Ambrosia Software Web Board: The Alraeican Tavern - Part VIII - Ambrosia Software Web Board

Silverfish started forming a wheel of snow. He soon finished the wheel and stepped into the middle opening, and rolled the wheel rapidly toward the slums. He returned in a few minutes, his snow-wheel was twice as big, and had arrows sticking into its sides. He made the wheel drop near the door, and left a bag in the middle, while he made a snowpolyp on the other side of the door. When he was done with that he made himself comfortable on top of it.

"Feeling better now?" He queried, as he sat gazing at the falling snow.

*Ziiiiiiiing -- PMs? Oops... usually I get a popup for PMs. Sorry. ;_;*

"I wonder how long it will take for whatever it is to wear off," Moonshadow said, looking around the tavern. Indeed it was mostly quiet again, but there were still a few people who seemed deeply engaged in conversation with imaginary people.
Shi shrugged. "No clue! But say, was it already snowing when we came in?"
"Huh?" Moonshadow looked up at Shi, then out of the tavern door. Snow. "I'm.. really not sure." She slid off her chair. "But what is it the humans say... don't look a gift horse in the snout?"
Mouth.
"Right." Moonshadow smiled at the lich, then strode towards the door, evading a patron who had jumped off and seemed to be chasing after a hallucination. Just outside the doorway she stopped, breathing in deeply. "Ahhhhh, this is nice." She took another few steps forward, now noticing the snow wheel and scylla, and Silverfish. "Ah, hello there." She said, still smiling, and sat down crosslegged in the snow next to the small metahuman, apparently unaffected by the cold. "Thank you for your help back there. My name is Moonshadow." She held out her hand. "Who are you?"

Meanwhile Cat was gazing around the tavern, checking it out. She saw some of the patrons playing a game with small rectangular pieces of card, and wandered over to have a look. There was a large pile of small silvery coins in the middle of the table, and the pile kept on being added to. Suddenly one of the patrons threw his pieces of card down and accused the person opposite him of cheating. The man in dark green robes, the recipient of the accusation, narrowed his eyes and shot a small fireball at the accuser, who ducked. The fireball flew across the room and down the steps leading to the cellar. Seconds later there was a muffled 'BOOM', and bits of wood were fired from the stairwell. One hit the accuser on the back of the head, and knocked him out. The man in the robes started laughing, but another 'BOOM' followed, and the next bit of wood hit him on the nose.
Cat ran outside to the comparative safety of the snow, followed by another, louder explosion and some more wood. She caught a piece and noticed it was curved. Moonshadow took it from her, sniffed it and said, "Oh dear. Champagne barrel. And it was only three hours since the last fire, too."
"Shouldn't we do something?" asked Cat. "It's in the cellar. It could be dangerous."
Moonshadow sighed. "If you clear a pathway, we might be able to carry some of the snow in and douse the fire."
Cat beamed at her. "Hooray! I know how to clear a way!" She ran back inside and a series of muffled thumps were heard.
Moonshadow peered round the doorway and was surprised to see Cat in the act of kicking a drunken patron across the tavern.
Cat saw her, stopped and said, "Well, he attacked me. What else could I do?" She shrugged. "Anyway, I didn't use my claws, and I didn't kick him as hard as I could."
"How far would he go if you really kicked him?" asked Moonshadow, with morbid fascination.
Cat shrugged again. "Through the wall, maybe." she speculated. "Oh, there's a path now." That was because nearly everyone had seen what she did to the drunk, and were desperately trying to look like various items of furniture.
Moonshadow and Cat started carrying snow towards the stairs, but the fire was too strong to douse with snow. So, they returned outside.
"By the way," asked Moonshadow. "You mentioned your claws. I don't think I heard you properly."
"Oh, you heard me right. Watch." ordered Cat, and proceeded to stare at her fingers. After a few seconds, five long claws grew out of the tips of her fingers. They were silver, and about 5 cms long. "Do you have any scrap metal on you?"
"Only an oboloi. Would that do?"
"An oboloi? What's that?" asked Cat.
"A coin. Here." Moonshadow handed an oboloi to Cat.
Cat smiled, said "I'll pay you back.", then swiftly cut the coin in two.
Moonshadow whistled. "That's some weapon!"
"Yes, but I never carry weapons. They slow me down. I wonder how long this fire will last?"

