll admit I've not met many in my life so that's why I'm wondering. Would you happen to be heading to the capital?"

There. He'd done it. He'd talked. Yes he could have done better but he just came out of a godforsaken blizzard. He's not going to bother being as eloquent and charming as a first class bard.

And with that said their food arrives.

'Finally', Alastair thinks as he grabs his plate and moves it closer.

He turns towards the waitress and gives her a small smile in gratitude. Away from the old and her mother Alastair finally gets a good look at the young girl, Denise he thinks the name was. He hadn't really noticed but she really was quite beautiful.

Alastair quickly turns away before she notices his blush.

What was he doing? He's nobility, and here he was being drawn to a peasant. Another consequence of reincarnation it seems, you go through puberty twice.

God he can't wait to grow up again… actually he never did reach adulthood in his last life.



Yeah he's not interested in moping around, he's just going to eat.

And then Alastair notices the Wolven again. Oh yeah, he had company. Company that saw him act like a schoolgirl and then zone out for a moment.

"How's the food?", he says, hoping to fill in the awkward silence.
 
Last edited:
Izaak
Wendy's. Interactions: Sam136 Sam136

This was a talkative one, apparently. He had that sort of posh accent that, matched with his fancy clothes, definitely seemed to suggest a more well off upbringing. Izaak, on the other hand, spoke with a sort of gruffness that was hard to shake, though occasionally his soft-spoken previous life bled through. Well, either way, Izaak’s silent offer to a quiet dinner had been well and truly shot down. Interestingly, the man – he introduced himself as Alastair – talked as if it had been his choice to join the Wolven for the evening. Izaak was fairly certain that it was actually the waitress that had decided that particular arrangement. A compulsive lie? An accidental slip of the tongue? Did this Alastair have anything to gain from being overly friendly?

Izaak allowed Alastair to ramble until after he’d drained most of the broth from his stew, setting the bowl down again and lazily plucking a bit of meat out with his claws and tossing it in his mouth while his dining companion ogled the waitress. He really wanted to quip at Alastair’s expense – ‘take a picture, it’ll last longer,’ or something of that sort – but he very much doubted the other man had the requisite context to understand what he meant. Did this world even have the camera obscura? Maybe in the big cities? Not for the first time since remembering his old life, he found himself cursing his new, rural, upbringing.

That was enough self reflection, though, it appeared his companion had realized he was still here. After every other question he’d barraged Izaak with, Alastair’s last – a simple ‘how’s the food?’ – seemed almost lame. Izaak carefully pierced another piece of meat between two claws, before flicking it into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully before answering.

“Warm, and filling, though perhaps a little unrefined for someone of your palate,” Izaak stated simply. More accurately, it was salty as hell and tough despite the time it’d spent soaking. It wasn’t bad, per say, it was clear the chef was doing her best with the resources available to her. One of the problems with remembering his previous life was that he missed all the little conveniences of modernity. Really, the only benefit his own cooking had over this is that he could eat fresh, without having to cure the meat for later consumption. He sighed, figuring he might as well give the man something more substantial than just that, “You must excuse me, humans do not often seek me out for pleasant conversation.”

To be honest, Izaak was dying for some intellectual stimulation. It was the kind a rare few conversation partners in this world could give. He had to limit himself to the kinds of things a person living in a medieval fantasy story might be aware of, and he couldn’t lean on common cultural touch points, since his Wolven upbringing had been somewhat… Isolated.

“You may call me Izaak. You are correct, I am a Wolven. My travels are currently taking me in that direction, but I do not know if I shall head all the way to the capital. The reception I’ve gotten this far out of my peoples’ home territory has been… Chilly.” That was everything the man had asked him, right? He believed so, at least. Well, it was probably proper to ask him something in response, “And yourself? What brings you out of your ivory tower?”

He injected a bit of levity into that last statement, trying to let the man know he didn’t mean anything harsh by it. Just a little light ribbing between dinner companions.
 
They saw nothing. Good. With his mind at ease Alastair finally sees his companion. No, not in the literal way rather he starts to see what kind of person they are. There's something about them, they don't give off the impression of some of the more simple-minded people he's met. If anything they look bored.

Oh. He'd asked about the food. He'd rather forgotten about it in his observations. Looking down at the food and thinking back to what he'd had not too long ago in his home Alastair can definitely agree with the Wolven's words. He's not one one complain, food is food and he was a regular person before he was a noble.

Following along with their conversation Alastair can feel a pang of empathy for the stranger. To be rejected by those who should accept you, it is never easy.

"It is a shame, honestly. To judge a race before ever meeting them, I find it astonishing how close minded people can be. There's so much you could learn and find out. The fact they're so different… isn't it interesting? I don't understand how they're not fascinated. How they aren't curious about the differences in life, culture and practices"

Alastair was also a nerd before he was a noble. Even though his life in this new world had been… complicated to say the least he was still fascinated. Now that he was speaking to one of the unique denizens of it some of that old innocent curiosity was resurfacing.

