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

Rapierian stared at Kamille for a moment, wondering how he'd managed to get inside without getting dyed blue or something like that; he supposed that he'd have to double-check the traps. He glanced out one of the windows, making sure the others were still off at the funeral. He intended to slip out of the building before they returned.

A tall figure quietly entered the Tavern and slipped over to the bar, nicking a clean glass and taking it to a small table in an empty corner. She sat down and held the glass out in front of herself, waving a hand over it, and it suddenly filled with water. Bundling her cloak tightly around her, she sat sipping her water in silence, ignoring the other patrons.

Rapierian, however, was surreptitiously looking around the Tavern, and his eyes landed upon the newcomer. "Ah!" he exclaimed with mischevious pleasure. The woman's colouring was quite definitely blue, from the hair and skin to the midnight-blue cloak wrapped around her. Naturally, he assumed the dye had worked after all.

Katerei, feeling someone's gaze upon her, looked up. She stared back at him suspiciously through narrowed eyes. "Draw a picture, why don't you, it'll last longer." No response. "What?" she said impatiently.

"Ah... well, um... you're blue," Rapierian said, trying hard to hide his obvious enjoyment at her state.

"What's it to you?" she asked, and flicked her hand again in annoyance. Rapierian suddenly found himself drenched to the skin, and Katerei turned away, pulling up the hood on her cloak and going back to drinking her water. "Everyone wants to be a comedian," she muttered to herself. "It's impolite to make fun of people's moods..."

((OOC: Here goes.))

A few white clouds drifted slowly across the blue afternoon sky, the great wind that pushed them along on high was little more than a breeze down by the road, sending light ripples through the green grass and stirring the crimson cape of a lone traveler. The only sound aside from the whisper of the wind was that of the man’s boots touching down upon the dirt as he strode towards the town of Cademia. The rays of the midday sun reflected brightly off of the mirrored surface of the man’s full suit of well crafted armor and gleamed off of the silver hilt of his sword as it protruded from beneath his cape visible behind his left pauldron.

With eyes of blue like the purest sapphires his gaze combed over the city ahead and a smile appeared on his handsome face as the breeze played over his sun darkened skin and through his shoulder length crimson curls. In his right hand he held what appeared to be the helm that went with the armor he wore, with a pair of intricately designed blue wings, each nearly as long as one of his gauntleted hands, decorating the sides of the helm itself.

Aron continued down the road to enter the city itself, not really caring about where it was that he was going, because the journey is what matters. It wasn’t long before something told him to stop, which he promptly did at the side of a busy city street. Town’s people hurried by about their business, giving Aron a wide breadth out of respect, several murmuring things like “My lord” softly as they passed, eyes cast down averting his own. The traveler arched an eyebrow, before realizing how fine what he wore must seem. He shrugged with soft sigh before stepping over to his left and leaning back against the side of one of the buildings, out of the way of the busy people.

Crossing his arms, Aron glanced over to his right, catching sight of a sign the hung mere feet away. It read: “The Alraeican Tavern” in a pleasant silvered cursive script, and there was a wooden door just beyond, set into the very wall he leaned on. Pushing off the wall and straightening he took the few steps necessary to reach the doorway and gently pushed it open. As the noise from the street poured into the tavern several patrons glanced Aron’s way, among them a man with a dark countenance, light hair, and narrow features whose close were completely soaked through, though Aron did not hold his attention long. A beautiful woman, Elvin if he had to guess and azure as the sky above, sat alone at a table away from the others, but she spared him not a glance that he could see.

The sound of a throat being cleared caused Aron to blink; snapping his focus into the “now” and making him realize he still stood in the open door way, allowing the outer chaos to disturb the relative peace of the Tavern itself. Aron stepped into the room, onto the wooden floor from the stones that lined the street outside, and closed the door behind him, venturing over to the bar itself.

Mort ceased staring at his seventh beer to observe the newcomer's approach. He critically eyed the man's highly polished armour, taking a firm grip on his scythe in case he had to make a run for it.