This post has been edited by CrazyChick: 10 December 2006 - 10:08 PM

OOC ugh too much slobbing to do and not enough posting sorry for the rather late reply Selax. BIC

"An offer? How interesting..."
Satori Slowly strolled over the where Selax stood, who eyed her suspicously.
"Yes an offer"
"I must say I am a bit at loss, what on earth could you possibly want from me?
And you must also understand that I carry nothing but my scythe and my amulet,
and neither of these two objects I will give up for any price at all."

Talryn got up and grunted due to being interrupted from his entertainment. He ran into the tavern and begun to modify his spell. The snow that was falling started funneling through the door and down the stairs. Outside it also began to rain which followed the snow inside.

A few moments later, Talryn returned out side following a couple of barrels and carring the kicked drunk. He jumped downwards as the Tavern errupted into a gigantic ball of flame... Talryn sighed and opened up one of the barrels and brought his mug over for a refill. He then sat on the barrel and glanced over to the others.

This post has been edited by Dark Jet: 10 December 2006 - 10:30 PM

Cat ran over to him. "Is he ok?" she asked, pointing to the drunk. "I think I might have kicked him a little harder than was absolutely necessary."
"He's still breathing." replied Talryn.
"Good." said Cat. After a short pause she ventured; "Is everyone else ok? That was one big fireball!"
Talryn got off his barrel and looked through the still-smouldering door, through which the sound of coughing could be heard. Talryn got back on his barrel. "They're still breathing too."
"That's good as well." said Cat. She then sat down and started to stare off into space.

Dammit someone else beat me to a post owell...

This post has been edited by Pippin 3: 10 December 2006 - 10:45 PM

Brianna slowly pulled herself up from behind the counter, which was remarkably unscathed. Like much of the floorboards, fixtures and fittings of the tavern, it was made from wood from one of Leandra's magically-grown giant trees dating from the time of the Undead War, and was largely immune to the effects of normal fire. Brianna waved her hand through the smoke in front of her face, and coughed.

Mort was still firmly seated on his barstool, staring dolefully down at the scorched hem of his cloak.

Figures. Only days out of my grave, and already the only clothes I have are burned to a crisp, he exaggerated. He bunched up a handful of the heavy cloth and began to polish the soot from his skull.

Despite his mind-altered state, the Scribe's reflexes had served him well enough. He'd thrown up a magical shield before any concussive or thermal effects had reached him. His table, too appeared unscathed.

Sideline was nowhere to be seen. Not waiting to see if the Scribe had thought to protect him as well, he'd dived straight through the nearest window.

Talryn carried the barrels back in and quickly used the snow to put out the remaining flames. He then sat down at the bar and sipped his mug. After some coughing, he looked at the bewildered and said "i mixed the Champagne barrel for a barrel of beer, so this is a Champagne-Beer mug." Talryn continued to sip and cough for the next important duration of time

((Seven Taverns preceded this one, and I never bothered to join in. Time for a change of pace!))

A somewhat harried, middle-aged man walked along the back alleys of Cademia with a slow, drifting gait. After a long day of seemingly endless negotiations with a gang of unsavory ruffians, the man really needed to drown his troubles in good wine, but found that his usual stopovers were unable to satisfy. Dares and Diomede were off vacationing in Catamarca, and the Two-Tailed Rat was closed for renovations. Begrudgingly, the man headed towards the Alraeican Tavern--the one place in town he really didn't want to be.

As he navigated the twisted back-routes, another man came from the direction of the tavern, screaming something incomprehensible about 'flaming undead harpies'. Rather disturbed by the clearly mad patron, the man considered turning back, until the misery of his day's work returned to a conscious level. Driven onward by an unhealthy need for alcohol, he continued his march towards the tavern.

When he arrived at the door, he heard the same chaotic bar-noises that had deprived him of sleep night after night. His need for a drink was rapidly being overpowered by a base desire to run towards the other end of the island in a murderous rampage, and he found himself unable to open the door himself so great were his feeling's ambivalence.

Fortunately, he didn't have too.

Another clearly insane patron tore through the door way, screaming the same sort of undecipherable gibberish, and the man found himself, much to his surprise, face-down on the threshing floor of the tavern. Righting himself, and dusting himself off, the man surveyed the establishment.

