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Teros

The Tavern

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General discussion.

 

 

Seeing as how this will be the first post for it, I mine as well advertise this if other people would like to be a part of it.  We're already at a pretty decent party size, but there's room for 1 or 2 more if they so choose.  I'm doing an ADVENTURE/STORY through my thread called 'Bellmyst'.  Here's the intro story bit:

 

*bbbbzzt*

The tv flicked off with a quick static charge as all the lights in the old house went out. 

“This is the worst Halloween ever” a young boy sighed loudly while sitting on an oversized red chair.  Rain continued to pelt against the rooftops and spattered the two large windows in the living room where the child and his grandfather were sitting.  Those windows now were darkening quickly, like a pair of smoky blue eyes that hung enormously.

“Boy, I know how disappointed you are this Halloween, but with you catching sick you can’t go out in this weather.  Trust me, I’ve been keeping an eye outside and there’s barely any trick-or-treaters.  You’re not missing anything” the grandfather replied.

The boy crossed his arms in an over-exaggerated manner to show how much he didn’t care for his grandfather’s rationale.  “This is like…the ONLY holiday that I love.  Who cares about Christmas? Or Thanksgiving?  And now with this stupid storm the power’s gone out.”

As the child was ranting, the grandfather had already fumbled a bit to the endtable and lit a couple candles.  He also had a flashlight that was able to be propped up like a small tripod to illuminate some of the living room.  A bang of thunder rocketed through the air, jolting the young one.  Not wanting to look scared, he merely grabbed his pile of blankets that were heaped on him and waddled over to the couch where his grandpa was originally sitting.  “...I really wish you got a cell phone that wasn’t terrible” he said. 

The grandfather merely laughed and waved it off.  “Well look, I have something better than any of that video-streaming that your mother has on her phone.  How about I tell you a true scary story?”  The boy’s ears perked up, but wore a mask of indifference.  He shrugged under the blanket heap that he was nesting in as he coughed.

Sinking into the chair, the grandfather put the tripod flashlight on the coffee table in front of them.  Gesturing to the now-dead tv in the living room, the elder said, “I can guarantee you that this is scarier than anything you’ve seen on the tv.  I don’t know if you’re old enough to hear this.”

Thunder peeled through the sky again.

Denial always drummed up anticipation.  Now a little more restless, the boy pressed on to hear this story.  Looking inquisitively, “So…who’s this story about?”

Playfully mocking, the grandfather started toying with the boy. “I…I don’t know.  If your mother found out she would kill me.”  Another rumble of thunder from the skies.

Adjusting to get comfortable for a long evening, the grandpa corrected the boy, “Not ‘who’ but ‘where’ is what matters.”  He looked side to side, as if about to whisper a secret.  “….Bellmyst.”

“Bellmyst? Where’s that?” the boy was curious now.

“Back from where this family came from.  In old England and where my father told me about this story and his father did the same.  Only it’s not on a map or in the history books. At least…not anymore.”

Rain was pelting the house at a 45 degree angle, and all the candles and the flashlight were showing a reflection of stars twinkling in those enormous graying window-eyes.  “Why’s it not on a map? What happened to the place?” the boy asked.

“If you think you’re old enough to hear this, I’ll tell you.  But you have to promise not to break the story.  I know it well and it had a serious impact on me in my younger days.  One of the reasons I went to medical school as a lad.”

Making a zipper motion, the boy dragged his hand across his mouth.  He wouldn’t make a peep.

Guffawing, the grandfather started…

  BellMyst2.png

Bellmyst was a town nestled in England generations ago.  It’s not on any map anymore.  Once everything had unfolded, it was stricken from the record books and the neighboring towns extended their property lines, pretending it never existed.  It was swallowed up, like nothing ever happened.  And those few that *do* remember, probably keep the tales to themselves.  After all, after a generation had passed, who would believe such things existed anyway?  It was a nightmare that people wanted to forget.

 

The plague had ravaged certain parts of the land.  There was talk among the neighboring towns of paranormal things going on in the town of Bellmyst.  Spirits.  Witches.  Beasts in the night.  Experiments being conducted on the dead.  There was no certainty where these rumors came, but they became prevalent. Always in hushed tones were the townsfolk talking of these things.  Always late at night, when drinking was heavy and tongues began to wag.  The town also became a hotspot for mining.  Discovery of new resources abound in Bellmyst, and that grew the area into a magnet for people all across the country for a brief spell.  The land gained notoriety.

