Wild Inn

Tenebrae - Tuesday, September 17, 2013, 8:37 PM

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=<* W01: Wayfarer's Inn *>-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

The inn's main room is large yet cosy, with plaster walls and a low ceiling supported by sturdy oaken beams. The decor is sparse: there's little other furniture save for a few rough-hewn wooden tables and chairs, and the only real object of 'ornamentation' is the large, moth-eaten moose head that's set above the kitchen door at the far end of the room. Still, the inn is pleasant in a simple, rustic way, and the delicious smell of food cooking makes it all the more inviting; the place seems to be more of a restaurant than a tavern, and a bar is nowhere in sight.

The innkeeper's counter sits in the east corner, within a few paces of the main entrance. Behind the counter is a small storeroom where one can purchase traveling supplies. The west corner of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase that leads to the second storey.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-- Contents --=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Arik A Dran wearing white furs and scale mail. 29s 1h

Kira A young blonde woman with blonde hair wearing simple 7s 2h

Mikilos Tall male dawn elf, rosey blonde and handsome. 0s 5m

Valadhiel An elfmaid with dark auburn hair. 35s 50s

"Alright, thank you very much. If you happen across any more, can reach me through the Guild or the Academy."

Standing from his table in the corner, Mikilos shakes hands with each of a trio of halfling rangers, the wizard tucking a large bag into his pack, while the rangers tuck some coins into their pouches. Busniess concluded, the elf peers around a bit at the current crowd, while the rangers head out the door.

Valadhiel walks into the inn, a fairly tired expression on her fair features. She adjusts her cloak a bit, noticing the three halflings, and more importantly to her, noticing Mikilos. Her steps gracefully weave through the crowd, as she moves to stand near the wizard, "I was not expecting to see you here."

Kira walks inside and looks over the cozy, if familiar place. Like many that come and go, she looks tired and travelled. Her boots and outerwear are dirty from the walk. She moves in and out of the way for a seat with enough room near it to set down her bag.

Arik enters the Wayfarer as the three halflings leave. He gives them a nod and a curt, "Good hunting," then goes inside himself. He has to guide his Glaive-Guisarme through the door and sets it leaning low against the front window and near to the wall, the act barely paid attention to as if he had already done the same thing a hundred times before. He looks about the inn, a grin on his face, as he pulls his elbows back to stretch his arms and shoulders. "What a great day," Arik says, to no-one in particular. "Fine weather and fair hunting, with a good stop by the inn before the night is out."

Mikilos laughs softly, and offers Valadhiel a quick hug. "Hadn't expected to be out here myself, really. Got a message about some rare components, so came out to make a deal. What brings you out this way?" The wizard peers at the most recent arrivals with idly curioisity, nodding polite greetings.

Valadhiel returns the hug, and actually gives Mikilos a peck on the cheek. She smiles warmly, "Well, I was out hunting for some rare components myself. Nothing too major, but it was nice to get out of the city for a bit. I hate being cooped up."

Arik looks between the three elves that have gathered and sizes each up carefully. "First the reptiles then Khazad, and now Halflings then elves," he says, almost as if speaking to himself though obviously loud enough to be heard. "It seems that each race has different business at this place. Tell me, do any of you here hunt or knit? I should think not, from the looks of you."

Mikilos nods to Val, then quirk a brow at Arik. "Both, actaully. Though neither is my primary occuptation. Though I'm a bit curious what would inspire you to ask about knitting in the first place."

Valadhiel laughs softly, "I don't knit, but I do hunt, and hunt fairly well when I have a mind to do so." She glances curiously at the Dran, leaving one hand to rest on Mikilos' shoulder, "Why do you ask?"

Kira looks up from rummaging around in her bag. "Hmm? Sorry? I hunt if I have to, but I'm not very good at it." Then she realizes that the question maybe wasn't for her and looks apologetic. "Oh, sorry."

Arik raises a brow at the answers, all three of them. "There was a group of Khazad here for a knitting circle, and a group of reptile men here to have a revel after a hunt. Neither seemed of kind to do what the others were, and so I wondered if the elves here are were the same in their difference." He looks between Mikilos, Valadhiel, and Kira. "I am Arik the White Lion of Dran," he says, standing a bit taller for a moment during the introduction. "The people of my homeland are not so diverse as they are here, and I like to see what the peoples here are like."

Mikilos grins, and motions to a nearby table pulling a chair for Valadhiel and leaving one for both Arik and Kira, should they choose to join. "Mikilostravia Abrioudelanarchie Mithralla, Builder Arcane. Though just 'Mikilos' is perfectly fine."