"Though it seems I'm getting ahead of myself, friend. You may refer to me as Alastair Stelfatt, Son of Baron Jeremiah Stelfatt. As for why I'm travelling? I'm on my way to the Academy in Ryke"

Alastair pauses for a moment to take a bite of his food. Carefully picking up the meat and making slow, deliberate bites he washes it off with some drink.

"If you wish to know further than I shall oblige you. I intend to study and train so that I may bring honour to my family and further the glory of our name. The first step in that journey is for me train and finally earn the title of Knight"
 
Izaak
Wendy's. Interactions: Sam136 Sam136

This man was… Certainly laying it on thick. There was something unnatural about Alastair. He was stiff, and seemed at times ready to crumble in on himself, only to snap back and lather on the overt friendliness. It was more than a little disconcerting, all things considered. Plus, the way he talked, the words seemed sympathetic, but there was something off about them as well. Rather than commiserating, Alastair seemed to view Izaak as less of a beast and more of a scientific curio.

“I’d much prefer to be treated like anyone else, thanks,” he huffed, plucking another bit of food out of his bowl to munch on, “I am not a bauble to be studied.”

It made sense that Alastair might think of him in those terms, though. He did reintroduce himself as a noble, son of some baron. That went a bit further than Izaak had been considering, the Wolven having only considered the possibility of some rich merchant’s son, not some little lordling far away from his father’s keep. And on the way to the capital to study at the local academy to study for knighthood, too. The usual path of squiring for another knight not good enough for the nobility of this realm, then? Or, did they do that here at all? He really shouldn’t just assume one-to-one similarity to the actual age of chivalry.

More to the point though, Alastair seemed very free with information, at least as long as it was self-aggrandizing. Izaak had not asked the man his field of study, or his reasons for seeking such a profession as knighthood. His reasoning was suitably selfish, befitting a nobleman. Personal glory and honor for his family. Was this the kind of man Izaak wanted protecting the weak and downtrodden? Not really, but it was depressingly common in this world as it had been in is own.

“Surely, a good marriage would be better for that?” Izaak asked, carefully, “The pretty daughter of the local count, for example. Consolidate her lands with yours upon her father’s death, and greatly expand your domain. Then you angle your own child for a chance with the children of the duke of the realm. This is the common path up the chain of nobility, yes?”

He made a vague spinning gesture with his paw in the air, "To be a Knight… This requires a certain degree of self sacrifice. To be a shining beacon, an icon for the common people. Someone who helps the helpless. It is not a responsibility lightly taken,” he shrugged, and leaned back in his chair. “But I’m just a wolf from the southern forests. I suppose I do not truly know your customs.”
 
Huh?! What kind of suggestion was that?! Izaak's words finally provoke a completely and utterly honest response from Alastair.

"No! Never!", he ends up almost yelling before realising where he is.

Chastised by the stares he continues at a lower volume.

"I… I… well… that's not right", he's honestly mumbling now. The person Izaak is talking to is practically unrecognisable now. Without even trying Izaak broke his facade of confidence revealing the true interior.

"To marry someone for their land and to use one's own children as pawns. That's… unacceptable! I… can understand marrying someone for less than pure reasons but to simply see them as a tool for one's own success… that's wrong... that's just wrong"

Alastair pushes away his food, uneasy at the assumption Izaak had made. Did he really appear like such a scumbag to people. Despite his grand proclamations he's honestly just a teenager, a boy trying in his own way to make his family proud.

He shakes his head and tries to muster his persona back but despite his best efforts it's to no avail. He honestly can't be bothered to try anymore.

"You're right honestly. That is how most go about it. I don't intend to though. I'm doing this for my family, if I sacrifice and use my future children for such a thing than that's defeating the whole purpose"

"And honestly, I want to actually earn something myself you know? So much in this life has just been given to me I want to work for and achieve something through my own- actually why am I telling you all this?"

Izaak's words had unintentionally rattled Alastair but all things must end and the young boy realised he was beginning to tell a complete stranger his life's story.

"Look, forget about whatever I just said. I'm sorry for treating you like some specimen, I didn't mean anything by it. I'll also admit that I was talking just to maintain appearances, I honestly prefer silence"

With that blunt end to the conversation Alastair grabs his plate again and slowly starts to eat. His appetite is gone but he just wants a distraction.

After some awkward silence, he speaks abruptly and without warning.

"I'll say one last thing though. You have a romantic view of knights but it is a naive view. Who cares why someone saves an innocent if at the end of the day they've been saved? Whether out of greed or pride they get to live another day"

The cats out of the bag, may as well go all in and reveal their actual thoughts on knighthood.
 
