As jureel trudged along the country side he glanced over at the stream he was walking along. A few fish were seen as he moved shaking his head he chuckled, he had to get into town tonight. The half-elf fixed his holster and his pack and stopped for a moment. He looked behind him for a moment, he had gotten tired of being treated like an outsider when it was his grandparents that suggested the marrage between his elven mother and human father. Shaking his head he turned back towards the path headed for Tarant. As the day turned to dusk Jureel arrived at the gates, looking around he didn't know anyone, nor anyone knew him, but that was as it should be, he continued his journy down one of the streets towards and inn, opening the door he glanced around, brushing a strand of his brown hair away from his eyes. Walking in he headed to the counter ringing the bell the innkeeper came out, Jureel requested a room, paying over money for a fortnight he walked up the stairs to his room
Golgotha leaves his work at the blacksmith shop with a months pay of Shillings to spend at the Pub. If Tarant is good for anything, it is good for its liquir. Golgy walks into the bar and signals the bartender to him. I will have a shot of Rum. After a few shots I payed the man and started to stumbled my way to my Hut on the east side. I noticed a new man in Town. Strange half-elf with brown hair. I was to drunk to talk so i tried to get back to the hut, but passed out on the way, just another day...... _________________ " Now I am become Death, Destroyer of Worlds " <font size=-1>[ This Message was edited by: Golgotha on 2001-05-12 21:07 ]</font> <font size=-1>[ This Message was edited by: Golgotha on 2001-05-12 21:07 ]</font>
FO Walks from the room Beside Jureel Krix's. He moves down the stairs and hums a tune he doesn't recall hearing before. I passed by a drunkard in the courtyard, look's like a blacksmith... <font size=-1>[ This Message was edited by: FO_Landon on 2001-05-12 22:07 ]</font>
Ack Your interupting the Rping, please delite that message when you can, and no, my Fallout name is not Golgotha, it is AshMaker. :This post will be delited when the above one is.:
A wearied man walked into the tavern. Dusty from the road and the outdoors, he looked tired. He removed from his back a group of large bundles tied to a large wooden pack-frame, taking care to rearrange the metal casings and glass bulbs that hung from it so as not to crush them as he did so. Behind him a large, spider-like mechanical contraption trundled obediently to a halt as one of its sharpened legs bit into the wooden floor and splintered a board. "'ey! Get 'im outa' 'ere," a barkeep yelled. "Doan' wan' trouble, y' 'ear?" Ghent nodded gracefully and obediently, and as he did so he took a deep and slow bow. "I apologize, my dear sir, and hope that no affront has been taken. I did not properly anticipate the affect that this ... device would have on your ... establishment." As he rose from the bow, he neatly bent over the arachnid and twisted several parts together. The beast then slowly collapsed as hydraulic fluid slowly lost pressure, and after it slumped to the floor Ghent twisted its legs up and then lifted the resulting twisted metal package out of the middle of the floor where it rested in a trough worn by decades of traveling feet and placed it near a table. The half-orc barkeep, unaccustomed to such a character who would treat one of his status in such a manner in this tavern in this section of town, nodded in a slightly stunned manner. "S'owrite, then, no problems," he muttered as he quickly bent his attention to the suddenly intense task of cleaning glasses. Ghent sat back upon the smooth and worn wooden bench next to the folded-up automaton. From his eyes shot fine glints of reflected light from the world outside. With these grey eyes he surveyed the room, and, as if finding it to his liking, he let himself relax a little. Tension left his arms and shoulders. Here, then, were a time and a place to stay with other sentients.
Jureel walked down the stairs, his packed having been left upstairs, but the flintlock pistol still holstered at his side. He glanced around the room an eyebrow quirking at ghent shaking it off he headed towards the bar counter, sliding onto a stool he nodded to the tender "Elven wine please." He said leaving a few silver looking coins on the bar, the tender left the drink in front of Jureel
Flipz looks up from his ale at the whining sound of some metal contraption at the door. He sees a guy with a metal spider enter and hears the barkeep, his brother Carl, mention something about trouble and the mysterious fellow does something to the spider and it goes limp. Flipz begins to wonder what something like that is doing here. If a guy can build something like that he can surely afford better than watered down Elven Wine at Carl's! It almost makes him angry. This guy should take his fancy spider and head into Tarant proper. Leave us normal folk alone and not taunt us with his toys. Oh well, if Carl sees fit to serve him then he will just have to deal with it. He is supposed to stop trouble at the pub, not start it.
Looking around the room again, Ghent smiled. This was exactly what he needed. There were enough toughs in this room, for sure. It was necessary to find those who would do just the job and leave it at that. Still, professional help was _very_ difficult to find. Maybe he would be better off somewhere else... He chased the thought away with an annoyed frown. With intelligent compatriots came self-motivated thought, and that was something that was to be avoided at all costs.
Carl scooped up the Half-Elf's money, and nodded at the patron. Another face, taking advantage of the easy anonymity offered by Tarant. Flipz was giving Carl the disapproving look that older brothers often give their siblings. Carl wondered what it was this time. Since Dad had died young, Flipz' opinion and approval had come to mean more and more to Carl. The polite traveler with the mechanical critter was looking around, and a satisfied smile was teasing the corners of his mouth. It turned to a frown. The man was looking for something, and hoped to find it here, or Carl was a Half-Elf slut...