{{ You're not a paladin, are you? It's just, I think I might have a bit of a problem if one of those showed up - they're supposed to be sort of, you know, incompatible with people like me. }}

This post has been edited by cache22: 29 January 2007 - 12:42 AM

As the Lich addressed him Aron waved to the bartender, the ghostly figure of a frog no larger than his palm, who started to make his way over. Aron turned to the figure, a skeletal being who gripped the wooden handle of scythe as he sat next to an untouched drink, and smiled good naturedly, “Is that how this kind of thing works here, men in shiny armor hunting you down?” He glanced to the wooden counter and saw a glass of orange juice waiting for him next to a silent frog that seemed ready to be paid. He hadn’t ordered any drink, though this was indeed what he wanted, so he placed a silver coin on the counter with an audible click and lifted his glass, inclining his head to the Lich with a smile, “If I hunt for anything today it won’t be blood, and should I hunt for blood it won’t be yours.” He frowned after that, studying the undead creature, “Though I suppose you’ve no blood to hunt for…” he sipped at his orange juice, peering over the glass, past the Lich to a lonely corner of the tavern. As he looked back he finished his glass and set it lightly back upon the table. “Paladin I’m not, nor Lord or Knight or any other. I am Aron, I am no one, and this day may be a dream for you, as far as I know. But if it is then let’s enjoy it.”

With a smile and another nod to the Lich he stepped away from the bar and walked across the tavern floor. At one end of the room he noticed a young man with light features, blonde hair, and a unique blue black hat, being followed by a floating cloak. Aron looked over his shoulder, noting the crimson robe that hung from his back and flowed lightly behind him, and shared a knowing glance with the young man, “Mine follows me everywhere as well.”

He continued his short walk, stopping in a corner, near a table with a lone patron. The Elvin woman, with azure hair and sky blue skin, draped in a fine blue cloak and a gown that flowed over her lithe form in two layers, the first was dark and sheer, while the second was a near sparkling shade of pink with a pattern of leaves intricately woven into the fabric, the burgundy shade and final look of the dress was at once stunning and mysterious on the woman. Aron stood there for a few moments, though she never glanced up from the glass of water before her as though he wasn’t there at all. He sighed, but with a smile reached into the silken blue pouch at his hip, moments later producing a bright red apple. This he placed lightly upon the table before walking over to lean against the wall opposite the woman. Reaching into the pouch once more he produced another of the crimson fruits, holding it up to study its surface arbitrarily, and spoke casually, as though to no one in particular, “I’ve left a home that has no name, and been lost upon a sea of stars. I’ve found a rose to summon rain, we’ve held to selves that aren’t ours.”

This post has been edited by Ragnar0k: 25 January 2007 - 06:05 AM

Katerei stared at the man from underneath the edge of her hood. He continued to inspect the apple, and she continued to stare at him. Finally, after a long pause, she said, "I'm going to summon rain on your head if you don't leave me alone."

"Inside the building?" he asked mildly.

"Go look at nutcase over there if you don't believe me," Katerei said irritably, indicating Rapierian. "Don't think I'll hesitate to do it again."

"Ah, but my lady, what would that solve?" Aron said, tossing the apple into the air, catching it, and sliding into the seat across from her, all in one smooth motion. "It's such a beautiful day outdoors, why make it unpleasant indoors?"

Katerei gestured with her hand and soaked the annoying man, much as she had done to Rapierian. "One, your sense of humour is a little dry." Another motion of the hand, and the water froze over, completely encasing him in ice. "Two, I prefer the cold-hearted." Katerei withdrew a dagger from somewhere and leaned over the table to carve a small hole in the ice on top of his head. She plucked the apple from his hand and placed it in the niche, where it rested without rolling away. "Three, you're a fruit, and now the world will know." She settled back into her chair and picked up her glass of water, admiring her handiwork. "Four, it makes me feel better."

Aron sat encased in his icy prison for another moment before the shell flashed white with myriad cracks and with the sound of shattering crystal evaporated into a powdery mist. He arched an eyebrow as he gazed across the table, the chill air around him stirring and swirling slowly as it collected into the silver hilt of his sword. He reach up with his gauntleted left hand and claimed the apple from upon his head, bringing it to eye level so that he could study it once more, and smiled, “I enjoy them cold, you’re very thoughtful…um…”

“And my thoughts are filled with hatred…” the woman mutters darkly.

Not hearing the comment, or simply not acknowledging it, he took a bite of the ripe fruit, enjoying the crisp refreshing taste, as he looked quizzically to the woman, “I never caught your name, or gave you mine it seems… How rude when you were so nice to me…” he trailed off as he continued to merrily enjoy his food. As he finished, more quickly than one would have thought, he tossed the core neatly into the trash. He continued speaking, though it seemed the words were for himself, “I’ll have to call you something,” he tilted his head to one side as he looked at her, “With an icy demeanor and I fiery temper I could call you Steam…” he arched an eyebrow, “Granted it’s not a pretty name…” again he trailed off, this time apparently in thought.