- Kansan Aetos, aka Ventus -

It was one thing to wander the land during the cold autumn months wearing naught but loose cloth and baggy pants, but to traipse around during a howling blizzard with little to protect ones skin from potential frostbite was another mistake entirely. The blizzard had come quite suddenly for the wandering Yaksha Ventus, who needed to find somewhere to warm up and hopefully procure a coat of some description for future use. Though visibility was low and the cold was so biting that the pain was almost all he could focus on, Ventus was able to spot lights in the distance; likely a tavern or some other local establishment meant to grant succor to passing travelers.

Whatever it was, it would have to do and was likely better than dying unceremoniously in the freezing cold, so he made haste and hurried in the direction of the building, now clearly a tavern as he got closer, rushing towards the door and opening it quite hastily. The closing of said door required a bit more effort thanks to the wind, but he was able to shut it faster than most arrivals. Letting out a sharp exhale and shaking off the snow that had gathered on his mostly bare arms, Ventus shivered despite his attempts to remain stoic, flicking off an icicle that had gathered upon his left shoulder's pauldron.

"They'd better have a coat or something. I'm not going out there like this again...stupid, I should've been prepared." Ventus mused to himself mentally as he motioned towards the burning hearth, holding out his hands over its soothing warmth, his breaths were ragged and shivering, but his posture was still straight as a board and his expression was almost stoic with the occasional break in the mask thanks to just how godsdamned cold he was. So focused on warmth that he hadn't paid attention to anyone in particular around him, so anyone approaching him, wench or otherwise, would catch him off guard.
 
Akasi Ashvins

After getting himself settled and into some dry clothes, Akasi followed his nose and made his way down to the common area where most of the guests had gathered. Although wrapped in a thick hempen cloak, the weather remained relentless and bone-chilling, Akasi could've sworn that the aroma the stew was giving off was warming not only his body, but mind and soul. Akasi couldn't help but laugh at himself for such hallucinations; he must've been hungrier than he thought.

With a delectable bowl in each hand, Akasi was ready to have his fill of some mouthwatering stew. On a chilly winter night, it definitely was best if he had his meal beside the warm hearth. Unfortunately, it wasn't the most creative idea as many others had thought the same.

While looking for an empty table, Akasi's eyes trailed to one of the more unique guests that was without company. As the masked fae continued to stare deeply into the soothing fire, Akasi slowly approached him and made his presence known.

"Scuse me, friend." He didn't want to startle him. "You see, I've got one bowl too many. Would you want one?" Akasi smiled, trying his best to come across as friendly and approachable.

"I'm not giving it away for free though." He chuckled as he took a seat by a nearby table. "I don't take ryke, but I certainly would love a good story."

Placing the other steaming bowl across him. "Oh yeah. A little late on the introductions, but my name's Akasi. Akasi Ashvins."

Interactions: Kansan Aetos, aka Ventus ( Nero Kunivas Nero Kunivas )
 
LINNEUS LIGHT

sQaQZkwK2as5sGb9NKrpev8-2YZ3RX_s9LMvySxQ_fHJPKs78ENpOgJXOtXYqyIodQqKiDKMntM2Vkco3p9wLtGG7l9AMwRtYxwbf964pwyaYipdvJANoMTgPWtfhdN4OUixa1su
Interactions: Novama Novama

Winter...the worst season of all by far, in Linneus opinion anyway. Glancing out the window of his carriage, which was moving incredibly slow, he noted the difficultly the horses were having in the snow storm, and the shivering of his coachman and knights. "Gods I hate this weather." The young Baron swore before he pulled the curtain close and leaned back into his seat. Even in the carriage he was wrapped in his fur-lined cloak and a blanket. It made his heart heavy to know his entourage was suffering the weather head on.

"Ugh damn it." The curtain was drawn once more and he slid the window open right after. "Any sign of an inn up ahead?!" Linneus called out of the sharp winds and blinding snow.

"Pardon, my Lord?!" The knight quickly replied, not hearing what was said. He rushed closer to the window and pulled down his hood. "Don't do that you idiot!" Linneus quickly scolded before he reached out the window and pulled the man's hood back up over his head. "Find us an inn! Somewhere to stop!" The Baron shouted once more. When the knight nodded his head, Linneus slammed the window shut and wrapped his arm back up in the blanket.

The knight rushed ahead to the coachman and the two struggled to read an old map for several minutes before one pointed out the tavern not far down the road. Not too long later, the heavy carriage was parked beside the tavern and the door to the establishment was thrown open.