 

There were a couple types of people attracted to this area.  There were the destitute and poor who expected to make riches, much like the California gold rush here in America.  There were also plague doctors who wanted to see what they could do to study the Outbreak.  Alchemists were immediately attracted to the wealth of materials to experiment with.  Lastly were those…unsavory types.  Those that maybe had a hand in the occult or paranormal and wanted to investigate rumors.

 

CHOOSE YOUR CLASS:

-Plague Doctor

-Alchemist

-Paranormal Investigator

-Destitute/Unknown Yet

 

--

As of right now, we have the following party:

@WhiteGhost as an Alchemist

@GregT. as an Alchemist

@DarK_RaideR as a Plague Doctor

@CallunaTook as a Paranormal Investigator

@Sylvaa as Destitute

@Leigh as Destitute

@RES as Destitute

If anyone else would like to join, just send me a message.  I will be starting up group PM for (Out of Character) questions.  Like, "I'm an Alchemist, will I piss off the bartender if I ask about ___?"  Or "What's my motivation?" etc.  All in-game roleplaying is done with the sickly green bold text.

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Are we required to post in that vomit worthy green? or is that only your posts? And Are we posting it all here? or will there be a Bellmyst only thread. I'm hoping so, cause trying to pick out the IC from the OOC in this thread could get tricky... :P

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18 hours ago, Leigh said:

Are we required to post in that vomit worthy green?

The green is story so any story is that color.  Makes it easier to know when people are in character VS out of character.

 

18 hours ago, DarK_RaideR said:

Vomit worthy green... I like that

Image result for Grenth
 
Grenth Is Pleased.

 

11 hours ago, CallunaTook said:

Traveler's Century Club:

 

The meetups must be awesome.  I don't need *items* in life, I need *stories*.

 

 

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It was mid October.  It was an unusually cool fall and the leaves were all sorts of shades of red, yellow, and orange.  The sun was setting earlier and the usual fair were at the most popular tavern in Bellmyst:

 

Mutton's Tavern

Image result for loud tavern 1600s

 

 

"AYE NUTTUH PINT FOR ME OLE BOYS!" a rotund man wearing a button-up coat yelled from across the Tavern.  Tara Windsy snaked her way through the throngs of crowded tables.  "Can't believe Jilly is still a mess..." Tara sound out loud.  It's not like she would be heard over the cacophony of drunks belting out requests.  The small pub had humble beginnings: cheap ale and a large cellar for all sorts of...unsavory professions.  As it grew in notoriety, friends of friends made their way to the little hole in the wall.  Although the cops had warned the tavern for disturbing the peace, nothing ever came of it.  Eventually, they too were folded into the rank of the local patrons.  A more savvy and charismatic person playing the right cards could find out more about what business deals are done at Mutton's; but for the bulk of the folks there: they just wanted a drink and a warm atmosphere.

 

Most patrons were men, which explains why Mutton hired Tara Windsy, Sarah Kennings, and Jillian Lass; some of the most attractive women in the area- they were able to make a pretty shilling on an off night.  Nevermind what might go on behind closed doors...

 

With the money, Mutton also hired a self-proclaimed 'Professional' pianist. The one and only: Sammy Brat.  Wearing only the cleanest of suits and ordering only the cleanest of drinks, Sammy carried himself with an air of sophistication despite working at a mere pub.  Mr Brat's disdain for his current place of employment stays mostly hidden, as the bread he gets in his jar from the slobbering drunkards is nothing to sneeze at, but the most discerning eye can tell Sammy knows he's worth more than this place.

 

For whatever reason, *YOU* dear reader, end up at Mutton's Tavern.

 

Story:

-What brings you to the tavern?  Backstory. (Your class)

-When do you show up/where are you sitting?

-Who would you like to talk to? (available NPCs that I just name-dropped)

 

Once these things are known, characters can start making introductions and a narrative can be built.  You're playing off of each other and I fill in the details of the NPCs.  I decided that although I like roleplaying, as a character; I'm going to stay out since I'm playing the role of all of the NPCs.  It would be unfair if I knew what happened next (as a character) and made it happen.

 

There are (and idk if this is too much info already....) FOUR storylines that are happening in the town of Bellmyst.  What one(s) are found out are all based on the interactions with the people you are around.  If you have questions as to what info you want to get, send me a response in the PM that I sent.  It wouldn't make sense for, say Mutton himself, to do an Irish Jig.  He's a tough motherfucker with huge sideburns and a slight smile.