Valadhiel shakes her head, "A tongue-twister even by /our/ standards, Mikilos." She gives Mikilos a wry look and takes the chair next to his, "I am Valadhiel, but you can call me Val if you prefer. When I'm not studying magic, I spend much of my time in the wilds."

"My name is Kira," she smiles around to all three, "and I'm pleased to meet all of you."

"Hah," Arik laughs jovially. "In Dran we try to keep our names short and powerful, and sometimes earn titles to keep us known. Stories are our glory - the kind that are spoken around a fire late at night. I would guess that among the elves you must want a long name so that it takes up more of a book page." Arik takes a seat and pulls it out and sits. "Your name must make quite the mark, Mikilos." He looks to Valadhiel, "And while I am afraid I cannot relate to the study of magic, it is good to know that there are hunters here that are not as strange as the reptile men."

Arik looks over towards the lone elf-girl, Kira, and waves her over with his gauntleted right hand. "Come and sit with us," he says. "I notice that Kira is the shortest name. Do elven names grow to match their owners?"

Mikilos laughs, and unhooks his scabbad from his belt, setting it atop the table. "Some names are from ones parents, not self chosen. Though as for my mark, I keep it simple enough." He taps the hilt of the mithril blade, where the mark of the weaponsmith who forged the longsword is stamped. This particular mark is a mithril aspen leaf, the same as the amulet around the Wizard's neck.

Kira's smile flickers just a moment when she's pointed out, but it immediately broadens at Arik. "Thank you. I don't know know much about elven names, though." She turns towards Mikilos. "If Mikilos' name grows larger, I don't know if anyone would be able to greet him without running short of breath, though."

Zaxx has arrived.

"A leaf mark is a mighty lofty goal for a mark," Arik says. "To think that you will be recognized in years to come when people see a leaf, that is a mighty admirable goal. What to you put it on, other than swords?"

Valadhiel grins, "I'm no enchanter, sadly, though my skill with spells is pretty high. When I need something enchanted I just pinch his ear." She gives Mikilos a wry expression, her own bow carved with intricate runes of elvish origin.

Zaxx wanders in after dusting off and places his rumpled leather hat by the door before he marches through the taproom, looking around. He leans forward as he walks, as if to break past the wall of silence and questioning looks in the diection of personally powerful individuals of note. The mul shows a tight-lipped smile and arrives at the counter this way where he waits until the glowing eyes stopped glowing and the barkeep has no more excuses but to face him and wordlessly place his most un-elfy brew before the bald man who pays double the standard fare and samples it while he looks about to focus on somewhat familiar faces and eventually wave thir way.

Mikilos grins, nodding to Kira. "Well, if you'd like to hear the list of titles I claim, that's an option, though we likely should grab something to eat first." He nods to Arik, and shrugs. "All the items I create. Though I specilize in swords, I craft a wide range of items. I take pride in my work, and stake my repuation, my name, and the honor of my family on every piece." Looking towards Zaxx, the wizard grins, and pushes out another chair with his foot in open inventation.

Arik looks to Zaxx and offers a nod to the man. Arik says, "More elves. It seems this place attracts one kind at a time with at least one noted exception." Arik looks at Mikilos. "Maybe I will seak you out when I want magic on my own steel," he says, then looks to Kira. "Mikilos and Valadhiel are magiciancs. Do you practice magic as well?"

Kira has disconnected.

The dark elf's long ears perk up a little and he swiftly crosses the distance to the table despite the confines the chain should pose and sits down quickly after which he nods a greeting to the others, "Good to see you here and thanks for the space at your table."

Valadhiel glances over at Zaxx, arching a brow towards him but not saying anything derogatory towards the mul. Then again, she does seem to tense, ever so slightly, as if waiting for something bad to happen because of his arrival.

Mikilos quirks a brow as Kira suddenly takes off, but shrugs. Things come up some times. He nods to Arik, and shrugs. "Are a number of crafters within the city, most of them active member of the Explorers Guild. Naturally I'd favor retaining any busniess that may come my way, but in honestly everyone I know of does good work as well."

Arik doesn't even seem to notice Valadhiel's tensing at Zaxx's arrival. He smiles wide to Mikilos and says, "Yes, but not all of them come with a shiny leaf stamp. If you really will be known well enough for that stamp to truly be yours, then I think Arik the White Lion of Dran would do well to carry such a leaf." He looks to the other two at the table. "Each of you should seek such a thing, too, if you do not carry one of his stamps yet. It does not seem like either of you is shy around blades."