For her part the Elvin woman stared at him blankly in a way that that might have frozen another man all over again. However the icy glare seemed to slide right over him. With a small sigh the Elvin woman spoke in a flat monotone, “Katerei.”

This post has been edited by Ragnar0k: 25 January 2007 - 07:00 AM

The funeral/memorial service ended at last, two hours of silence had been substituted for Shi'nayne commenting on Dheiva's life, but now they returned to the Tavern.

At least, most of them returned to the Tavern. Jehezekel had other business to attend to first; he made his way to the fortress, and spent a couple of hours in consultation with Berossus.


[edit] OoC: There! The funeral's over, If anyone who has something to contribute objects, I'll change it [/edit]

This post has been edited by Jehezekel: 25 January 2007 - 08:06 AM

[OoC]
I'd intended to give Moonshadow one more day to respond to my e-mail, but you're right, it's gone on long enough.
[BiC]

Sideline re-entered the tavern, followed closely by the Scribe and Brianna. He almost absent-mindedly avoided the tripwire Rapierian had set, pointing it out to those following with the simple comment: "Careful."

Brianna headed out the back to change while Sideline and the Scribe made their way to their customary table, only to find it already occupied.

"Katerei," Sideline nodded, as he slipped into his usual deeply shadowed seat in the corner. The Scribe merely acknowledged her with a nod. They barely noticed the newcomer, their throughts still deeply disturbed by the recent events in the tavern and the sombre ceremony at the graveyard.

"That certainly didn't go as I expected," Sideline thought, "Shi'nayne's always so bright and cheerful, who'd have guessed she'd fall apart like that?" He absently rubbed his collar, soaked through where the tiny phaerie had buried her face in it and sobbed her little heart out, when he'd asked her to say something about Dheiva.

The existence of the fourth person at the table gradually penetrated his awareness. He stared at the man, slightly confused.

"Uh, who are you, and what are you doing at our table?"

The sounds of the busy street carried into the tavern with a fresh breeze that spoke of a strengthening chill as the day progressed. Aron looked away from his silent study of Katerei’s glare to see a large group of patrons enter the tavern. Two stood out to him against the crowd, if only by the virtue of coming directly his way. A pair with blue eyes, one a man with dark brown hair who moved with the nimble grace of a thief and the other an ancient elf with close cropped gray hair, showing only slight hints of the gold color it must have been in his youth. The sound of the aging elf’s fine black cane tapping onto the tavern’s wooden floor as he continued his walk carried slightly beneath the other sounds that drifted through the tavern. Behind his gold rimmed glasses Aron could see a sadness weighing heavily; indeed both men shared the look.

The two quietly took seats at the table, the human greeting Katerei softly before musing about the tragedy which was their day, while the elf sat in somber silence. After several moments the man turned to face Aron directly, giving him a quizzical look as he spoke, “Uh, who are you, and what are you doing at our table?”

Aron arched an eyebrow, glancing at the wooden table but failing to find a name etched into its surface, and then returned the man’s questioning look with a small smile, inclining his head respectfully, “I think I’m sitting in my chair. Though I could be wrong,” he looked over his shoulder to the Lich at the bar, “He might be dreaming; so I think it could be his chair.” He shrugged as he returned his attention to the human, “He doesn’t seem to mind so much, nice fellow.” He placed his helm lightly on the table before him, careful not to mark the wooden surface, and then extended his right hand to the human in greeting, “I am called Aron,” he glanced over at Katerei with a grin, “I believe you’ve met Steam,” his sapphire eyes returned to the man, “So then, what is your name?”

*OoC*
Welcome to the Cythera Web Board, Ragnar0k.
*BiC*


Selax sat down in his corner with Wizard. Forewarned, they had easily been able to avoid the traps. Selax was tempted to remove Rapierian, but, since no one else seemed to consider the matter of any importance and indeed it had no immediate importance, he continued talking to Wizard.


Quite irritated, Rapierian sat in his corner. First, none of his traps had worked. Second, that blue woman had drenched him; he'd been tempted to try incinerating her but decided against it. (He wasn't certain he could, and it seemed like it might make him a few enemies.) He got up and began to check his traps. After a few minutes, he found the problem: the wires hadn't been properly connected. Triumphantly, he fixed it and returned to his corner.