 

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The door creaked open, its sound mixed with that of heavy spurs and the sloshing sound of heavy boots on mud. Patrons near the door who were sober enough to notice turned a head, instinctively curious as to whoever might show up this late at night.

_overwatch_sfm__reaper___plague_doctor_b

The man's appearance was confusing, to say the least. He wore the telltale beaked mask of a Plague Doctor, but he was far from the typical scrawny figure wrapped in long robes and dresses. In fact, he was broad-shouldered and carried himself with the air of a warrior, to the point where his mask felt more like an elaborately decorated part of facial armor.  Some locals spat on the ground or scuttled away in disgust and superstition. No matter the wearer, death often preceded and almost always followed the arrival of someone in the beaked mask.

 

Not seeming to care about those around him, the Plague Doctor took a seat close to the piano and leaned towards Sammy Brat, placing a metal-tipped gauntlet on the laquered wood. His voice was raspy and gutteral, with a metallic twing and echo on top due to the mask.

 

"D'you know to play The Bailiff's Daughter of Islington?"

 

Just a little intro scene, leaving plenty of stuff blank on purpose so people can chime in and we can get some story going.

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Percival Connington III looked out over the crowded tavern from his table near the wall, trying to hide a look of disdain.  Or maybe it was disgust, he wasn't quite sure himself.  What he was sure of, however, is that he did not fit in among these people.  Percival had spent most of his life in London learning his craft under the careful tutelage his father, who had learned it from his father before him.  Alchemy had always come easily for Percival, and he was inducted into the Verwandeln Masonry not long after his 20th birthday.  He strongly suspected his affinity to alchemy was genetic, as all the best alchemists came from the best alchemist families. 

 

There were, of course, others of lesser stock who were encroaching into the craft.  Percival felt a rush and anger as he thought of those new entrants into the craft, and blamed them for why he had to be here in Bellmyst in the first place.  There were so many upstarts coming into London to ply their craft that they were stealing business and clients away from the more reputable alchemist families.  Due to the decline in business, his father had sent him here to Bellmyst to learn more about the rumors that there were valuable secrets here to be discovered.  

 

Percival scanned the crowd looking for someone, the right kind of person, that would likely have more of the information he was seeking...

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Vlad had been sitting here for two hours nursing the same stale small beer that he had ordered the he first got here.  The miasma of smells that were in this place while interesting and telling of what everyone did had started to become nothing more than back ground.  This was nothing like Konigserg Oblast where his family had been driven two generations ago by that petty little noble that blamed his grandfather for the death of his wife.  It was not the families fault that the little bastard couldn't follow simple instructions and gave to much of the potion to the twit and caused her to immolate at a dinner party.  

 

    The Verwandeln were adamant however that Vlad needed to go back to England, and to this place and discover what is happening here and bring back the information for further study.  The coin in his purse and the letter in his pocket for introduction and credit with the local Verwandeln Masons were supposed to be all he needed to get started but after a few private discussions with other members of the order, a quiet reconnesice was recommended to be done first.  So Now Vlad is sitting with his back against the wall, sipping an good imitation of urine from a mug and trying to see if anyone interesting is about.  Maybe a contact with another of the Masons, or people that could prove useful during his stay.   Get the job done, learn what you can and go back to your laboratory and do something useful.

 

Suddenly the door swings open and in walks a Plague Doctor.  He is a bit unusual to Vlad's eyes  and looks more like a baser man wearing costume.  Well he had been informed that Plague was rampant here and he just hoped that the precautions used in Konigsberg worked here and made a note to unpack and use the powders he had to protect his rooms when he found them.  In the meantime at least something new had happened and it appears it is a music lover.  If he is a Plague Doctor, maybe he would be a possible business contact for the family?

 

  Ho, what is this another new comer, this one looks like he has stepped in something he dislikes and is eyeing everyone around him like filth.  Is that a astringent smell coming from his coat?

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Josephine Bates (Joey to her friends, if she ever had any) tethered her weary horse to a post outside the Bellmyst tavern. “Thank ye, Spook, that’ll be all fer now,” she murmured, patting him on the neck before digging water and grain out of a pack. She set the horse up with goodies and worked to give Spook a quick wipe-down while he ate and drank, her breath making tiny clouds in the chill fall night. She was lucky she’d made it to town when she had; any longer, and it would have been too dark to continue. It would have been another damp night on the road. The warmth of the tavern looked inviting, but she eyed it warily.

