A New Face in the TarRaCe

GAME: Murder rolls acrobatics: (3)+22: 25

The weather is poor today, with the promise of Winter in it's chilly, raw wind blowing down from the mountains to the east. The rain is just the misery cherry on top of the sad sundae.

But the TarRaCe offers a respite from the chill rain and wind, brightly lit, with a fire burning brightly in the fireplace. The crowd of patrons is definitely lighter though, but it is enough to keep the staff of the TarRaCe hopping, moving about the place with a practiced professionalism insisted upon by the place's proprietress. Who currently is tending bar, the Goblin's blue skin, and angular appearance well known. Drinks are expertly slid down the bar, and trays are quickly filled for the staff tending to the tables.

The small stage is occupied by a singular Goblin, who is dressed in gold and silver chain. She is performing a series of series of sword maneuvers, the blade being longer than she is tall, yet still swung with poise and skill. To this is added a series of jumps and flips, each one higher than the last, definitely augmented by magic.

The wee woman performs once last, high, jump, landing on one hand. Tilting her head back, she exhales a gout of flame that almost threatens the rafters, eliciting a few shouts and gasps. And then it's over, the flames dying down til they are licking at her lips. The applause is scattered at first, and then becomes more enthusiastic. The Goblin tumbles and rolls off stage, moving to the bar, while the proprietress calls out, "Happy Hour, drinks are half price!" The cheers go up and drink orders come in like crazy.

"By the hells, the weather is terrible." The charming tenor voice comes from a slim form pushing the door shut, clad in a long fur and leather coat with a broad-brimmed hat on his head. Rain dribbles off him in small puddles as he doffs his hat, revealing that it's Telamon in from the cold. The half-elf slips off his coat, letting one of the servers take it along with the hat to dry.

Underneath, it's the usual ensemble of long-sleeved silk tunic, black leather trousers, and boots, albeit with a knitted vest with moons and white ravens embroidered into it. He waves to the blade-dancing goblin with a smile, as he steps up to the bar. "As promised," he says to the proprietress, removing four bottles from his haversack, one at a time. "Do have fun with those."

That errand done, he accepts a mug of cider, turning to watch the crowd and gauge the mood.

It's Fayde's first time in Alexandria. He had come here with the promise of opportunities to better himself in the wings. A chance to change things. A chance to not be what he was made to be. He didn't mind the cold. He was used to feeling uncomfortable and grimey. So when he found himself in the TarRaCe, Fayde's eyes glanced around the entire room. Unlike many others, he looked like he came straight from battle or some kind of conflict. His dark cloak was nearly in tatters at the end from use, barely covering rusted, beaten down armor. A large sword graced his back, seemingly far better taken care of than anything else on his person.

"Hmm..."

His eyes look around the place, largely at the stage occupied by a singular goblin who seems to be performing sword maneuvers. "Seems to be full of entertainments..." the human male does not slip off his cloak, and instead, his heavy boots thud softly against the ground as he steps up towards the bar. He could use something to warm his stomach.

"Mead." He demands, only to pause. "Please."

Irshya takes the four bottles from Telamon, grinning broadly at the man. "Oh, you have made some more! Thank you very much, I shall try one after the dinner rush calms down a little. Or should I wait until after?" She is quickly distracted by calls for more drinks, ales and shots of whiskey sliding down the bar to different patrons.

The performing Goblin grins at Telamon then, "Aha, the city's lord archmage Lupecyl-Atlon himself." She giggles a little at the man. "How have you been? Had any more feasts invaded by sea peoples?"

Fayde will find his mead sliding along the bar to him, the glass stopping just shy of passing him. Murder eyes him as he comes up to the bar. "Have you just stepped out of a war somewhere? Or just having a bad day? Your armor has seen better days." A few flames peek out of her mouth momentarily, before she asks for ale. Which arrives a moment later.

Telamon smiles broadly. "They can be tricky. You have to wait for the right time to brew some of them, and if you don't, well, they don't work. But please, share them with friends and enjoy them in a quiet moment. Some things deserve to be savored."

The half-sil laughs softly at Murder, turning to greet her. "Thankfully no. I have my own pursuits, unsurprisingly, but no interruptions of dinner." He pulls a rather ominous expression. "The penalty for disturbing my dinner parties might be worse than the penalty for disturbing a goblin's meal, after all." Tel keeps that look for a moment, before it dissolves into a grin.