Having already noticed the 'goings on' in the inn, I decided to finish my drink and leave. A /friend/ had told me that I could easily find some work here and that the best place to find any would be the inn. I would not have to ask for work, work would find me. As I slowly finished my drink, I recalled Golgotha leaving in his usual swaying manner and wondered if I would have to drag him to his door tonite or had he managed to stagger back to it himself. (I havent seen the strange man with the mechanikal contraptions before, maybe tomorrow he will approach me for some work that he may need doing?) Adjusting my hood so as to cover my face, lest anyone realise that I am female, drinking and not dancing in a tavern, I raised from my seat, nodded to the innkeeper, and left. Finding Golgotha had not made it to his hut, I pick up his ankles and drag him back to his door. G'night Golgotha, and sorry I banged your head on that stone back there.
Krix walked out heading for a shop, pack in tow, looking up and around the city it was a strange sight for one who had lived in the country all his life. Heading for a weapons shop he walked through the door, the shopkeeper looked at him "Sorry I don't sell to kids." he spit at Krix, Krix's eyebrows narrowed. "I'm not here to buy I'm here to sell." letting the pack hit the counter with a thud. Taking out several very fine flintlock pistols he shoved them at the keeper "Very nice........ here." He tossed a very large pack of coins, krix cough them and put them into one of his pockets. "Come around if you have more weapons now your scaring customers so skat." He yelled, Krix shook his head and walked out looking around "Well guess I can spend some time looking around."
Carl watched the Half-Elf leave, and wondered if he was following the female out. Of course, the Half-Elf probably hadn't recognized her for a female under that cloak, but Carl, an experienced people watcher, had. He briefly considered sending Murt, his cousin and somewhat overpaid bouncer, after them to make sure that she was okay. But he hadn't sensed any malice in the Half-Elf, so he let it go. The man with the mechanical critter had watched them go, too. When someone was looking for something, it usually meant that there was profit to be had. That, or trouble. Or both... Carl moved down to the far end of the bar, where no one was sitting. He motioned the man over. Leaning close, he said quietly, "Let me know if'n I can be gettin' ya anythin'. Anythin' at all..."
Sensing that something was not quite right with the newcomers, I decided to hang around and see what happened. I spotted the half-elf leaving the Inn and enter the shop across the way. Smirking to myself I knew he would have a hard time in there. Curiosity was starting to get the better of me, so I started to walk towards the shop just as the stranger came out. And I noticed that his pack seemed a lot lighter. I didn't like it, I didn't like it at all. I was wondering whether to follow him, or go back to the abandoned caves I was sleeping in, and sharpen my Bastard Sword +1. I will have to keep my eye on this 'half-elf'. I presumed that the 'techie' with the strange spider thing was still in the tavern. What is happening to this quiet town, why are these strangers here, and where are they headed? And what did happen to that Ogre that was here, I havent seen him for a couple of days? Something is just not quite right! _________________ For you Bad Buck, I will always be Bad! Go to our web site or I will hunt you down: http://www.ArcanumWorld.co.uk <font size=-1>[ This Message was edited by: Knicitta on 2001-05-18 07:23 ]</font>
Damn these little ones, laughing and pointing at me as if I were a moron. I should be used to it by now, but that bumbling excuse for a doctor... Well, at least I took care of him. Maybe I can ease my cares for a while in this fine looking establishment. Dim, it suits my mood. Dearest sir, I would like to quaff one of your delightful beverages, here is my coin. But of course it came out as "Orc, beer, money here." Technology, what a farce. A mechanical spider in the corner, maybe I should sit next to it to give the little technologist a fright. It will never work in the proximity of a mage such as myself.
Carl took the money and set the man's drink on the bar. Normally, Carl would have handed the man his beer, but this moron might have dropped it during the exchange. Carl often used the little trick of handing someone their drink in order to get a better feel for them, but he also didn't like cleaning up messes. Drunkards and Dummies (like when the Circus came through town and all those Half-Ogres decended on his bar), he took no chances with. There was something different about this Dummy, though. The way he had looked at the man with the mechanical critter... Most morons might have suspicion in their eyes, or even been sizing him up as a mark. But the look on this Dummies face was one of ... superiority? Hard to tell. Carl wondered if maybe it was an act. Carl wanted to tell Murt, via some meaningful glances, to watch the newcomer. Murt, however, was busy watching the serving wenches, as usual. Talk about Dummies...
Petting the mechanical spider, "Good Doggie" gives me the perfect excuse to sit down next to the little technologist. Now all I have to do is drink my beer and wait. It shouldn't be too long. He's starting to look at me a bit nervously. My pleasures these days are cruder than I'd prefer. But then, the world's a cruder place than it ought to be.
Krix headed down the street towards another shop, a black smith's shop, which was still open although most likely nearing a close. "Excuse me, you got any spare metal parts or anything for sale?" He asked, the Human smith looked up "Depends... what are you looking for?" He said. Krix shrugged "Parts for guns mainly." Krix said. The smith looked up "Git kid, I don't deal with techie's." He snarled. Krix shooked his head and stomped off down the street once again