 

She’d left her family’s farm partly because it was boring and lacked opportunity, but also because she had begun to overhear murmurs in the village that she may be a witch. That’s what happens when a farm girl reads too much, pokes around cemeteries, and asks odd questions. Witchcraft was an outdated and ridiculous superstition, obviously, but she knew when she wasn’t wanted, and there was a whole world to study. Hopefully, this time, she’ll be able to make a better impression. She had worn her nicest Sunday clothes and done her best to appear scholarly, but anyone with half a wit could tell that it was nothing more than lipstick on a pig. Her shiny black shoes were now muddy from the road, and she hadn’t made time to repair the rips in the hem of her cloak. Under the cloak, her best dress was probably 8 years old and threadbare in spots, if anyone cared. Spook never did, anyway.

 

Joey made sure her coins were securely in her purse, along with a small notebook and pencil, drew herself up tall and proud, and headed in. First order of business was to find a room. Next was food and gossip. Warm air greeted her as the door opened, and just a few steps ahead loomed a large man wearing a plague mask. Of course. It made sense, given everything she'd heard… but his presence made her nervous. She almost felt like she might catch the plague just by looking at him. She glanced around quickly, looking for the innkeeper and trying not to draw attention. That part was easy, with the plague doctor rising in front of her like a mountain.

 

She thinks she spots a likely candidate for the tavern keeper, skirts a wide berth around the doctor, and approaches the identified man. “Pardon, sir, do ye work here? I’m after a hot meal and a room to let.”

 

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With the attention surrounding the newcomers, no one seemed to notice an additional shadow sliding in behind the Plague Doctor. The dark figure made her way to a corner where she could warm her cold bones.

 

Driven to Bellmyst by the promise of adventure, Maggie had only found hunger and uncertainty. Her last few days of odd jobs had given her an extra coin or two for drink and hopefully the change to find a lead on new employment. She gave a nod to Tara when their eyes met. While not exactly friends, Tara was at least kind enough to not hurry her along - as long as there weren't better paying customers waiting for seats.

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Walking over to a slightly wobbly table with a few of the local boys, Fox retrieved a battered pack of cards from her pants pocket as she listened to the shit talking of her table mates. While she never actually played the game with the boys, she was their dealer and they trusted her to hold onto their money if they got a bit too drunk. It was a trick she had picked up in her travels. She'd make nice with the local working lads and ask to sit in on a game or two. When they told her the starting bet she'd flat out admit she had nowhere near that kind of coin and asked to deal instead, arguing that it meant she could keep them all honest even if she couldn't contribute to the betting pool. Since nearly all places had at least one bastard who would cheat in cards it usually seemed to work.

 

She'd been in Bellmyst for going on three months now and had yet to find herself sleeping outside or in someone's barn. They might not be all that nice to look at, but the miners were an oddly generous bunch and she could usually find a warm bed to sleep in with one of them for a few days. Although she was sporting a black eye and four scratches down the right side of her face from last night. Dear Will had failed to mention that he was married when he offered her a bed to sleep in for the night and his wife was very displeased to see a young woman walking into their house with her husband...

 

While it wasn't a trick she could keep going for long it served her well enough until she was known enough in a new place and liked enough that she could hunt down some honest work to keep suspicious wives out of the loop of her real job until she felt the urge to move on. She nodded to Will and gingerly took her seat at the table and started to shuffle the cars after stealing a sip of beer from the large man sitting to her right. He noticed her discomfort and laughed "Will got a bit rough with you last night eh?" he asked and gave Will a lecherous smile.

 

"Nah... Will here's not so bad, his wife however... That woman is a demon! Great cook, but an absolute demon in bed!" she joked and winked at Will when he flushed bright red. She waved over to Sarah for a mug of her usual and passed the girl a small copper coin when she brought back a mug of what looked like beer, but was actually cold black tea. "Now then, what's the game tonight lads?" she said and slapped the deck of cards down in the middle of the table and took a small sip of her drink.

 

WHtXPx8.jpg

Character picture is a cropped image from this webcomic.

 

 

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Tess watched with interest the new(er) people that entered the pub from her seat in the darkest corner of the room she could find. Not that she had much business calling someone 'new' around here, she had only arrived a week ago if that. Having no idea what drew her to the place or the funds to move much further she spent several hours at a time in the pub where her grey, hooded cloak and shadowed corner helped hide her from those who would bother her, or at least give her an air of not wanting to be bothered with conversation. The fact that she could also observe without being noticed didn't hurt either.