Perhaps in an attempt to seek solace, the man moved toward the most depressed person in sight. Although he could clearly tell that the patron he approached was not among the living, nor the dead in particular, and had recently been subject to a blaze, the man simply couldn't find the willpower to *care* anymore. Blocking out his irritation about the tavern, all that mattered anymore was getting a drink.

Coming up to the bar-counter, the man ordered a bottle of Northshore Red 852, another of Southshore White 786, a tall stein, and a flask of ruffian whiskey. A short while later the bartender returned with the desired items, and the man fronted the cash rather than starting a tab he'd likely never return to pay off. After mixing his beverages, he took a small taste to check for anything harmful to his well-being, then proceeded to down the rest of the concoction.

Feeling somewhat relived, although no less miserable, he turned to the walking corpse sitting beside him. After a few moments of mustering his courage, he introduced himself to the obviously undead being.

"Hello good sir, my name is Shanadar. I take it you had a rough day too?

Cat walked in and asked "Is everyone alright?"
It turned out that no-one had died, but several people got a bit scorched from the blast.
Cat then walked over to the remains of the poker game, delicately kicked some unconscious players out of the way, sat down and said "So, how do you play this game, then? I think I have an oboloi."
The patrons at the poker game hadn't even noticed the explosion, as they had been too intent on their game. And they had forgotten Rule One of the Gamblers' Handbook: When someone who has never played poker before sits down at your table and asks "So, how do you play this game, then?", someone is going to get their rear booted. It is unlikely to be the newbie.
Sure enough, after about twenty minutes, Cat was the proud possesor of three thousand, seven hundred and eighty two oboloi and a spoon. (Who knows where the spoon came from?)
She was then promptly accused of cheating, and an all out brawl developed. It appeared to be about five to one, the other five players against Cat.
She daintily kicked one across the tavern, and the player landed on a mage's table and knocked his drink over. The mage spun around and let loose a fireball (he was the same one who set fire to the cellar). It missed Cat and hit another patron on the foot. Soon the brawl encompassed nearly everyone in the tavern, except for Moonshadow and a few others. Cat kicked, punched and bit her way over to talk to Moonshadow.
"Looks pretty good now, doesn't it? I figured it was getting a bit quiet." she shouted above the noise.
Moonshadow rolled her eyes. "And did you cheat?" she asked with a sigh.
Cat looked shocked. "Of course not! I wouldn't know how to cheat!"
Moonshadow grinned. "That's alright then. Just sit back and watch the show!"

*OoC* A belated 'welcome to the Tavern' to Buzzzzy - that was your first tavern post earlier, wasn't it? *BiC*

Oblivious to the near-riot occurring behind him, Mort turned to face the man named Shanadar.

Rough day? Rough day! Try rough century! I go out one night to try some spells, and the next thing I know I wake up dead, and it's three centuries later! Rough day! Hah!

Under cover of the brawl, one of the less charitable patrons sneaked up behind Mort carrying a heavy plank. With a grunt of effort he swung it at Mort's head. The plank shattered on his hard skull. Mort turned his fiery eyes on his assailant.

Yes? Did you want something?

The brawler backed away nervously.

Mort turned back to the bar, catching sight of his miraculously still-full beer glass.

I really need a drink, he said. He picked up the glass and tossed back its contents in one smooth action. The liquid bounced off the back of his cloak, trickled through his ribcage and down onto the floor. Mort stared down at the puddle that formed beneath his barstool.

Damn.

This post has been edited by cache22: 11 December 2006 - 03:34 PM

Cat, noticing the brawler attacking Mort, and feeling that attacking someone who wasn't attacking you was a little unfair, especially if said attackee couldn't even have a drink, sauntered over to him, tapped him on the shoulder, and, when he turned round, punched him so hard he flew across the room and down the cellar steps.
She wandered back to Moonshadow.
"Nice left hook!" said Moonshadow admiringly.
"Thanks. Did you see what happened to that boy in the blue and black hat? I haven't see him for a bit."

"But you know, you should be a bit more careful with humans." Moonshadow proceeded to say. "They tend to break their bones more easily, and I'm really not in the mood to fix anyone up right now." She stretched lazily, peering around the tavern. "Even though.. I don't think there's been a quiet day in here since.... well... ever."
Cat shrugged. "Well, he did try to attack someone innoc- well... not involved."
"Yes." Moonshadow nodded. "They tend to do that. And no, I haven't seen Alice.. though I'm sure he's around somewhere."