Along with the icy wind and snow came the clanking of armored men and women, an old coachman, and a well dressed noble clad in fur. As they entered the building and the door was closed behind them, Linneus removed the black hood from his head and brushed the snow out of his short hair. "Thank the gods we made it." He said before he brought his hands to his mouth and started to exhale heavily on them. His shivering appendages were a clear sign that he was freezing despite being wrapped in several layers of fur.

"I'll procure us a room and food, my Lord." Said Alanna before she removed her helmet and made her way to the bar. She was the only female knight in Linneus' service, but she was just as tough if not tougher than her fellow knights. "I'll go see about a stable for the horses, sir." Announced Willford, the haggard coachman. He had worked for Linneus' father and his father before him. Even being as old as he was, he never took a sick day.

While those two went to make sure they were able to stay the night in comfort, Linneus and the rest of his entourage eyed the rest of the tavern. Certainly a mixed crowd with some unsavory faces scattered about. But he tried not to judge others, so he said nothing to anyone.

"Excuse me ma'am. I'm traveling with Lord Linneus Light and we need accommodations for seven for the night." Alanna said as she leaned on the counter top and set her helmet down beside her. "Ahem, make that nine." Said Willford as he approached. "Two horses that need shelter too madam." The old man declared.

Linneus finally started to remove his gloves and the knights that surrounded him removed their hoods and helmets as well, finally feeling the warmth of the tavern on their skin.
 
61d1712bb2ad211b6647b5acc4e1086e.jpg
FInnegan Huttman
"What a cold miserable day!" A young man came barging in from the white outside, quickly closing the door behind him. The mirthful hearth within was all the comfort he needed after such a horrid venture... Just how lost was he? the trail of a job went cold, quite literally and now he was lost in a snowstorm with no direction, well, he was anyways. Thankfully this abated with the appearance of this lovely tavern.

And inside was a wondrous sight, a lively fire, violinist who was a joy to the ear and eye and... My that was a few characters in here.

Should he has tried a different building? No.. If others are sheltering here it was his bets bet as well. Plus, he had an appetite to whet. Though he doesn't have much.. Surely they wouldn't turn him away from abit of stew no?

A big old smile could help!

He shook the extra snow off his shoulders, cleaned off his cape and lowered his hood, revealing reddened ears and a rosey face from the chill. An oddness in the air escaped him, but he kept walking on in and finding a seat... Hmm.. people were talking there now... He couldn't possibly be so rude to join them so quickly, he needed something to sort of wiggle his way into a conversation, what about those fellows..? they seemed to be talking about something...

..Hmm... Could he let those words stand...? thoughts on knighthood... it was his goal, of course so...

Bah, what for it.

"Dear sir, I must protest, couldn't help but over hear. As one who desires to become a knight I cannot agree fully on that sentiment sir. it is true that many go about such a life for fame and monetary benefit, but it is the ideals of a knight that should stand strongly nonetheless. ideals can't be eaten but the goodness that comes from them fill the heart, to be certain." he finishes off with a small bow.

"Finnegan Huttman, knight errant and to be. a pleasure to meet you both, sorry for intruding, I couldn't help but wish to give my two rykes. But it is true, in the end, good is good, despite it's reasons, if it doesn't lead to greater evils in one's heart and soul." The knight to be seemed to beam with a smile, even if the topic was abit dour.

Sam136 Sam136 Weazel Weazel
 
Last edited:
- Kansan Aetos, aka Ventus -

The sudden approach of Akasi stunned Ventus out of his heat-seeking stupor, causing him to jump slightly, then let out a sigh. "I shouldn't have jumped at that...had you meant me harm, I'd be finished for letting my guard down." Ventus spoke in a hushed tone steeped in frustration, though he soon trailed off when he realized he still had his Yaksha Mask on, having donned it as a last ditch effort to ward off the cold during his travels. By slowly waving his hand over his mask, it would begin to dematerialize and reemerge hanging upon Ventus's belt in a green flash. Giving an aside glance to Akasi, he remained silent as the man went on and on, making his way over to a table and offering a bowl to Ventus.

A total stranger, offering him food, warmth and stimulating conversation? Ventus would be lying if he said he was against the idea, but he was still a little apprehensive, mostly due to how taken aback he was...on the inside. Outside, his expression barely changed as he cautiously meandered over to the free chair, slowly taking a seat. Looking down to the bowl of stew, Ventus could deny his hunger and need for further warmth no longer, gently taking it in his hands with a light grasp, primarily supporting it with just his fingers alone, Ventus brought the bowl up to his mouth, taking a lengthy sip. The warmth was soothing enough to make him close his eyes for a short moment, but he soon snapped them open again, as to keep his guard up. Putting down the bowl, still containing a good deal of the stew, it was clear Ventus wished to savour the flavour and the meal itself.

With a quiet smack of his lips and a slow inhale, Ventus kept eye contact with Akasi and spoke in a less hushed tone, yet still there was a growl behind his voice.