Jilly was usually the barmaid that took care of her, so she couldn't help but overhear Tara's comment about her being "a mess"...what did that mean? She couldn't seem to shake the sense of foreboding that crept over her, she wanted to talk to Jilly but had no idea where to go about finding her.

 

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For reference purposes:

 

@DarK_RaideR = (Character name, or are we sticking with D_R in conversation?) (Plague Doctor)

 

@WhiteGhost = Percival Connington III    (Fucking great name, btw) (Alchemist)

 

@GregT. = Vlad  (Alchemist)

 

@CallunaTook = Josephine Bates   (Paranormal)

 

@Sylvaa = Maggie (Destitute)

 

@Leigh = Fox (Destitute)

 

@RES = Tess (Paranormal)

 

 

On 11/30/2017 at 9:04 AM, DarK_RaideR said:

"D'you know to play The Bailiff's Daughter of Islington?"

 

Sammy Brat finished tinkering on the keys, his gaze fixed on the gauntlet.  Slowly looking up and sizing the Plague Doctor, a smirk contoured his face.  "Ya Bailiff's Daughter.  'tis a good one."  Sammy adjusted on his seat and repositioned his dexterous long fingers for a song he knew fairly well and flung a sly look at his own tip jar atop the piano.  His hands gracefully sliding along the piano, the artist dabbled in his craft with unusual gusto and vigor.  Perhaps in the back of Sammy's mind, he knew that this Doctor, who was also a man of culture in the arts, would hand him a pretty pence for an impassioned piece.  Once in a while during the playing of the song, Mr. Brat would take a glance at the Doctor: not of his intimidating mask but of the seemingly expensive threads that the Doctor possessed.

 

On 12/2/2017 at 3:06 PM, Leigh said:

Sarah for a mug of her usual and passed the girl a small copper coin when she brought back a mug of what looked like beer, but was actually cold black tea.

 

Sarah had seen Fox play this game for long enough and the coin was good.  They weren't really friends at this point, but more like friendly co-workers.  Sarah let Fox get on with being the funds-holder, looped around to the back of the room and....

 

On 11/30/2017 at 11:30 PM, WhiteGhost said:

Percival scanned the crowd looking for someone, the right kind of person, that would likely have more of the information he was seeking...

 

Percival's gaze into the mass of people was broken by a busty deep reddish-hued woman.  "Fancy a drink?  Me-name's Sarah." her stitched embroiders on her chest making a V pattern and pointing directly to the reason tips would be given to her this evening.

 

On 12/1/2017 at 10:43 AM, CallunaTook said:

She thinks she spots a likely candidate for the tavern keeper, skirts a wide berth around the doctor, and approaches the identified man. “Pardon, sir, do ye work here? I’m after a hot meal and a room to let.”

 

Mutton gave the newcomer in the worn clothes a glance as she timidly asked for some provisions.  He wiped down a mug and snapped at her with some sarcasm,  "Well naaah little lady, I'm tendin' the bar for free."  Josephine looked away.  Mutton felt maybe she was just nervous and eased up.  "Well me name's Mutton and this is Mutton's Tavern so I better be working here.  Hot meal?  Can do."  The owner slid an ink-faded paper to her.  He pointed to the middle of the page, "That part's worn down but it's supposed to say pottage.  Also got chops, oat cakes, stew, so on..."

 

The lumbering owner leaned forward a bit, "However, the room situation might be out of your league.  Very few and always full.  What brings you here? Seem outta your element."

 

On 12/4/2017 at 3:13 PM, RES said:

she couldn't help but overhear Tara's comment about her being "a mess"...what did that mean?

 

Tara didn't bother the woman in grey, but was checking in on the table next to her.

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11 hours ago, Teros said:

@DarK_RaideR = (Character name, or are we sticking with D_R in conversation?) (Plague Doctor)

Skipped it on purpose to build mystery and maybe tease someone into asking. Forgot you might need it for reference and narrative purposes. It's Dr. Sollers (the r is a bit silent, so the name sounds like "solace")

 

Will have my RP up asap.

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10 hours ago, DarK_RaideR said:

Forgot you might need it for reference and narrative purposes

Nah no worries, man.  I wanted everyone to have an intro post and now that's happened so I expect things to move a bit faster.  This campaign *will* be done.  I already know certain events.  How it plays out and how much information the group figures out is completely unknown, though.