Zaxx drinks a long swig from the bitter and slightly pugnant ale, but he seems to enjoy it, stifles a burp with the back of the gloved hand to hold the tankard and says to Valadhiel in that very deep voice of his, "Please relax. The Reosites and the Adventurer's Guild's elders vouch for me. I was part of the pilgrimage to the Eidolon Court an eyeblink of days ago and not one struck me down. But feel free to take a swing at me, one more nick won't disfigure me, fair maiden." He closes his mouth and says silently and with a bit of a mumble while he squints should the lyr or syl maiden take up on the free go at him, "I am a bowyer, if you ever need something in that regard. And, what leaf?"

Valadhiel nods slightly, "Still not a usual sight, though." She chuckles, "Blades are not my preference, as I am one for archery. I do enjoy using my bow when the situation calls for it. Or wizardry, if needed."

Mikilos laughs. "Thank you, but I'm content with my progress as it's been. I've plenty of time to let my reputation grow, and the Arena has been quite kind in that regard." Nodding to Zaxx, he taps the smith-mark upon his own blade, a mithril aspen leaf. "Though I'm not sure if that tale has spread. Have you heard of the Arena and the effects of the Blue Bitch?"

"I have seen the arena in Alexandria, if you mean that," Arik says. "Though I have found stories scarce, at best. A man shared with me a story of killing some ghouls, but there was little enough pride in it." Arik looks about at the elves. "I can see that you elves may have stories of greater things than stones and common soldiering, though, and would love to hear what you have to share." He looks to Valadhiel and adds, "Also, I do not want his mark to be common. If I am to carry it, I would want it to be the mark of kings. I just thought you lot had the kind of look about you."

The shadow-tainted elf smiles a little and sends a quick glance to the sorcerous archer-y lass, but he sticks to the strong ale to comment, "Almost as good as Pine." and say as dryly as sunbaked gravel, "I will not apologize for my presence lest the outhouse calls." He also nods to Mr. Mithralla, "I see. Thank you for the reminder. I have not. Please do share." He finally interjects, "Soldiery is that, spiced up by spell or kept plain, real if you will." His voice is on the loud side for an elf.

Valadhiel has disconnected.

Mikilos nods, and ponders a moment of where to begin. "The Blue Bitch, more formally known as the Azure Queen, has been spreading her influence through the city. Murders and arson on the rise, more than a bit of people suddenly turning to canibalism. One of the places affected was the Arena. Normal sparring would suddenly turn into true battles, resulting in serious injury, and even a few deaths. There was talk of suspending battles, even closeing the Area altogehter, at least for a time. But now, if you go to the Arena, you'll find the sparing equipment to be enchanted, unable to deal lethal wounds. And though many enchanters have offered their services, the majority of the weapons I forged myself, and thus bare my mark."

"That is a great thing," Arik says. "To have your mark on a place like the Arena, and for doing something that fights a villain and helps a great many fighters as well. I think you may need to work on the telling, though. Add a bit more tension. Say something like, 'When cannibalism and insanity claimed the Arena, an army of casualties began to threaten not only the lives of the great men who walk those halls, but threatened the life of the arena itself,' and add something to make your role sound as great as it is. Say, 'When the nobles met to decide how best to kill that monument of glory, a few brave enchanters came, and through guile and clever planning outmaneauvered fate. They enchanted the blades to halt the madness, and many, many of those blades still bear the mark of the mithril leaf.' What do you think?"

Zaxx inclines his shiny head in a slow nod, "I fought that influence in a hideout for a band of cannibals. The arena sounds like a prime target. Thank you for your contribution to orderly combat. That was a great service."

Mikilos laughs, and nods. "It sounds like you'd make a better bard than I. I tend to deal with raw facts. Spinning them into a moving tale isn't my forte."

The bald elf shrugs, "It is almost like I am an elf. Music is my vice." He grins and drinks after motioning a skoal.

Mikilos laughs again, and nods. "I suppose everyone has their arts. You with music, and I with my crafts."

Kravar has arrived.

Mikilos sits with a few others at a table near the center of the room, chatting idly. Several empty chairs remain at the table as well.

Arik says, "I am no bard. Storytelling is the way of my village, it is how we pass the long nights, and it is how we know what it is to be a man and to be great. I have heard many stories, and I have a few of my own I like to tell. It is a good thing, to tell them well, because good stories are told by others, and if they are your stories, then you will be known." Ariklooks around the inn, then stands up. "I think it is time for me to go. I must arrange my camp before I get up at dawn. IT was good to meet you, Mikilos, and it was good speaking to all of you."