As Fayde arrives, Telamon turns to look the man over with interest, noting his worn, battered attire. He doesn't speak just yet, instead opting to study Fayde over the rim of his mug.

A mug of mead is slid right over to him. A gauntleted hand takes it in his grasp, firm and steady, lifting the drink to his lips, seemingly of a mind not to keep to himself. Only...such things seem to be beyond him. "Stepped out of something. Perhaps it is better if it is entirely unexplained." He doesn't seem to have any *active* wounds at the moment, though that doesn't mean the rust on his armor isn't from blood. His eyes gently glance, raising a brow.

"Archmage?"

A little smile forms on his surprisingly fair features, considering the rest of his appearance. "Didn't think such a place could be frequented by one who is seemingly of such tremendous importance." His flowing speech left his lips with an attempt at charm.

Though he turned to the goblin, tilting his head. "You are the one who was performing with the blades. Are you a warrior, or is your skill only for show?" It's not meant to be insulting, but rather it's asked with a genuine tone of curiosity. "I've heard people of all shapes and sizes come to Alexandria. I hear there is great strength here."

The blue Goblin nods to Telamon. "I am sure my staff will appreciate them with me. My thanks, Telamon. Did you wish some tea? Or perhaps some hot apple cider? Or mead?" The busy proprietress continues to serve drinks, while holding the conversation.

The little green Goblin frowns at Fayde a moment, her hand reaching up for the sword hilt hovering over her right shoulder. "Is my skill -only- for show?" Her eyes flash red briefly, and the fire is there in her maw as she opens it. She snorts then. "I am a bloodrager. I wield sword and fire. I have fought in many battles, and killed demons by the score." Her arms cross over her chest. "Alexandria has the strongest people in the world. Of which, I am one."

Telamon smiles jovially, holding up the mug he received. "I'm all right for the moment, Irshya. Thanks though. Just the thing for a night like this."

His eyebrows rise as Murder bristles, and he lightly touches her shoulder. "It was a question, not an accusation," Tel notes in a friendly tone. "Save the fire for your foes."

The half-elf offers a smile in return to Fayde, his dark eyes glinting with distant starlight. "Some call me that, yes. The perils of becoming skilled in the arcane. But it's also important to never forget the people you live amongst, and so I come here from time to time." His eyes twinkle. "Granted, sometimes it's to bring magically-brewed concoctions, but a man must have hobbies."

The little Goblin begins to breathe fire with her breath. She declares herself a bloodrager, and Fayde raised his brow only softly, a little smile touching his features just a little bit more. "Then it seems we are as kin, at least in regards to know the depths of anger. I'm a bloodrager myself. Though I can see you have far more experience than I on hte subject, even if we draw power from the same source." He hums. "Perhaps I might join such ranks one day...if but to find a better road than previously treaded."

He doesn't elaborate, however, instead taking a moment for silence before his eyes turn to Telamon, bowing hish ead to the Archmage for his timely diplomacy. "It is not often I see ones more dedicated to speech before the blade. Magically brewed concoctions...I'm certain you're quite popular at parties." He teases the man.

"But I digress. My name is Fayde."

The Goblin bristles further at the touch to her shoulder, and she glares at Telamon for a few moments, before the fire in her mouth goes out. "Hmmph." She turns away to guzzle down her ale.

Murder eyes Fayde for a few moments. "I learned how to tame my anger from the oruch clan of my Da's. And Angoron himself whispers the spells into my head. I am destined for great things, and I am here in Alexandria to save her."

The Goblin lets out a little snort. "Oh, you haven't seen him fight... he's good at just ... removing things from existence, without even introducing himself."

"Gently, Murder. If he's newly arrived to the city, let there be some mysteries for him to discover." Telamon's eyes dance with mischief. "Like the best place to get spicy noodles, or a masterwork blade chased in silver."

The half-elf bows fluidly in turn to Fayde. "I am called Telamon Lupecyll-Atlon. And since you ask... yes, I -do- enjoy a good party. Far more than a brawl. Never enough time for merriment but there's always someone finding time to cause trouble."

He continues, "But if it helps, you have come to the right place. Alexandria is a city of wonders both great and terrible, and a place where a man or woman can find a fortune, or reforge themselves into something new. The best way to start is with the Explorer's Guild -- called by some the Adventurer's Guild as well. There are always tasks to be done, even here, and those tasks can require special skills."