"Ventus." He uttered succinctly. "I am a Guardian Yaksha." Quickly brushing aside a stray bit of hair, which would likely draw Akasi's attention to the teal undertones of his hair, Ventus went on. "You want a story...? I'm no storyteller, nor do I have anything you'd find fascinating." Ventus frowned for a moment as he finished talking, then relaxed his expression before taking another quick sip of stew.

Interactions: o3o o3o - Akasi Ashvins
 
Izaak
Wendy's. Interactions: Sam136 Sam136 Orikanyo Orikanyo

And there it was. His careful prodding had born fruit, and Izaak finally got his first glimpse at what this Alastair character really was all about. Izaak watched him quietly, carefully as he sputtered and spat, conceding the Wolven’s point before trying to defend himself all the same. Claiming to want to bring honor to his family name, but at the same time make something of himself, and apparently viewing the life of knighthood as the best path to both. He ended on some weak point calling Izaak naive, asking why it mattered if someone did something so long as the result was good in the end.

While they’d been having their little conversation, the tavern had begun to become far more crowded. Among others, an actual group of knights barged into the place, almost as if summoned by their discussion. Hell, a whole Lordship came by the tavern with his retinue – Izaak had to wonder just how often something of that nature happened. This did seem to be a fairly major trade road, and the weather was particularly bad.

Of particular note, an orange haired human invited himself to barge in on the conversation. This man – introducing himself as Finnegan – also laid on the pleasantries overly thickly. Maybe not so fake as Alastair had presented himself to be, but there was still something about this new arrival that reminded Izaak of his first conversation partner. He looked between the pair of them, his expression passive, picking more meat out of his bowl.

“Certainly, when the goals of honor and glory happen to coincide with protecting innocent life, that’s all well and good,” he began, carefully, “Allow me, though to propose the two of you a scenario. There is a famine, and your Liege-Lord’s demands of tax have become too burdensome for his peasant serfs. They are starving, and they revolt. Your lord demands you put down the rebellion, and bring him the heads of the ringleaders as proof, so he may display them as warning to the rest.”

He held out one paw, and then the other. “On the one hand, to disobey your lord would bring terrible dishonor to your name and family. On the other hand, to do as he says demands the taking of innocent life. What is a knight to do?”

Izaak shrugged, and leaned back in his chair again, “Or, say, His Majesty the King puts out a call to all the knights of the realm; his daughter has been kidnapped by a bandit. You track the pair down, only to discover that the so called bandit is the princess’s lover. She claims her father abuses her, and intends to wed her to a far off prince against her will in the hopes of scoring a major political alliance. All she wants is to live free with the person she loves. Will you take her back to her father? Or would you lie to His Majesty, and accept his punishment for your ‘failure to find his beloved daughter’?”

He held up a finger, “And, one more, if I may. A simple one, I promise. You, and an elderly man are accosted by bandits. If you run, you will most certainly survive, for the old man could not hope to move near as quick as you, and the bandits will be too distracted dealing with him to hunt after you. But if you stand and fight, you will save the old man, and most certainly die an ignoble – and anonymous – death in his place. Would you give up your life for his?”

Not that he really thought his hypotheticals would have any effect on either would-be-knight. Izaak was many things, but a great persuader was not one of them. Still, he might as well let them choose to hash out what he said or ignore it completely as they liked. After all, like he said, he was just a simple wolven.
 
Akasi Ashvins
Interactions:
Kansan Aetos, aka Ventus ( Nero Kunivas Nero Kunivas )

Catching a glimpse across the table, Akasi was pleased to see that Ventus's skin, at least what little of it that was visible, started to gain a bit of color as the pallor began to faintly fade.

Mirroring his teal-haired acquaintance, Akasi partook of some soup himself. The mix of meat, vegetable, and spices made a savory slurry that filled Akasi's mouth with a medley of flavor before warming his entire body. What meant to be a short sip, turned into a hearty gulp. More than satisfied with his meal, Akasi slowly blew out, trying to rid his mouth of the excess heat from the stew.

"Well, let me say that its a pleasure to meet you, Ventus."

Not having a cup to raise, Akasi nodded and briefly lifted his bowl instead to as a friendly gesture.

Bringing the raised bowl back to his mouth for seconds, Akasi tried his best to understand the fae he was sharing a meal with. Although he showed some hesitancy, Ventus didn't outright refuse Akasi's offer. He didn't appear to be completely against socializing, but he was certainly a bit aloof. Not wanting to appear as he was prying, Akasi decided to take a more open-ended approach.

"Ahh!" He forcefully exhaled, his lips pursed as his cheeks joyfully perked up.

"Not fascinating? Ya don't need to worry about." His words were filled with delight as he chuckled. "Pardon my ignorance though, but what's a Guardian Yaksha? It the first I've heard of it."