Arik has left.

Zaxx who sits with the lyr wizard waves to the parting furclad hulk, "Farewell." He stretches his arms right after and does not comment, because he is gone. "I do craft, but the only magic involved is that of my hands and muscle. I will be sure to beseech you with another need for enchantments fairly soon, but if you and your taents are claimed by others, I will find myself another. I know a talented human I can go to as well."

Mikilos nods. "Alexandros is blessed in that respect. Many skilled craftmen willing to share their efforts with others. Though in truth I cannot say I approve of all such shareings. Some works are a bit to chaotic and prode to malfunction for my tastes, though I do acknowledge the improvements they have wrought."

Kravar enters the inn, glancing around briefly before he heads over to Mikilos' table. "Well met, friends!" he booms loudly. "Might I join you for a drink?"

"Do sit," says the other elf to squat one of the seats. "Being dangerous to themselves and others is the perogative of gnomes and goblins. Nobody tells them to act otherwise, not a soul brings that to the city council. There is not much to be done about it so far." Zaxx also waves with his emptied tankard, but none answer his request.

Kravar slides into the chair, adjusting his swordbelt and sliding his shield off of his shoulder and onto the floor to lean against one of the table legs. He waves to a server for a drink and then turns to look at the others. "What's this? What happened? Some recent calamity, or do you mean general misfortunes?"

Mikilos snorts softly, but smiles. "No no, are quite a few who tell artificers to act otherwise. The majority choose not to listen. The rare exceptions tend to take more care in their efforts, but still tred paths too dangerous for my personal tastes." He nods to Kravar, and smiles. "No nothing, so dramatic. Just talk of general trends. Though certainly there are enough misfortunes of late which could be talked about."

Zaxx gets a hold of the barmaid to point at his empty beer carrying device and hands it to her, "They could be contained with clerical blessings, but that would not halt those who practice intuitively alone." He shrugs.

Kravar quirks an eyebrow, but doesn't question them about misfortunes. Instead he looks at Mikilos. "And how is your own trade these days? It seems your competition grows every day!"

Mikilos grins, and shrugs. "Well enough. The customer base grows as well. So yes, compitition exists, but is hardly a cutthroat level. At times I find myself overrun with comissions and forced to turn people away, at least for a time. And other times I find myself without work, though that leaves me open to follow other activities, such as my trip here today."

The taproom damsel professionally untangles herself frm the elf's light grip to be on her way and finish with this round of emptying and restocking her large tray. Zaxx smiles and watches the interaction between the two others.

Kravar seems to brighten slightly when Mikilos mentions he is without work. "I think fortune smiles upon us both, my friend. I acquired a new sword only days ago. I'd like to have it enchanted -- and who better to commission than yourself!"

Mikilos rolls his eyes but smiles at Zaxx's anticts, himself leaving the maid be. The wizard has taken neither food nor drink. But his intrest perks, nodding to Kravar. "Well, that depends on the enchantment. There are those who specalize into areas in which they are the superior. But I'm certainly willing to hear whatever you have in mind."

The woman would have ignored him and he would have dried up! Zaxx grins, though, and quirks first one brow, then another while he nods to Kravar to encourage him to talk.

Kravar gives Zaxx a quick look, but doesn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. He turns back to Mikilos, then taps his chin thoughtfully. "Just a standard enchantment, making the sword lighter, better balanced, and giving it a keener blade."

Mikilos nods. "A basic enchantment then. I can certainly do that easily enough, and at a price I think you'll find very competitive."

Kravar nods in approval. "I'd hoped to hear just those words." He glances around to see if anyone else is paying too much attention to their table, then hunches forward to work out the details.

Mikilos is less concerned about being overheard than he might be, but such transactions are a little more common. "I'll want to check the blade first. A simple pointy bit of metal won't hold the enchmantment. While the magics strengthen the metal, they also put a great deal of stress on it. If the weapon isn't able to bare the strain, it will fall apart. But, assumeing the blade is good, the process will take about two days in the lab, and a charge of 1200 gold piece, or equivelant coinage."

The armored elf stands with a rattle of chain and tells the others, "I am to leave, I am afraid. The sun is soon to rise and I better be on my way to catch a few farmers in their cottages rather than wander field to field and ask my way around. Do be well, fellows. G'luck to yer enchantments, but I need to see about work to afford some more for me!" He knocks on the table and wanders to the table, brandishing a fine steel ale to stroll mug -dwarven ingenuity be blessed.

Zaxx has left.

Karanya has arrived.

