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#Post#: 1199--------------------------------------------------
Reputations at Stake: The Red Maw Inn.
By: guest15 Date: October 11, 2015, 5:28 pm
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Entering first, Astandord pushes the door as it creaks inward.
The Inn is of usual common sight, wooden structure, fireplace,
stools and tables, a bar and a stairway leading to rooms
upstairs. Walking across to the fireplace, he takes from his
belt a small iron rod, no more than two inches long and places
it on the mantlepiece, before continuing back to the doorway to
ensure everyone gets in, calling back out to anyone.
"Come on ya slow shits, we ain' got all day."
#Post#: 1202--------------------------------------------------
Re: Reputations at Stake: The Red Maw Inn.
By: guest34 Date: October 11, 2015, 8:58 pm
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Eno felt feminine for once, ok not quite the pearly princess
dribbling in jewels feminine, more the, heavy mead stained
skirts and breathing restricting corset that pushed your breasts
into your throat feminine. But yeh, it was an improvement. By
now the stale sweaty air of the tavern had grown on her like a
perfume and she wore it, boy did she wear it, dancing between
tables and patrons, clearing the odd..ok common, spillage and
chewing the insides of her cheeks each time that wandering hand
found her rump. But hey that was all part and parcel of a tavern
wench's job critia 'enjoy being unnecessarily groped with a
smile' check. She slipped so comfortably into the job that she
didn't notice the armour clad arrival, nor his short trip across
the tavern. That was until he stopped at the mantle. Eno looked
up briefly then continued clearing vomit.-" This better be one
motherf***ing feathery, heaven made bed"- Heck, for free bed and
board there were worse jobs. The matted dark hair was roughly
pushed behind her ear and taking a deep breath she bent down
under the table and sloshed her bucket over the discriminating
puddle. Oh there we go, another wandering hand, what was that he
slurred? Never f***ed an elf before. well matey i am no elf, so
get your beer goggles straight before you try that chat up line.
Ok so eno wasn't all elf, there was this tiny weeny barely there
part that had been pointed out...get it..pointy ears..but so far
she had done her best to look and act as human as possible. It
wasn't common for an elf to serve in a tavern after all. no need
to draw attention.
#Post#: 1203--------------------------------------------------
Re: Reputations at Stake: The Red Maw Inn.
By: guest15 Date: October 11, 2015, 9:05 pm
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Ast regarded the Tavern wench for a moment with an untirely
uncaring gaze from within the visored helmet. He was used to
this kind of scene on his travels, it wasn't long before he got
bored of looking and decided to check over the rest of the
patrons. Merchants passing through, cut throats, drunkards, the
usual.
It was such a common sight, he had barely even noticed that it
was an elf that was the wench - even if he did, it would be
unlikely it would spark any form of interest that would catch
his attention. As such, he left the small iron rod and stepped
outside for a moment, still in the mindset of guarding.
#Post#: 1204--------------------------------------------------
Re: Reputations at Stake: The Red Maw Inn.
By: guest34 Date: October 11, 2015, 9:22 pm
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The armoured male was staring, that much she was aware of from
her smelling cavernous hiding place under the table, his feet
remained in her direction, then slowly, meaningfully turned and
walked back in the direction of the doorway. Eno pulled herself
up from beneath the table, straightened herself and flashed the
occupants of the table a hearty thinly disguised grin of
distaste.-"all clear, ye can walk without fear of soiling yer
feet now."- Not that they cared, correction, were sober enough
to care. Cradling the bucket under one arm and with an almost
obnoxious swing to her hips Eno made her way towards the mantle,
glanced at it then bent down to throw a fresh log on the
cackling flames. Placing her hand on the mantle she pulled
herself straight once more and returned to her work. Only a keen
eye would notice a second occupant on the mantle, a gnarled
twisted stick with something like copper wound into it, no
longer than a few inches and no thicker than a finger. To a
passer by it would look like nothing more than the broken end of
something more, the end of a fishing pole perhaps. Eno set her
bucket back down behind the bar and collected a fresh tray of
tankards nodding mechanically as one of the other girls
complained about the vomit table, as they were now to be know
as.
#Post#: 1206--------------------------------------------------
Re: Reputations at Stake: The Red Maw Inn.
By: guest32 Date: October 12, 2015, 3:29 pm
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~A small pouch of coins were placed on the table in front of the
dark clad man his blue hues lingered on the pouch for a moment
before they flicked back up to the two men that stood in front
of him~ “There’s your payment, the debt is paid” ~Bastille
kicked his legs from the table settling them on the floor again
his right hand reached forward only his fingers visible from the
fingerless gloves. His hands carefully untied the top of the
pouch before eyes moved from the men to the coins then back
again~ “Mhmm” ~The men expected more but they wouldn’t get much.
Instead blue eyes looked up to them before he nodded his head
for them to leave. His attention was elsewhere. From the dark
corner of the Tavern he watched as sticks were placed and people
came and left. His tankard was half full of the dark liquid and
despite being there for a long time now he had only drunk a
tankard and a half. He needed to keep his senses about him. A
barmaid stepped over to check his cup flashing him a smile. He
would have smiled back but his dark scarf was pulled over his
lower face would have made it pointless to smile. The strong
smell of vomit was something that wasn’t new to him, usually
when people died they emptied their bowels and the smell of
vomit blood and shit was never too far away. He sat forward in
his shadows watching as the heavily armoured man placed a stick
where his eyes had been stuck for the last few hours. Bastille’s
bow sat against the table a quiver of arrows propped up next to
it. It was begging to be used but he knew now wasn’t the time.