Then, he stopped, realizing something. On accident, he hadn't used the vials that haled dye: he'd used the vials containing acid.

"Excuse me, everyone," he said in a loud voice, "I need you all to hold still for a few minutes. Quite on accident, I placed vials containing a powerful acid all around the building. I need to recover them, so I don't waste the material inside them."

Predictably, someone moved and vials rained down, fortunately not injuring anyone. Unfortunately, the acid soaked the Tavern's supports and ate through them in minutes.

The Alraeican Tavern collapsed...

Silverfish was sitting on a rafter when Rapierian made his announcement, and leaned down to hear better...

When the dust settled, Silverfish was still sitting on the rafter, but rather dazed.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

After his conference with Berossus, Jehezekel headed south out of town, toward Kosha.

After the mourners had left the graveyard, Shanadar came to pay his respects in kind.

Quietly, solemnly, he walked to the freshly dug graves. When he reached their boundaries, he stopped, and stood for a long while in front of the new gravestones. Eventually, he broke the dead's silence with a voice of his own.

"It seems to me that coming here is to commit to a terrible cliché" he said, almost to no one at all, "I know you're spirits are long since departed, and that my words are not likely to reach you, but truthfully I come to alleviate my own guilt than to mourn."

He paused for a moment, his words carried faintly in soft echo on the passing winds.

"I knew neither of you well, but your passing pierces my soul all the same. As citizens in this city it was my responsibility to protect you." He turned to face the far marker, "And you, Toreon, as your comrade I should have been there for you. How ironic that in my attempt to lure the Undine away from you and the others left me unable to defend you. Indeed, in my attempts to uphold my duties I have unwittingly failed you all."

Again, he paused, lowering to his knees as his gut twisted his feelings ambivalence.

"I have failed to defend that which I ought, and my inability to pay the price, the inability to set things right, is like a fetter that imprisons my soul." His gaze returned to the gravestones, his face infinitely solemn, almost pleading, "I cannot leave my duties, and yet to follow them is to make sure their failure. I am lost, and I do not know what to do."

Confusion was as drawn on his face like a portrait.

"Am I to seek vengeance, and leave others at risk? Or am I to seek duty and leave still others at risk? Am I to be the servant of two masters?" His face began to show signs of another emotion, anger, "Fate has been a cruel mistress, and irony her willing accomplice. Who am I to live while others perish?"

His slowly regained his composure and rose to his feet.

"Perhaps there is yet another role to be played here, another chapter to be written" He face was now stern, resolved, "Let come what may, my duty is here. I cannot leave on grounds of vendetta. But perhaps I shall steal a chance to cheat the fates. Only time will tell."

As he turned to leave, the heavens opened up and a rain began to grace the earth.

"Huh" he mused, managing a weak smile, "How cliché"

And with that, he returned to the tavern.

[OoC]
This isn't the start of the TS, just tying up some loose ends first. The setup could be quite lengthy, so it might be an hour or so before I can post it.
[BiC]

Brianna appeared in the doorway at the back of the tavern, having changed out of her adventuring garb and back into a dress. She stopped dead at the sight of the chaos in front of her - beams, planks and broken furniture were everywhere, and the roof was (once again) open to the sky. She instinctively scowled at Rapierien, who was attempting to pull himself out of the wreckage, then turned on her heel and marched back to her room to change again. Muttered curses floated back along the corridor.

Of Mort, there was no sign. Or rather, there was a sign, which said:

I'll be back!
          - Mortzennegger.

This post has been edited by cache22: 26 January 2007 - 12:49 AM

Honeyed rays of afternoon sunlight poured down upon Cademia, flowing over the streets and buildings to cast long shadows as the day just began to fade. The breeze picked up slightly, carrying the salted scent of the sea as the wind blew in from the shore beyond the house of the mage Byraxis. As the wind wound down one the many shadowed alleys in the city there was a sound of fluttering cloth as it passed over the dark figure of a man where he stood leaning against a wall. Hooded, with a dark cloth masking the lower half of his face, and garbed dark robes, torn as though he had stolen them from death itself, that flowed over his muscular frame; he radiated an eerie calm as he stood with his eyes closed. None of his skin was visible aside from his eyes, for even though his night black robes were shredded there seemed to be a second layer of cloth just as dark beneath.

