Pubbing

Tenebrae - Thursday, January 08, 2015, 8:33 PM

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-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* A07: Fernwood Pub *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

The common room of the Fernwood Pub dominates the inn, spacious and airy because of the high, vaulted ceiling. Ornately carved beams of dark, polished wood form a lattice overhead, supporting the arched roof two storeys above the floor. To the right of the double-door entry is a spiral staircase, winding upwards to a balcony that rings and overlooks the main area. Large windows at this level grant an excellent view of the river to the west and colorful market stalls to the north and east. An air of coziness is salvaged by keeping the pub dimly lit; parchment-shrouded mana lanterns hang at intervals from the base of the balcony, nestled amongst lush, magically propagated ivy and ferns that grow over this false demi-ceiling and the struts that support it.

The bar is sleek and simple, comprised of meticulously polished black lacquer. Tables are set under the darker niches formed by the balcony floor as well as on the balcony itself. A few are deliberately sized to accommodate halflings and gnomes, but the majority are meant for human-sized individuals. A large common table is on the main floor, set before a semi-circular stage situated against the western wall. Beside it, with pipes mounted upon the wall and running up past the balcony and almost to the ceiling, is a refurbished pipe organ made to look like the one lost when the Fernwood was destroyed during the Merkabah Siege.

The black stone war golem shakes his head, "It would be a waste... I can neither taste or know its effects. Only magical drinks would have any effect or beneficial. I can't taste those, some I imagine to be thankful for not being able to." He considers the dragon angle, "Though I know how to converse with such... I've yet to meet one, though I've heard they can be temperamental in the best situations." Vroole considers that a some more, "I would think letting them sleep would be the better advice."

A cold wind blows from the west, driving charcoal clouds before it and blotting out the stars in isolated patches overhead. The air is clear and elsewhere the stars shine brightly.

"Humorous they may be," Oliver debates, "and I'd gladly laugh /with/ one, if he were on my side of the battlefield," he chuckles, raising his refilled green hornet glass to his lips and taking another sip, with a wrinkle of his nose, "still not sure I like it or not," he continues. "But you couldn't pay me all the gold in Alexandria to laugh /at/ a dragon, even a brass one..." he glances across the room, "now those gnomes," he points out, as they appear to be assembling something out of their glasses, some plates, and a couple of utensils, "might be amusing to laugh at... if they don't blow us up with whatever it is they're concocting..."

The pub is relatively quiet tonight; in fact, apart from a handful of other patrons, including a good half-dozen gnomes at one of the gnome-sized tables, the three at the bar make an odd sight: a bowman clad in grey from head to toe is the one who's speaking now, with a red-robed fellow, and a war golem, who is the only one of the three who doesn't have a drink in front of him.

Mikilos blows in with a gust of winter air, turning quickly to close the door firmly behind him before looking around. Taking a step inside, the overtall elf stops short, turns back, and opens the front door again. Removing the edge of his cloak, he shuts the door once more, and heads for the bar proper, muttering absently.

Cesran hmms, "You might want to speak to another warforged named Munch. He can eat and taste things. Of course he is a much different configuration then you are." He nods, "Very true, even with those metalic dragons you want to keep on their good side and the chonomatic ones tend to be bad tempered." He nods to the bartender as his drink is refilled and he takes a sip of it.

The war golem turns his head as the door opens and the elven man is nodded to before responding to the others at the bar first, "As are all warforged I am sure. IT was the intention of my creator for me not to be distracted by baser things such as food and drink... No I was meant to observe and learn. Though without him to return to now, I must find my own ways. Books and the nature of living beings is far more fascinating." Or so it has always been with Vroole.

Oliver snorts, "bad tempered, is it?" he asks, swirling his drink around in its glass. "That has to be the understatement of the millennium," he tells Cesran, looking up at the swirl of cold wind, twice, "oi, shut it! It's cold out there!" he calls to the elf, flashing a grin at the debacle of the cloak. Turning back to the war golem, he nods, "me, I like my food and drink - even if this green stuff is not quite to my taste," he adds, taking another sip. "At least I don't think it is... I'm more an ale fellow than this sweetness..."

Mikilos speaks quietly with the bartender a moment before turning focus to the table, nodding to those there with a smile. "Hello Cesran. Trying to get others to join your EmeraldWasp addiction?"