Akasi leaned backwards, his back resting against the rickety wooden chair he sat on. Opposite to Ventus, he smiled in silence, gleefully waiting for a response from the fae.
 
Last edited:
- Kansan Aetos, aka Ventus -

"Hmph." Ventus huffed slightly in response to Akasi expressing his pleasure at meeting the Yaksha, as it was all he needed to say. As the pallor faded and his skin regained its colour, the tattoo representing an upside down, soaring green bird, adorning his upper right arm, began to glow ever so softly, as if it were a positive response to the increase in his body temperature. Akasi might notice this if he were to look carefully.

Akasi seemed to persist in his line of questioning, prompting little response from Ventus as he sipped from his bowl once more. However, when he inquired as to what a Guardian Yaksha was, Ventus paused while lowering his bowl back to the table, keeping it hovering in his grip for a few moments before setting it down gently, furrowing his brow at Akasi.

"I'm still learning about that myself." He admitted, a lower tone to his voice suggesting a tinge of shame about not exactly knowing his own heritage. "I do know this: It is the duty of myself and other Yaksha to protect the innocent, from malevolent spirits, monsters and other sources of evil." Ventus did not relax like Akasi did, though he looked down once more at his stew for a little bit, blinking slowly and seeming a little solemn.

"At least that's what I've learned in my travels. Both from stories I've read and what I was told the moment I came here, to this land." He spoke calmly, looking back up to Akasi as he explained further, but then he became a little disdainful as he finished, almost wanting to spit as he looked to the side, nowhere in particular mind. "If only most of the stories I read weren't just exaggerated fan-fiction. I want to learn more of my people, not the fairy tale-esque ramblings of hack writers."

"Would that the mask could tell me more." Ventus mused a little more quietly this time, but Akasi would still hear him quite clearly.

Interactions: o3o o3o - Akasi Ashvins
 
Last edited:
Akasi Ashvins

Interactions:
Kansan Aetos, aka Ventus ( Nero Kunivas Nero Kunivas )

Instead of his usual ramblings, Akasi simply smirked, observing and listening in silence. Yet again, like the mask, a faint green glow emminated from the yaksha. It was reminiscent of the light Akasi's hands gave off when he makes use of the healing arts. It definitely hinted to magic of some kind.

However, what was more surprising was Ventus' words. The yaksha shared more than Akasi had expected. Although it wasn't as cheerful as he would've like, Akasi certainly found it interesting. Sensing the vexation in his toned down voice, Akasi tried his best to empathize with the young yaksha. He couldn't imagine what he was going through, Akasi was no stranger to feeling lost and being clueless of one's purpose. He had no words that could quell the thoughts that were plaguing Ventus' mind, and had no plans of attempting to. Akasi just chose to keep quiet. Although scoffed at by some, there was something therapeutic about silence. It was obvious to Akasi that Ventus, even though bearing uncertainties, was well aware of what he wanted. It made him a bit envious. Despite his years of living, Akasi still questioned what his purpose was. Choosing to not further dwell on such thoughts, Akasi broke the silence with a loud slurp.

"Not sure what to say, but you sound like a nice guy who's got a leveled head on his shoulders." A bit of stew trickled from the corner of Akasi's smile. "I may not know much about yakshas, but you might find what you're looking for in the Capital."

Wiping his mouth clean, Akasi remained relaxed, his body titling everso slightly towards the side where his arm was resting atop the table. "If you don't mind me asking, any plans on heading there yourself?"
 
Last edited:
- Kansan Aetos, aka Ventus -

Silence fell upon the duo at the table after Ventus concluded his explanation, leaving the Yaksha with the feeling that he'd said too much and potentially driven away yet another person. He was used to it by this point, yet it was never a pleasant feeling, just a subdued disappointment that he always kept inside, not everyone was able to really understand the Yaksha anyway. Taking advantage of the quiet to drink more of his stew, Ventus spent some time chewing down on some of the solid food present in the broth, savouring the meat and vegetables.

The deafening quiet was suddenly broken by the slurping of food from Akasi, with Ventus's golden eyes darting in his direction from the bowl they focused on yet again. His chatty acquaintance then simply complimented Ventus for being a nice guy with a level head. Inside, Ventus was taken by surprise by getting an earnest compliment from someone, but on the outside he remained mostly dour, save for his saying: "I'll take the compliment." in a muted tone, though there was a tinge of elation, meaning he was genuinely a little pleased.

"The capital...? I was thinking about heading there. Maybe it'll have what I seek, but..." Ventus began again, properly facing Akasi now, though he would follow with a defeated sigh this time. "To tell the truth, I don't actually know the way there." Frustration took hold again, he was still unfamiliar with the land of Ryke and it irritated him to no end.