Kravar nods at Mikilos, considering. "That seems fair. I happen to have the weapon here." He puts his hand on the hilt of his sword, then seems to think better of drawing it here in the middle of the inn. Instead he unbuckles his swordbelt, then sets the sheathed sword down on the table between them. He makes a 'feel free' gesture and then leans back.

Mikilos nods, and examines the weapon, briefly, but throughly, before nodding again. "A good piece, though I don't recognize the work. You said you got it locally?"

It is an invasion! Okay, maybe not. The door to the tavern opens letting with it a rush of exchanging air and yet another Aesir. This a woman with hair the color of fresh spilled blood. Karanya swaggers up to the bar, ordering a lager. The she leans twisting a little to let her gaze settle on the blonde Aesir male and the elf at his table.

Kravar hesitates. "After a fashion. I took it from a brigand, one of a band that had been plaguing local travellers and caravans."

Mikilos nods, having no problem with loot from brigands. No small amount of his own wealth came from such sources. "I can get started as soon as I get back to town. I don't forsee any problems, but just in case, what's the best method to reach you?" The wizard peers with mild curiousity at the most recent arrival, touching a hand to his brow in polite greetings whan the other's eye is caught.

Kravar turns to follow Mikilos' gaze, his own lingering on Karanya for a moment before he turns back to the table. "The Explorer's Guild, I suppose - or the Red Swallow Inn, either will be able to get a message to me."

Karanya takes her drink from the innkeeper. Then she moves away from the man's desk. A nod is offered the elf, a polite gesture, even if there is a faint studying that is a bit to keen. The Aesir man gets another look as well as she starts in the pair's general direction.

Kravar turns as he catches sight of the approaching Karanya out of the corner of his eyes. He stands up and then turns. "Greetings!" he booms once Karanya draws near enough. "I'm Kravar." Then he picks up his shield, slipping it over his shoulder to rest against his back once more.

Mikilos chuckles softly, but nods to Karanya. "And I Mikilos. Greetings, madam."

Karanya pauses her stride a couple of steps before the table. "Greetings, kinsman." She states, and turns her attentions to Mikilos, "Evenin, Elf. Begging yer pardons sir, but I am no whore hawker."

Kravar blinks, then shoots an bemused glance at Mikilos. Then he shakes his head slightly. "Well, I've got to get back to the city. The Swallow must be ready to give away my room by now. Farewell to both of you."

Kravar has disconnected.

Mikilos waves fare well to Kravar distractedly, blinking in amusement at Karanya. "Did I inadvertantly suggest you were, or is there something about myself which I am unaware?"

Karanya nods to Mikilos as he seems to make a hasty exit. Then she lifts her chin and tilts to the side a little. "Aye, that's what a madam be." She says a she takes another step forward and grabs up the recently vacated chair to plant herself. "Madam run brothels."

Mikilos barks a shorts laugh, and shakes his head. "Madam's run households, be they a house of ill repute, or elsewise. It's ment as a simple term of respect and politeness."

Karanya leans her head backand keeps the faint cant to it a moment. Apparently she descides the answer is good enough, "Oh. Well met then." Her eyes steeling again though, "Not a scullery either. How does yer business?"

Mikilos shrugs. "Well enough. I'm no begger on the street corner, but neither am I rolling in coins. But please, have a seat and tell me, if not a hawker or a scullery, what exactly are you?" He smiles, teaseing.

"Ships, I fashion them, and I sail them." Karanya states as she leans back in her seat a little. "They say elf-folk no more of trees than any man. If you were to want to fashion a boat.. What of these southern woods are the best? And where should I be cuting?"

Mikilos nods, and frowns mildly, considering the question seriously. "...the pines of the low mountains should have good sap to seal the planks, and grow tall and straight enough to be of some use. So my bet would say the lands just north of the city. Which ones are already in harvest I don't know. The docks run strong, so there should be good lumber movement already, but it's not an enterprise I've kept track of." The tone suggests he does keep track of a great many others.

"Pine does make a good main mast, nice floor planking too. Ya want a sturdy oak though for the center line and ribbing." She comments and eyes her drink and then looks at the Innkeeper's direction before leaning forward towards the man, "I think this might be an ale, not a lager."

Mikilos nods, and shrugs, riseing. "Mayhaps. Is a simple inn, and think most would find it close enough. For myself, havn't tried so I couldn't say. Anycase, the sun will be on the rise soon, and I'd best be on the road when it happens. Fare well miss Builder, may you find the trees you seek."

Karanya nods as she continue to study the beer and try to classify it more specifically, "Good and safe travels."

• • • TinyMUX Disconnected ***