 

 

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On 12/12/2017 at 4:53 PM, Teros said:

Mutton gave the newcomer in the worn clothes a glance as she timidly asked for some provisions.  He wiped down a mug and snapped at her with some sarcasm,  "Well naaah little lady, I'm tendin' the bar for free."  Josephine looked away.  Mutton felt maybe she was just nervous and eased up.  "Well me name's Mutton and this is Mutton's Tavern so I better be working here.  Hot meal?  Can do."  The owner slid an ink-faded paper to her.  He pointed to the middle of the page, "That part's worn down but it's supposed to say pottage.  Also got chops, oat cakes, stew, so on..."

 

The lumbering owner leaned forward a bit, "However, the room situation might be out of your league.  Very few and always full.  What brings you here? Seem outta your element."

 

“Well, Mr. Mutton sir, I’m ‘ere to make a name fer meself. I’m a bit o’ a scholar,” she began (meaning that she had read a lot of books), “an’ a good detective.” (Or, at least, she anticipated that she would be.) “I specialize in things uncanny. Word o’ yer town’s strife ‘as traveled wide, and I think me services could be useful ‘ere. It can’t be natural, so much tragedy in one place.” Josephine sighed, and gratefully touched the menu with her fingertips. “But first, I need a full belly, and a base of operations. That is,” she added, regretfully, “jes a place to lay me ‘ead. I guess I’ll figure that out later.” She shoved her disappointment aside. What was one more problem to solve, anyhow? One step at a time! She looked back at Mutton with a smile. “I’d like some stew please, sir, if ye’d be so kind.” There is little better than stew on a cold night. Except for maybe a shot of whiskey… but she thought it would be safe to preserve some of her coin for now. “After that, if ye think of a place I might be able to stay tonight, or someone who may be able to use me ‘elp, I’d appreciate the tip.”

 

She perched herself primly on one of the barstools. She’d be near at hand, in case Mutton thought of something he’d be willing to share, and she’d be able to hear what else was said at the bar. Barkeepers often had conversations that were enlightening to strangers.

 

The pianist changed tune, something graceful and lyrical. She thought she recognized it, but wasn’t certain… no one had picked up to sing yet. The gentle sound seemed at odds with the general energy she felt from the tavern; tension prickled over the card game (as often happens with money at stake), brooding and manipulative intentions wafting through the air as certain as the smells of beer and stew. And of course, over all of that, the foreboding that had brought her here; it blanketed the town like the best English fog. She knew there was something off. She felt it. She could almost taste it. But what was it?

 

One step at a time.

 

Stew first.

 

 

 

Lyrics:

http://www.sacred-texts.com/neu/eng/child/ch105.htm

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On 12/13/2017 at 6:53 AM, Teros said:

Percival's gaze into the mass of people was broken by a busty deep reddish-hued woman.  "Fancy a drink?  Me-name's Sarah." her stitched embroiders on her chest making a V pattern and pointing directly to the reason tips would be given to her this evening.

 

Percival continued looking at the crowd for a few moments before acknowledging the existence of the woman who seemed to be making an exaggerated attempt of showing as much buxom as possible.  Turning slowly to look at her, he gave her a once over and bit his tongue to keep his thoughts to himself.  Whores often dislike hearing hard truths and often had the protection of more than a few well muscled patrons. Besides, it was pretty clear that the only access to the beds in this place was in the company of a tavern girl so he would do best not to offend her rashly.

 

Speaking slowly, but clearly so the girl could understand him, Percival looked the girl in the face, and said "Thank you miss, but as you can see I already have a drink" inclining he head towards the tankard on the table in front of him.  "However, should I require another I will be sure to call for you.  Sarah was it."  He gave her a brief smile and continued to look around the common room for someone with whom it would be worthwhile to engage in a conversation.

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Ok, team... 

I found this and had to share, since we have had some nostalgia-related discussions in past weeks. As an aside, yes, I tried it on for several websites including the Rebellion forums, and it does work pretty decently. I found it amusing and endearing. 

(Convert any website to a Geocities site using Geocitiesizer:  http://www.wonder-tonic.com/geocitiesizer/)

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Hey, GLs! Anybody know what the plans are for the forums over the holiday? I want to finish my challenge early and start a mini challenge. Should I post it here? Battle log? Thanks!

 

Also, totally enjoying the story so far!

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18 hours ago, annyshay said:

Hey, GLs! Anybody know what the plans are for the forums over the holiday? I want to finish my challenge early and start a mini challenge. Should I post it here? Battle log? Thanks!

 

As far as I know, the next challenge forums should be available December 26th - there will not be a holiday mini-challenge forum. 

 

So I say put it wherever makes the most sense for you!

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