Cesran smiles, "Observing and learning is fine, but sometimes you need to experience something to truly learn about it." He looks over at Mikilos and he raises his glass, "I'm not trying to get anyone to join anything. I enjoy my green hornets and if others are curious about them then I encourage them to at least try them."

"Try it I did," Oliver agrees, setting his now-empty glass aside, and signaling this time for another ale. "Can't say I particularly like it... but I did try it. It looked interesting," he adds. "The company's more interesting, though, and watching them..." he gestures over his shoulder at the increasingly-drunk gnomes, and the tower of glassware, plates, and balanced forks rising up from their table.

Mikilos mmms, accepting his mug of hot cider as it arrives, and taking a seat at the central table with the rest. "Should head to the Ox Tavern sometime, if you want interesting. Never know what matter of slop the Oxley's may try to sell you. Though if you luck into meeting the owner, Myrana, she does serve some quality products to make up for it. Ever heard of Gunpowder Whisky?" Glancing to the gnomes, the elf shrugs, and nods. "A popular passtime, it seems. Though of late it's the goblins who've been making a go of it. Bring their own metal rods to challenge each other with. 'Stackers' I think they call it."

Cesran sticks out his tongue, "Ugh Gunpowder Whisky, yuck. Talk abot something that can explode. You are lucky if you still have your tongue after you drink it." He says as he continues to drink. "You are better off drinking a goblet of lava."

"Goblins, metal rods, and alcohol?" Oliver looks sideways at Mikilos, "sounds dangerous," and he flashes a grin again. "I haven't been by the Ox yet; I found this place the day I hit town, and liked the ale well enough," he accepts the mug brought to him by the barkeep, downs half of it in one slug, and nods when he exchanges a glance with the barkeep, accepting a second mug to save the barkeep the trouble of walking over in five minutes' time when the first one is gone. A bit of a champion drinker, Oliver seems to be. At the very least, he's serious about it, as his stack of mugs - plus two of the odd-shaped glasses that once contained green hornets from the green residue at the bottom - rivals that of the gnomes. At least if he's intoxicated, he seems to be genial enough about it. He grins at the description of the whisky, "each his own, eh? Maybe I'll drop by and give it a go, some evening..."

Mikilos hehs, and grins at Cesran. "That's just a rumor, you know. Franklin's lack of tongue is quite unrelated." Nodding to Oliver, he frowns mildly. "For you first trip, I'd recomend early afternoon. The evenings can get.... rowdy."

Stjepan ducks in under the lintel of the doorframe, apparently happy to get in from the weather.

Cesran nods, "Just make sure you are in good with the healers if you are going there in the evening." He looks over at Mikilos and smirks, "Ah rowdy is one way to discribe it. I think I've seen giantborn drinking games that are less rowdy."

Cesran, Mikilos, Oliver, and Vroole are sitting at one of the tables near the bar, with Oliver drinking ale, and Cesran with his usual green hornets. Vroole, of course, being a golem, drinks nothing. The topic of conversation appears to be drinking games, and alcohol in general; over in the corner, a half-dozen gnomes, well into their cups, are playing stack-the-plates... and mugs... and forks... and barring that, climbing on one another's shoulders to add yet another object - possibly a salt shaker? - to the top of the stack. Oliver chuckles at the description. "Now that might be something to watch," he agrees. "And rowdy's sometimes my speed," he strokes his chin thoughtfully. "Question... if I were a - shall we say disreputable sort - which I'm not," he hastens to add, "but if I were, where might I go of an evening, if I were in the mood to become insensible on drink?"

Mikilos snorts, but smiles, nodding to Cesran. "To be fair, have seen some gaintborn drinking games that were quite.... sedate. Rather dull, really. Wee hours of the morn, trio of Drani with giantborn hangovers, but not a one willing to admit defeat and end the hours of drinking games. I believe one was 'Who can finish off another mug first, and set it upon the table, without making any noise'." Turning to Olive, he shrugs. "Well, the Ox isn't exactly known for being a nice place, but might find better luck at Mama Rosies in GoblinTown. Quite the gambling hall, and has a wide range of activites going on. Many of which just happen to disappear when the Watch happens by."

Stjepan straightens up, and brushes off his shouldres a little, before heading to the bar. His ears pick up at 'giantborn', but he's here first for a little mulled wine. After that, everything else.