This post has been edited by Moonshadow: 11 December 2006 - 04:40 AM

Shanadar was momentarily taken aback by the undead patron's harsh response, even more-so by its non-verbal nature. Before he was able to recover from the momentary shock and formulate a rebuttal, he was interrupted by another patron striking the would-be corpse soundly on the head with a plank. From Shanadar's perspective, the walking-dead fellow turned around and seemed to wordlessly incite fear in the guilty party simply by staring at the man. Of course, considering the living carcass' earlier use of telepathy, Shanadar could only assume that he had used the same to give the unruly patron a few words of *ahem* encouragement.

The zombie turned back to his drink, only to have it end up on the floor when he attempted to consume it. Seeing his opportunity, Shanadar made his attempt to resume his conversation.

"It seems to me like you've had some rather sour luck, friend. Care to elaborate? I think it would do us both some good to vent."

"Ok." said Cat. "But I always make sure I hit or kick them where it won't do much damage. The aim is to incapacitate, not kill, your opponent."
Moonshadow grinned. "That is a good way of thinking. It makes my job so much easier!"

Talryn finished his mixed drink and left the tavern briefly only to return with some wooden planks. He walked down the stairs and begun constructing a door and embued it with magic resitance spells as he went.

"I'm Silverfish," He replied to Moonshadow when they once more had time to sit peacefully. "I hope I was more help than trouble."

Uzsuy quickly drank something to quench his thirst, not paying attention to what he was drinking and left, only to run into some big half-human looking like creature who wouldn't move and kept moving with him, blocking him. And so Uzsuy adjusted his size so he wouldn't be harmed or noticed (hopefully) and walked back in the Tavern where to his surprise the thing did not follow him. Only he was noticed by someone and was picked up by him/her. Uzsuy tried to make himself bigger again, but couldn't concentrate. "I must be thought of as a mouse or something," he thought to himself.

This post has been edited by Buzzzzy: 12 December 2006 - 04:37 PM

Cat picked up the small blue thing scurrying along the floor and held it up to her face.
"And just who are you?" she asked.
"Uzsuy! Now put me down!" he shouted.
Cat jumped, and complied, setting him down carefully on the table.
She starteed talking to Silverfish and Moonshadow.
"You weren't a hindrance! We needed your help!" she said, addressing Silverfish.

*OoC* Thought I'd try something a little different to better indicate telepathy. *BiC*

Mort blinked at Shanadar.

{{ Vent? }} he queried, patting down his robe. {{ Am I still burning? Oh, vent. Well, I guess there's not much more to it than I already said, really. Life, death, undeath. That's me in a nutshell. So what do you have to vent about, then, eh? }}

Uzsuy got back to full size and simply stood staring at the thing behind the door.

"Oh, not much I suppose. For the past twenty years I've been negotiating terms with various gangs of ruffians as to keep them in line." Shanadar replied, "I've gotten pretty good at it, but oft diplomacy degrades into violence and I have to make my point painfully clear."

Another unruly patron approached with the intent to maim, Shanadar's turned away momentarily and gave the fellow a nasty concussion with his staff.

"Of course, no matter how many times I beat them within an inch of their lives, they never really seem to take the lesson to heart." he mused as he turned back to the Lich/Zombie/Undead-what-have-you person.

Shanadar continued, "This tavern hasn't helped my mood either, seeing as I've had nary a restful night since it was put in. I'm only here because it's currently the only place in town I can get a drink."

"Of course, you clearly have things far worse off than I do, and that says quite a bit." he said as he wrapped up his spiel, "If there is anything within my power that would cheer you up a bit, I would be happy to oblige."

He smiled wryly, then returned to his drink.

Cat noticed Uzsuy staring at something behind the door, got up, and went over to have a look. She pulled the door back and then...

Talryn let out a big blech, and a quite loud one too as he finished the door. He turned around, "Sorry... Well at least we won't have the Tavern exploding because of stray fireballs anymore..." Talryn sat down at the bar next to Mort and Shanadar.

Side Note

-Dark

This post has been edited by Dark Jet: 14 December 2006 - 02:27 AM