His arms were crossed, revealing onyx gauntlets, each with a pair of wicked black serrated blades laid flat across the backs of his hands, their serrated edges faced away from each other and their points extending a hand’s length past the knuckles of his closed fists. Another serrated blade ran from the backs of his wrists through the entire length of his gauntlets while a thumb sized spike which curved back protruded from a special guard upon each elbow. On his legs his shins were protected by guards of the same metal, each holding a razor thin serrated blade that faced outward and ran the entire length of the guard. A spike that curved upwards, slightly larger than those upon his elbows, topped a separate guard on each of his knees.

The sounded of splintering wood carried a short distance to Rythan’s ears, and he opened his eyes slowly as he realized where the sound had come from; his left was a ruby crimson, while his right was a deep sapphire. He pushed off of the wall turned down the alley and entered the deeper shadows, flowing into the darkness like an onyx ghost…

**

Frayed and jagged wooden columns of wood gave way to a wonderful view of a near cloudless blue sky above, and a pleasant breeze now circulated through the entire tavern. Aron, his helm resting comfortably in his lap, wore a small smile from where he sat in his chair, appreciating his favorable view, “I hadn’t noticed the sun roof when I first arrived, but now that I do it’s really quite nice.” Several moans of pain of discomfort could be heard from various corners of the tavern, though the two who sat with Aron seemed completely unharmed. The table was less fortunate; half a support beam had fallen onto it and smashed it into kindling. Aron frowned as he questioningly looked back better the two who sat with him, "Weren't there three of you?" muffled yelling drew the attention of his blue eyes down to the shattered table where he noticed the third patron struggling beneath the debris. While the plight of the man was indeed compelling the broken table itself was a said sight to behold, and Aron held a moment of silence for all the pieces of furniture whose lives were lost that day, “Robbed from us in the prime of their lives,” he said somberly as he shook his head, “It’s so unfair.”

Something caught his eye in the middle of his eulogy, a shadow standing by the ruins directly behind Katerei. Mistaking Aron’s study she glared at him icily, or perhaps she had taken to glaring at him on principle at this point, he wasn’t exactly sure. A strengthening of the breeze caused the shadow to shift some what, with onyx tendrils that could be heard flapping softly. Aron arched an eyebrow questioningly, “Rythan? How did you get in here?”

The dark figure glanced from the man in mirrored armor to the gaping hole above before returning his gaze and replying simply, “The door was open.”

This post has been edited by Ragnar0k: 26 January 2007 - 01:51 AM

At the first creak of straining timber, Sideline reflexively dived under the table. Ordinarily, that would have been a good move. Unfortunately for him, the weight of the falling building was too much, first for the table, then for the floorboards. In quick succession, they groaned and snapped. Sideline was left pinned with his head dangling beneath the floor, and his legs sticking up in the air through the mass of debris.

"Ow," he said.

"Hey," he continued in a muffled voice, "there's something down here! Somebody dig me out, so we can get a proper look!"

It wasn't as simple as that, of course - many people were trapped, and it was some time before enough of them were freed to make it worthwhile attempting to extricate Sideline from his predicament.

Once he was out and his scrapes and bruises had been seen to, the Scribe poked his head between the broken floorboards.

"Can you see anything?" Sideline called.

"Not yet. Just a moment..." The venerable elf wriggled the arm in which he held his staff down through the hole as well. "Calan!" he called, and a bright light shone up through the gaps in the floor. "Ah, I see it now! There's a larger circular hole down here. Arrows have been shot into the walls, as if to form a path!" He pulled himself back out of the hole, and seated himself in one of the few remaining intact chairs. "Duath!" he said, banging the bottom of his staff on the ground. The light went out.

"Well, what do you think, grandfather?" Brianna asked, having returned, once more clothed in her tunic and breaches.

"Most intriguing," the Scribe commented. "Definitely worth looking into, I think - I might even come along, this time."

Sideline organised a few able bodied men to rip up the floorboards over the hole.

"Better let me go first," Brianna teasingly observed to Sideline. "You know what your eyes are like in the dark." With that, the half-elven ranger lowered herself into the dark.

[OoC]
Story continues here.
[BiC]

This post has been edited by cache22: 26 January 2007 - 04:58 PM

Selax and Wizard got up and walked over next to the hole. Selax turned to Wizard. I do not think that I shall go on this quest; at least, not at once. I may follow later, but disturbing news has reached me here. I might be needed elsewhere, he thought at Wizard. Wizard nodded, and Selax jumped, flying up into the sky through the hole in the roof.


