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SRD - v3.5
Order of the Sword & Rose
Keiri looked up with wide eyes and smile. "Of course you're my friend!" She glanced back over her shoulder at Ranaewen, who seemed to be drinking heavily. "She never told me why we were to meet here, Ralthoin. She just said that if I wanted to meet up with her, this is where she would be. I just arrived in town..." The elf lifted her shoulders slightly, unconcerned."I'm not sick, just...tired," she finished with a small yawn and a stretch that made her cringe again briefly. As she looked back up, her young face suddenly showed fatigue in the dark circles under her eyes and lines across her brow. Ralthoin realized that she was not as young as she first appeared. She studied his face as well, and saw kindly concern etched across his features."I had to leave my home, you see. I was...my husband..." her voice caught at the words and she looked down for a moment before continuing softly, "he is...he was a knight. He did not return from his last journey. I needed to get away." Stark grief masked her face. She fumbled with a pouch at her waist and finally opened it, withdrawing a small packet of herbs. She hopped off her stool and moved somewhat awkwardly along the bar toward the barkeep, asking him in a soft voice for some hot water. She glanced at the other dwarf sitting there, obviously quite inebriated."Hello, friend," she said in her high, soft voice, placing a hand gently on Kramer's arm. "Is there some way I can help you?" Keiri murmured quietly after speaking to him, her gaze fixed on him intently. A brief soft glow of light passed from her hand into his arm.
Ranaewen knew she should try to keep her wits about her. And yet, the elven spirits were quite...good. Better than anything she had ever spent money on, certainly. She grinned at Whisp and took the offered spirits gladly. I'm fine, she thought, no problem...this is gonna be...She blinked slowly. The room was spinning a bit, wasn't it? Or... She shook her head slightly and glanced around the tavern. She saw Keiri at the bar. And her acquaintance was still seated quietly, waiting patiently. He would know she had to be careful how she approached.Hm...how to go about this..."Oh, me? Oh, I'm just, you know," she shrugged in what she hoped was a casual manner at Whisp's question, "out to have fun." The half elf smiled roguishly. "What could be more fun than drinking and gambling, I say. And you, Whisp?...You frequent this tavern..?" She let her gaze drift over the elven woman, thinking that since she did not seem to be a wench, she must be a thief or worse. I really need to keep my wits here, she thought.
“Me?” her eyes batting wildly, “Oh I’ve been here longer than most but less than some.” Yes she was definitely here for something restlessness was giving that away. But what was she here for? “I’m a hostess of sorts for Cloak special guests. And you my dear would definitely qualify as that.” A hunger quickly flashed across her eyes. “But you have not been formally introduced to Cloak have you. Where are my manners?” She again filled the cap and placed it in her companion’s hand, aiding her hands off the table and towards her mouth in a gentle and caring motion, like a mother helping her dying child drink one last sip of water before the end. She then quickly scanned the room to find Liolin. Spotting him talking to someone who appeared to be a musician or bard of some sort based upon the lute lying on the table in front of him.
She then let out a shrill whistle to get Liolin’s attention. Then in a voice that seemed to ooze confidences and familiarity yet cut through the buzz of the tavern background noise called to Liolin, “Cloak, do be a dear and come over and meet my new friend. She just told me she can beet anyone, anytime, at any game of chance,” she gave wink to Ranaewen, the kind of wink old friends in the know gave to one another, “and I new right the two of you had to meet.” She turned back to Rawaewen and smiled, then motioned for her to quickly finish the drink in her hand.
Now where was her friend the nymph. She looked to where she had last seen her, and was taken aback, to the point that she quickly scanned the room one more time. The nymph no longer seemed to radiate youth. She had seemed to almost age. At first glance Whisp had thought the nymph had an older sister or a young looking mother take her place at the bar, but no it was definitely her. Tavern lighting was never flattering on anyone, but this was more than that. The nymph seemed almost sickly now, as if she was wasting away before her very eyes. Magic? Maybe a glam spell? If this was the case the nymph was definitely not who she seemed to be and deserved even more attention. She needed to get Liolin over to her side now. Firstly so she could protect him if need be and secondly she needed someone she could trust by her side to watch her back. Something was about to go down, her keen senses were screaming, and all the players had not made themselves know, and those that had were changing before her very eyes. This was not good. Not good at all!
Good, he thought to himself, amidst all of the commotion no one has noticed my arrival.
Standing a darkened, shadowy corner of the room Aristoblis surveys the scene before him. Pleased with his silent entrance he takes quick note of the room’s occupants, his keen, ancient eyes missing nothing.
Quite an interesting mix in here. This should prove to be most interesting, Aristoblis observes to himself. Dwarves and elves exchanging sorrows, and yet others drowning theirs. However the most interesting bit is taking place just feet away. An elf intentionally trying to get a half-blood drunk, and all while a drow apparently running the show. No doubt the self proclaimed ‘master’ of this establishment…typical Dark Elf fashion.
Apparently none of the rooms occupants have noticed his arrival, which suits him fine. Gives me longer to observe them, he says silently to himself. When one travels roads few mortals even know about, seldom is one’s passing even noticed.
Aristoblis folds his arms silently into his robes, his staff held close to his body in the crook of his arm. Listening, watching, absorbing, he continues to take in the surroundings.