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Post by Attilius on Jan 21, 2021 22:33:20 GMT -12
(Female red head Hurkette will leave his massive 10' great scimitar back at the office since it's a pretty unique and recognizable item.)
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Post by DM Bob on Jan 22, 2021 14:56:25 GMT -12
The Furled Sail is the place to visit then... and some of you have been there before. As you walk to the docks proper, you notice a decent number of men and women in the streets, carrying candles or crude oil lamps of weak tin or glazed ceramic. Docked proper? Perhaps a half dozen skimmers in sight. The silt is relatively calm, but eddies are seen forming minute devils of dust that disappear as soon as they're seen.
The bar itself is crowded and you hear it before seeing it proper. There are still a few food vendors about hawking skewers of kip and olive or tough inix, bitter orange and neep. Past dark, the libations are kept inside... as was the Law. Some dock types, half elves, human, elf and a lone dwarf are seen milling to and fro. At least a pair are seen bringing food into the bar.
Inside, long tables are seen. But unlike the time before? They're stacked to the edges of the room. A trio of elvish women wearing tribal garb are playing bone flute, drum and hand cymbals. The one with the tin cymbals is singing an upbeat song in a smattering of common and elvish. The room is near full, with a cadre of locals dancing - stomping to the beat as drink and chatter is exchanged boisterously.
No tareks are seen, but a couple dwarves are about, including the one with food from the street.
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Post by Attilius on Jan 22, 2021 22:37:06 GMT -12
Red Sonja will pass the trio musicians on the way to an empty table. If she spots a bowl at their feet, she'll toss a ceramic into the bowl with a nod to them and their musical beat. She'll sit with her back to the wall and listen, nod to the music and watch the rooms dancers (but is actually watching the dwarves)...
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Post by AthasianLaborer on Jan 23, 2021 0:07:37 GMT -12
Victory will approach the food vendor and request a kip skewer or three. As he pulls out his money to pay, he fumbles the few silver in his hand enough to give those around a quick view of his silver before recovering it and replacing it in his pocket (save that which is paid for the food). After paying for his food, he'll purchase a horn of whatever seems to be getting drunk by most people. He has no intentions on drinking it, just attempting to blend in. Victory will keep an eye on the food vendor and the party while putting on the façade of drunkeness. He's going for "lone mul drunkard with more silver than sense" while he is fishing for victimizers.
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Post by Niachi on Jan 23, 2021 7:31:05 GMT -12
Laakh orders a pitcher of broy for the table, adds a few extra bits to the tip for the barkeep but no silver exposed. Sits where he can see the both the bar and the door. visibly unknots his tired shoulders from a day of labor. Poison Sense on their drinks and any food bought. Unwraps a wheel of Mind Cheese as he slaps the table with the beat of the dancers, watching the show and washing down a half wheel with elbow pokes and nods to his companions at the more attractive dancing girls /musicians/servers. His eyes roam around the room casually.
Every few seconds he glances at the bar for anyone gesturing or looking at their table. Anyone standing out or trying to blend in and failing? Is the same big mul with a club at the door?
Poison Sense: rolled 2.
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Post by DM Bob on Jan 23, 2021 13:23:24 GMT -12
Standing room only. The only obvious guards are two burly human men standing next to the door entrance that seem to eye you up and down before entry.
And it's damned loud.
Mugs of broy are distributed within the bar proper as there's no place to drop a pitcher. No poison is sensed.
The music quickens and it seems that the song is known to the patrons. They chant along. (Imagine a cross between Draka Brakha and Gogol Bordello.) There is a smell of husk in the air. Someone has lit a pipe of the illicit substance. No one seems to care.
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Post by Niachi on Jan 23, 2021 15:15:56 GMT -12
Laakh chills and digs the scene.
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Post by Attilius on Jan 23, 2021 15:50:06 GMT -12
Laakh chills and digs the scene. Same and watches the dwarves |
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Post by DM Bob on Jan 24, 2021 14:50:51 GMT -12
Everyone is hopped up and partaking. (Imagine that bar in town that's currently open during Covid only because it has a gaming license and no morals in real life.) Downright hedonistic.
If you're a local, you'd know this only tends to occur on three occasions:
A decent number of skimmers are in...
a war victory...
or
a gladiatorial game that the establishment bet on went to the House's favor.
Sometimes more than one. Usually just one though.
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Post by Attilius on Jan 24, 2021 22:35:14 GMT -12
As a bar maid passes, Red Sonja gets her attention and asks "What's the occasion tonight? Some long odds win in The Criterion today?"
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Post by Niachi on Jan 25, 2021 12:16:08 GMT -12
(OOC will post later, adulting must come first)
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Post by Niachi on Jan 26, 2021 10:50:55 GMT -12
With this loud rowdy crowd, Laakh leans to hear the barmaid's reply. As she answers Red Sonja, he catches her eye, briefly shows a palmful of ceramics with a peek of silver underneath. Then his hand tucks it away while sipping his drink with a roguish eyebrow twinkle.
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Post by DM Bob on Jan 26, 2021 14:28:06 GMT -12
"MONEY HAS BEEN COMIN' INTA TOWN!" The brunette half elf shouts as she gets your broys. "RUMOR THAT WAR WILL BE SOON FOR TYR... AN' OUR HOME BE SELLIN' TO ALL FRONTS!" She replies as she notices the gleam of silver.
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Post by Attilius on Jan 26, 2021 18:54:04 GMT -12
Red itches her nose to cover her mouth as she speaks quietly to the team at the table "Ask her about the two dwarves. If one of them is our mark, let's follow him home..."
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Post by DM Bob on Jan 27, 2021 7:19:10 GMT -12
"THOSE TWO? THEY WORK FOR THE PATRICIANS... THE MUL TEMPLAR OF THE DOCKS... WHAT'S HIS NAME...?" She thinks. "GIMME A MINUTE, MY BOSS WOULD KNOW."
She comes back.
"Sherval. One of the Dockmasters." She states quietly as she holds out a palm for a tip.
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