Interactions: o3o o3o - Akasi Ashvins
 
Akasi Ashvins

Interactions: Kansan Aetos, aka Ventus ( Nero Kunivas Nero Kunivas )

Since he was being honest, Akasi found his interaction with Ventus to be awkward. It was like maneuvering through an unpaved path filled with humps, bumps, and the occasional animal droppings. Despite that though, he couldn't help but find it absolutely amusing. It reminded him of his son in his previous life. He was distant, brooding, but still far less vocal than Ventus was. Akasi was aware of his son's resentment towards him due to his advocacy to his work.

Letting out a sigh from what was now a mere memory, Akasi chose to not burden himself with past regrets. Again, he was no longer Shigeaki Hinihara, but Akasi Ashvins. His moment of introspection was but a brief moment in reality that manifested as a glint of gloom in his eyes.

Realigning his focus, Akasi immediately leaned forward, gently lifting his hand and snapping. "Well, well, well." He smugly proclaimed.

"I happen to be heading there myself. I just finished visiting the countryside to gather a few plants." Akasi slowly opened his hand, not to stiff but not to relaxed either, as if he was offering it to Ventus.

"Would you like to head to the Capital together? I never did enjoy travelling alone."

Akasi was a believer of the idea that silence is like any other medicine. It certainly had its benefits, but in excess, it was definitely detrimental. As the saying goes, too much silence could be deafening.
 
- Kansan Aetos, aka Ventus -

Any further brooding Ventus intended on doing was swiftly cut off by Akasi's rather smug, yet welcome proclamation; He too was seeking the Capital and knew the way there! Yet though he was hoping for an offer to take him along, Ventus was still taken aback by it, his stoic expression finally being shaken, if only for a moment. He took a while to answer Akasi, opting to look between him and the bowl a few times, settling a little more on Akasi's lingering smugness on his face, though it did sit well upon his handsome features, Ventus would admit...to himself.

"You're serious?" Breaking the silence, Ventus wanted to reaffirm if this was real or not. Yet another act of kindness from a total stranger towards a peculiar Fae such as himself. Today was shaping up to be an interesting one indeed, yet not at all unpleasant.

"...I'd be a fool to refuse." Finally, Ventus gave a small, fleeting smirk as he took Akasi's hand and gave it a firm shake to seal the accord. At last things seemed to be turning around for the young Yaksha. He then soon let go, returning his expression to normal and taking up his stew bowl once more for a deeper swig.

Interactions: o3o o3o - Akasi Ashvins
 
"My heart is full enough as it is thank you very much"

Alastair replies without even thinking to the stranger, Finn, that hops on in. Bah, it doesn't even matter. He's unlikely to ever meet any of these bozos ever again, may as well share his honest thoughts.

"You all talk about ideals but nobody really pays attention to them. Why should they? They're just illogical restrictions you place on yourself. Is it really such a wonderful thing to follow one's ideals to their death? What does that accomplish. Who does your cold rotting carcass save? Sure, the vultures will be thankful but I doubt anyone else will care. Especially not your families and the people you fought for would still need saving. Really, ideals just get in the way. You want to save people? Go ahead. You want to do what's right, sure. Don't let strange notions or outdated ideas get in the way of that is all I'm saying"

Damn. He really was sharing his thoughts without pause. It must be because of how often he's been holding them back, now that he's gotten a chance to share them he just can't help but spill everything he'd bottled up over the years.

Now with him done sharing his thoughts with blondie he returns his attention to fluffy. As he does so, he can hear a commotion in the background but pays it no mind, its unlikely to be important.

Just happy at the chance to speak without regard Alastair continues and humours Izaak.

"Your questions make no sense. You make it sound as if to be a Knight is to be a hero of some kind when that's just wrong. A Knight is chivalrous yes, a Knight is honourable yes, but above all else a Knight *obeys*. It is not their place to question one's lord, their foremost duty is to follow their orders and kill whoever needs to die. So in many of your Examples you could say that the ideal Knight would do exactly as they were told"

He pauses for a moment.

"Very well I will entertain this farce. In the case of the first question. I would-"

Kill innocents? Would he truly do that… no. His mother and father didn't raise a scumbag like that, neither set.

"I would refuse because I have better things to do. Someone like me squashing peasant rebellions of all things? Bah. It's an insult to my lineage"

Yeah that makes sense.

"As for your 2nd question, I would let the princess go. Why? It's simply the most logical course of action though it might not seem that way. If I were to kill her lover and forcibly take her back to her father the future queen would have a powerful grudge against me, better to have someone else deal with that"

Alastair has no intention of getting between two couples, that way lay death.

"And finally, the 3rd question… OK I admit I'd just leave"

Alastair's blunt admission to his callous disregard for old men catches everyone by surprise.