"Angoron himself? You must be a warrior of high regard. I had no oruch clan to learn from. No such teachers to guide. Only the feeling. The emotion. It provides a great power, but power without guidance is no power at all." Fayde remarks to Murder with a serious look in his eyes. "Those of arcane talent typically are. But anyone who relies on tremendous skill is typically able to remove something from existence with minimal effort."

He turned his attention to Telamon. "I'm a poor investigator." He admits to him, though he's given a name, and he nods only once. "Too much time, one might say. The Adventurers guild? Hm. Suppose there's no better place for me to try and settle in, one might guess. Any suggestions where one might find room and board?" He looks around him.

"I get the impression a place like this might be....loud for my tastes."

"Hmmph... some mysteries are best left alone, and others should be destroyed. The trouble is knowing which is which.", the Goblin grumps to Telamon. She blinks at the suggestions. "Well, the best place for spicy anything is Goblintown, obviously. As for a blade chased in silver... hrmmm. I dunno. I'd rather not weaken the blade with silver, instead I use silversheen... and have had my sword permanently blessed."

Murder shrugs her shoulders then. "I don't think I am held in high regard. I am a Goblin after all.. my name's Murder. Which probably doesn't endear me to people either." She giggles then... "Power is rarely without guidance.. the trick is... run towards your enemy first /then/ let the red mist in..." The Goblin grins toothily. "Stick by me and I'll show you lots of tips for successful bloodraging."

"As time goes on, you'll learn that sometimes, your opinion of yourself may differ greatly from others -- for good or ill. They may see something in you that you don't." Telamon smiles, absently tracing a fingertip along a marking on the back of his left hand -- a wreath of feathers surrounding three stars. "Don't be afraid when that happens."

He tilts his head to Fayde. "True enough, it can get a little rowdy here. If you head two streets east, there's a boardinghouse -- a bit bare-bones, but it's clean, safe, and inexpensive. Just the thing for a fellow traveling on a tight purse. No shame in that, either; few come here with experience and coin in hand. You have to earn both."

Tel chuckles, lifting his mug again. "Bloodragers. The angrier cousins of sorcerers. Not that I have any room to talk, being a sorcerer myself."

"All mysteries are meant to be discovered. Few are meant to be shared. All of them are destroyed the moment they are discovered. It's a remarkable thing, really. Hidden knowledge has always been something I vastly admired. Perhaps I'll learn plenty, hm?" Fayde questioned of Murder with a little smirk touching his face. "I intend to one day fetch a better sword. But for now, this will suffice. Perhaps one of Mithral someday." He suggests with a smirk.

He tilts his head though. "Your name is murder?" he shrugs. He's heard stranger things. Maybe. "I suppose I will have to stick by you." Though he turns to look upon Telamon. "I fear nothing." He tells him, which of course, is a lie. "But we will see if that ever happens."

He takes note of the mark on the left hand, however. His gaze turns to the direction of the boardinghouse, two streets east. "Hm. It'll do." He takes a long swig of his drink.

"It was nice meeting you both. Perhaps I will learn more of this sorcery from you, Telamon and my rage from you, Murder."

Murder shrugs her shoulders. "If I have a lower opinion of myself than others do, then I am avoiding the trap of pride and hubris, am I not?" That toothy grin returns. "And I can be pleasantly surprised if people do have a higher opinion of me. But I don't let that stop me from being me, and doing what I do. City won't save itself, much to my dismay."

The Goblin nods in agreement with Telamon. "It's run by the ex-adventurers, that boarding house. It's all simple fare, but it's good. Just don't mess with staff, you'll find yourself dragged out by the ear, and kicked in the ass." Perhaps the voice of experience. "You can also find a safe place to sleep at the Temples. The Fire Lodge also lets people stay the night. If you can spend some coin, the Fernwood Pub has rooms too."

She glances away and then back. "I also have a camp nearby. I don't like staying in the city for long periods of time, it stinks..." Her nose wrinkles. "The woods smell nicer, though it's a little chilly sometimes. I get by, trapping rabbits and hunting boar."

The wee woman hops down from the stool, and makes to leave. "I will see you around, Telamon. And you as well, Fayde. I have some traps to check."