"A sound piece of advice," Oliver nods to Mikilos. "I'll be sure to check it out," his expression goes grim. "It sounds the type of place I might find the ... individual ... I'm looking for in," he adds, polishing off his last mug of ale and getting to his feet. "For now, though... I think I'll head off to get some sleep..." he taps his forehead as he raises the hood of his grey cloak to cover his head. "Hope to see you lot in here again some time," he says, and, collecting his bow from against the wall, takes his leave.

Oliver has disconnected.

GAME: You nominated oliver for good roleplay.

Cesran finishes off his green hornet, "Aye, but when the mug is as big as a toddler, it's a little harder to finish." He nods to Oliver, "You'll see me here certainly." He looks over to Mikilos, "So what brings you in?"

Mikilos quirks a brow at the sudden departure, but shrugs, turning focus to Cesran. "Had a delivery down at the bridge, and stopped on the way back for something warm. That wind out there is a bit wicked." Taking a sip of his cider, the elf nods towards the door and those recently departed. "I don't suppose who caught who he's looking for? Always a chance I've heard of them."

(New BB message (14/20) posted to 'Rules Clarifications' by Job Tracker: A: Thanix: War Golems- Endurance )

Cesran ahs and nods, "Always more work for those that can make magical objects." He nods, "It is, I always forget how cold it gets here, positively chilling." He hmms, "He's looking for someone? He didn't mention it to me."

Stjepan wraps his hands around his mug, fingers overlapping on the ceramic. He curls around it, sipping daintly. What? It's hot.

Mikilos shrugs. "Said something as he was leaving. Anyway, yes, but I find clockwork items to be some of the bigger orders. Parts for the mechanical bridge, and such. Seems the average craftsman hasn't the delicate touch for some of the works, the average magi hasn't the technical knowhow, and the artificers... well, they keep wanting to 'improve' things. Or so I'm told."

Cesran smiles, "Well fortunately they came to you so that it can be done right and we won't have to worry about crossing the bridge. I'm assuming it's to let some of the bigger ships get further inland without having to lower their masts to get under the bridges?" He asks and nods as he thinks back, "Ah yes he did, but he didn't mention it before."

Mikilos nods. "They do very careful work in making sure all the parts are in top shape. One mistake could lead to all sorts of trouble. Same for mechanical airship parts. Though those I typically refer to another crafter. Just how is your hand at metalwork, by the way?"

Cesran waves a hand, "I try not to touch the stuff, I am good at the knowledge application of it. I can put it together well enough if I have to, but I'd prefer to use parts that someone else has made. Besides I have more then enough magical enchanting to keep me busy as well as adventures and helping Rune battle against the Warlord."

Stjepan drinks his drink, warms up, then heads for the door.

Mikilos grins, and nods. "I enjoy it. Turning base materials into a complex useful result. But I do understand that other tasks take priority. Though I must say Rune seems at a bit of a stalemate just now. Wars seem to go into a bit of a pasue in the winter." He frowns a moment. "Wonder if could take some advantage of that. Arcane troops unaffected by the cold. Ice golems, or some such."

Cesran nods, "Perhaps so, but there is plenty to do. Training and making sure that the dran stay where they are supposed to stay." He hmms, "Perhaps, but the inherient weakness is that ice melts.. I've fought ice trolls before, one good blast with a scorching ray and they are toast." He looks over to Stjepan, "What do you think of ice golems?"

Vroole nods and he had been taking a fancy to what the gnomes were building for a moment, "There is a point to the ice... Though I do prefer the frosty version of a ray for the moment. A fire one would make little work of things made of ice... Stone." Vroole beating his armored chest, "Now that is the material that lasts... along with good metal."

Mikilos nods, and shrugs. "To be fair, a scorching ray does rather bad things to regular human troops as well. And I don't think the dran have too many firey rays. More than I care for, but they're more flails and mauls."

Stjepan has left.

Cesran nods, "It does. I wouldn't be too sure about that, the warlord will use whatever he can to try to defeat Rune. I only hope this harsh winter will help to turn the dran that have to be out there against him."

Vroole has left.

Mikilos sighs. "Keep hopeing Heth will get cocky and attack Dran. But sadly, I don't think Heth is so foolish, nor are the Dran likely to attack first."

Cesran hmms, "I doubt that Heth will I believe and have always believed that the Warlord and Heth are working together."

Mikilos fowns, pondering a few moment. "I... don't think they are true allies. They don't work together, so much as they understand both will go further if they do not fight. Less allies, and more an agreement to not be enemies. Though if they truely are working together, and we could somehow prove it, would spur a few currently inactive into action."