"What? It's him or me. What makes his life more valuable than mine? And anyway. What's he going to do if he survives? Die of pneumonia the next week? Meanwhile I can go and save more people in a way that doesn't require me to die and before you make a speech about him having loved ones. Everyone has loved ones so that changes nothing. The old man has a family, I have a family even the bandits probably have a family. So it really means nothing, why should I have the people I care for weep at my funeral for a stranger?"
 
Time: 9:00 pm
Weather: freezing, very windy, heavy snow
Mentions: Weazel Weazel Sam136 Sam136 o3o o3o Nero Kunivas Nero Kunivas Orikanyo Orikanyo LadyOfStars LadyOfStars
OOC: Unlikely for a lowly baron to have so many Knights. More likely to have soldiers/guards and perhaps one knight to lead the group. Most other knights if any would be left in charge of the baron's domain defenses. There better be no more magically teleported items by items or characters without the teleportation skill.

Wendy's Trading Post

artworks-000122623650-gtbbig-t500x500.jpg

The warm and welcoming Wendy of Wendy's Trading Post did her best to make the rounds, greeting and seeing to the needs of all the new visitors to the tavern that evening. The roads were bad. Was a miracle the carriage made it to the trading post. With door shut and everyone settled, food and drink began to circulate again along with the conversations. The drink and warmth started making the place more lively and some of the tables began getting rowdy as a result with heated debates or just generally loud conversations.

"I've had enough!"

The old bald man sitting next to the fire bellowed. he stood abruptly, quick for someone his size, and clearly illustrated just how much mass he was hiding when he was just trying to sink into his comfy chair by the fire. His white beard was a bit stained by the ale he had been drinking. The mug he had been drinking went skittering across the floor as he stood. Over six feet tall and as broad shouldered as two lesser men, he was an imposing figure as he glared at the rest of the tavern's main floor.

"Wendy! I can't stand any more. It was bad enough letting all these tricky fae folk in here. I swear half of them just came in to rob us of our warmth. Not like their cold ilk even need to come inside from the nature they cling too. But then you let the wretched beast mutts in! Now we get to listen to their lapping of the good stew like dogs, panting like they're in heat, and that's not even mentioning their smell!"

The old man continued to shout and declare as he glared at everyone in the room regardless of their racial origins. He started taking heavy steps that rattled the armor beneath his outerwear cloaks. It was as if he dared anyone in the tavern to oppose him and he looked more than eager to meet any challenge. The hilt of a shortsword was visible through the gaps in his cloak.

"Now, now, General! All are welcome at Wendy's Trading Post that have rykes or goodwill. You've had too much to drink this evening. Why don't you calm down with some hot chocolate? We had it specially ordered and I know you like your sweets."

"Blaze it, Woman! I'm serious. Either the mutts and treehuggers leave or I will!"


General spouted off some more before slamming a guantletted fist down on one of the tables, denting it and cracking the table leg. The table of 4 with one beast folk and one fae folk sitting immediately rose. They were already glaring at the General before he started getting violent. The tavern started to get more lively as people started to move around either toward the potential conflict or away. MadHatter and Castle kept well enough away as Castle started yanking the overly excited and loudly moaning Hatter to the side to avoid getting caught up in something.

The commotion also caused those in the stable portion of the trading post to rush back to the tavern side and peek down from the 2nd floor. Some of Linneus's men as well as Wendy's husband and her third daughter.

1b9d4885490170666e9867a59a115921.jpg
24cfba9d03bde626e096e02ad47ddab9.jpg
 
Akasi Ashvins

Interactions:
Nero Kunivas Nero Kunivas , Novama Novama

Akasi couldn't help but be happier with himself. He helped out a stranger who happened to need some assistance and gained a travel companion in the process. With their bodies warmed and bellies filled, Akasi was ready for a bowl of seconds and some mugs of mead. Unfortunately, their night was quickly turning sour as loud jeers and cheers turned into arrogant words and slanderous insults. Akasi was one who enjoyed watching drunken brawls, even if it involved profanities against acquaintances. However, reading the room, Akasi could tell that this wasn't just ramblings from a random drunk.

He had no plans of putting himself in harm's way especially against a man who was much larger than him. Well, at least not directly.

Hammering down his fist against the table, Akasi tried to make as loud of a sound as he could. "Inn keeper!" He joyfully roared, turning his head towards Wendy. "Two more bowls of stew and a pint of your finest mead!" Akasi was hoping to diffuse the tension that filled the room. "And while your husband isn't here, send us one of your daugthers while you're at it!"

Behind the guise of his false bravado, was an Akasi who was immediately regretting both his words and actions. He expected that whatever rapport he had built up with Ventus would surely be gone by the end of the night along with his room for the night.
 
Last edited:

Users who are viewing this thread

Back
Top