With icy blue hues he watched the man leave his lips under the
scarf smiling. Bastille wasn’t a heavily armoured man but he was
tall and fast and this mix had kept him alive for a long time.
He knew there were people sympathetic to his cause but had never
had the chance to put a face to a stick. Along with the bow a
long elven styled sword sat beside him along with a small knife
on his belt. A knife was always handy to have. It was one of his
rules, he liked rules, he was funny that way~
#Post#: 1207--------------------------------------------------
Re: Reputations at Stake: The Red Maw Inn.
By: guest8 Date: October 12, 2015, 4:01 pm
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*transit is still silent but is maticulasly inspecting the inn
He gives a small nod to the groups new members*
(( OCC sorry I have been of line for so long. I spend a lot more
time at my dads now so that means I only have very other week
with internet access :\ ))
#Post#: 1208--------------------------------------------------
Re: Reputations at Stake: The Red Maw Inn.
By: guest11 Date: October 12, 2015, 5:07 pm
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*he slips through the doors quietly and finds a dark corner to
settle into. Shifting his gear to sit comfortably, but ensuring
none of his weapons are restricted he settles into a chair and
signals to the serving girl. His eyes dart about the tavern
searching for possible threats. When the serving girl approaches
he asks softly*
Do you by chance have any spring wine behind the bar?
#Post#: 1211--------------------------------------------------
Re: Reputations at Stake: The Red Maw Inn.
By: guest15 Date: October 12, 2015, 6:18 pm
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Walking back in, Ast restands next to the fireplace, observing
the addition of another item. He retakes his iron rod, placing
it back in his bandolier, before finding himself a quiet corner
of the Inn to sit himself, alone. He observes around, noticing
the wench and Bastille, a flair of interest takes him, before he
displaces it back to discomposition of idleness while he sits.
#Post#: 1212--------------------------------------------------
Re: Reputations at Stake: The Red Maw Inn.
By: guest34 Date: October 12, 2015, 6:23 pm
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Eno glided across the room, the tray artistically balanced on
one hand and lifted so that it floated effortlessly above the
heads and bodies surrounding her, bobbing and swinging to avoid
any collisions. Eno twirled and spun around a rowdy group who
were challenging each other to arm wrestles on one table, moving
around them in her solitary dance with her tray, the frothy
tankards dribbling. A signal caught her eye and with
determination Eno changed direction and approached the new
comer, another traveller no doubt, and a little fond of his
shadows. Someone should really tell these men that tall dark and
broodingly mysterious is so last century. On the brightside,
these silent types tended to be less...touchy. Eno lowered her
tray and flashed the man a welcoming grin, eyeing his collection
of weaponry with her peripheral vision.
"spring wine behind the bar? Spring like, the season or spring
like jumpy?"
Ok so maybe this wenching business did require a little research
after all.
"Why dont ye get yersel' comfy dear and i'll go have a look see
for ye. Will that be all?"
Again a flutter of lashes and a grin and Eno was on her way back
to the bar on her quest for this elusive 'Spring Wine'.
#Post#: 1213--------------------------------------------------
Re: Reputations at Stake: The Red Maw Inn.
By: guest32 Date: October 12, 2015, 6:39 pm
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~His blue hues watched as the man once again came to claim the
bar and once again under his scarf Bastille smiled. It was
coming together quickly, too quickly maybe? Either way it was
time for him to make his move and with that he pushed himself up
off the chair in the shadows that draped over him like a cloak.
His hood was up pulled down low over his eyes. As he approached
the fireplace where the heavily armoured man had just been he
stopped for a moment. His eyes were fixed in one place as he
slowly removed his knife from the leather sheath that it called
home. Slowly his head turned to the left then right as he
removed an arrow from his quiver. As the sounds of the tavern
lifted with the crescendo of the arm wrestling match Bastille
snapped the tip off his arrow leaving the long black feathers.
Slowly he placed it on the fireplace. He dropped the arrow head
in the fire before cutting his thumb a little with the knife. As
he stepped back he turned to look into the dark corner that the
heavily armoured man walk too. He lifted the hand he just cut
extending his middle and index finger out so his fingers covered
his right eye but touched his forehead. As he looked to the man
in the eye he pulled his hand away in a semi salute before
turning to walk back to his table sucking on his thumb he cut.
The blood tasted like metal in his mouth but it wasn’t an
unpleasant taste. As he made it back to the table he plucked his
bow and sword from the table sliding them into their rightful
places. He plucked the tankard from the table watching the
fireplace to make sure his arrow shaft wasn’t stolen. If it was
touched he may just have to break someone hand. He downed the
last of the drink placing the tankard on the table before
removing a coin from his pocket. Slowly he held his hand over
the tankard letting the coin drop into the bottom of the cup
with a soft clunk. His eyes were still watching the man from
under his hood his mouth and nose covered by a black scarf. Once
all this was done he quickly moved from his table his steps more
like a dance than walking as he made his way efficiently though
the crowd. Finally he found himself at the bar next to a group
of males who were shouting about their various conquests and
other topics that were equally boring. All Bastille could do now
was wait. His right hand slowly moved to sit on his knife. From
behind it would be impossible to tell where his hand was~
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