Rapierian also came over and stood looking down into the hole, with an intrigued expression on his face.

kamille light up a smoke and looked around lazily before gracefully standing up on his feet. he walked over to the bar and asked for a refil on his choc. milk, and said "i'll be right back" as he continued on without turning his head straight through the door and to the street.
he promptly pissed all over the side of the building opposite the tavern.

Cat, Starfall and Kerran wandered over to examine the hole. At least, they would have wandered, if they hadn't had to climb over, under and around the wreckage.
After a while, Kerran asked, "Should we join them, perhaps? Mayhap they might require our skills."
The elves glanced at each other, and shrugged. "Sure." replied Starfall. "What else do we have to do?"

In Kosha, Jehezekel discussed his plan with Judge Itanos, and Itanos agreed to help, but suggested that he establish a permanent Judgeship, on his farm. Jehezekel thanked him, and spent the night in Kosha before leaving to scout out the land in the morning.

OoC: I'm working under the theory that Itanos has developed special spells to detect lies in kesh users, (though not ul-kesh, of course) BiC:

Wizard had attended the funeral earlier, and afterwards, returned to his seat. When the Tavern collapsed, he managed to dive out of the way of the majority of rubble. After making sure no one was injured, he stood next to the Scribe, staring down the whole in the floor.

Kamille appeared next to Wizard and Scribe, puffing casually on his cigarette. he was, somehow, still perfectly clean. there wasn't a speck of dirt to be found on him at all.

"well that was ######in' unexpected, eh?" he said no noone in particular
"yeah, but it's nothing i haven't seen before." replied wizard, without so much as turning his head.

Kamille pulled a large jug, 3 earthenware mugs and a wooden bento box from the saddlebags on the horse behind him which had somehow gone unnoticed.
he walked casually over and grabbed a few boxes out of the rubble.
"care to join me for milk 'n buns, my good fellows?"

The Scribe shook his head in reply. "I, for one, intend to join the investigation," he declared, positioning himself at the edge of the hole. "Ortansule!" A gentle breeze began to blow from the shaft. The Scribe stepped lightly forward, and began to float down into the darkness.

A few moments later, Sideline returned with a rope. He fastened it around a pillar and proceeded to rappel down into the well.

Workmen arrived and began the all-too-familiar task of reconstructing the tavern. Mort's sign faded away, and Mort himself faded back in. As the carpenters winched a beam up from where it had come to rest on top of the counter, he stared forlornly at the mangled, flattened piece of metal that had once been a beer stein. Yet again, he sighed.

{{ Barkeep, an eighth beer, if you please. }}

This post has been edited by cache22: 29 January 2007 - 04:03 AM

[ooc] so i guess this is fairly behind the TS in terms of time, hey? well, in that case, i can still catch up... decided to bring Alice along as well, because it seemed like the perfect TS for him, what with all the zombies and such running around. [bic]

Katerei followed the others discreetly down the hole, stepping lightly onto the arrows. She unsheathed her dagger and buried the blade in the wall with a quick stabbing motion, using it as a gripping point to help balance herself as she descended the arrows. Withdrawing the dagger and digging it into the wall at a lower point down, she was able to make it down fairly quickly in this fashion, soon joining the group at the bottom.

Up at the top, Alice was standing precariously on the edge of the hole, trying to look down into it. A drunken patron decided to have some fun, and with a rough shove sent him tumbling over into the hole. Yelling in outrage, Alice fell through midair, until something jerked on his arm and he suddenly slowed his descent. He landed at the bottom in a heap, but relatively unharmed.

Standing up and brushing himself off, Alice glared at his ghost that had caught him. "Thanks for nearly tearing my arm off. If you keep saving my life like that, I'm going to kill you one of these days, I swear."

The still-cloaked ghost looked at him blankly and shrugged. With a slight 'hmmph', Alice turned on his heel and followed the sound of voices, having no choice now but to continue going further in.

*OoC* I'm going to assume this is seven years after my chron, in case you are wondering why Aster is about fifteen. *BiC*
From his look-out across the road, Aster was idly watching the carpenters repair the building that had just collapsed. He'd been tempted to check if everything was all right, but his talisman wouldn't be able to deal with meeting so many new people at once. Most of them seemed to have left now, and if he sneaked quietly, he might be able to get inside and get a room without being noticed. All the other taverns and inns in the city were full, and he'd been told to come here. He could now see why it wasn't full.
Fleetingly wondering whether that sort of thing happened often, he reached for his necklace for reassurence, and walked quietly across the road and sneaked through what remained of the doorway.