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

[OoC] i'm new to this, and i really have no idea what's going on... where could i read up to figure this sort of thing out~? [BiC]

Kamille sat down on one of the boxes and slowly munched on a cinnamon bun.
after washing it down with a quart of chocolate milk, he light another cigarette.
not understanding these strange people, he decided it was time for a little training.
he constructed a simple Pell* out of some of the rubble, and began beating at it with his hands.


*if anyone doesn't know-- a pell is like the old-tyme european heavy bag sort of thing... like a log supported vertically by some sort of stand, basically.

Aster managed to get to the bar without being introduced to anyone, and sat down. Now would be the hard part - having to attract someone's attention. The barkeeper wasn't there.
He was too shy to ask someone where the barkeeper was, so just sat there, watching a ghostly frog thing standing on the bar, and really wanting a bunch of grapes.

*OoC*

TMBassassin, on Jan 30 2007, 01:27 PM, said:

Probably the last tavern would be best, it had the longest continuous tavern run I can remember. It's essentially pretty random, although it's occasionally used as a launch pad for a team story. Just post whatever you want to, look for ways to respond to situations, and interact with the characters you know are present in the tavern.
*BiC*

"Damnit, damnit, damnit... This was a stupid idea..."

A small, squeaky voice sounded down the dirt road.

"Go ahead through without the suit he says. We can just call the MMC if you get in trouble he says..."

The voice belonged to a tiny rodent, scurrying down the side of the road, muttering and cursing to itself.

"I swear, if they don't serve scumble, or something equivalently potent here, I'm going to have a fit."

Hamster scurried on, confident that after a few stiff drinks, he'd have this all figured out.

---

Several meters from the site of the Tavern, a tall figure stumbled out of a puff of black vapor, planted both black boots on the ground, and looked around confusedly. It was wrapped entirely in ragged strips of black cloth, concealed mostly by a black cloak, and the top of its head was adorned by a wide-brimmed black hat. Two circles of obsidian glass stared out from its bandaged face, sweeping a panorama, looking for something. The figure stooped, and picked up a handful of soil with a leather gloved hand.

"Not enough pressssence..."

The creature shook its head, and slumped into a pile of cloth, leaving nothing else but a cloud of black vapor, which quickly dissipated.

Jehezekel knelt in the shade of a tree, and ate a flat bread. He had been hoping to quickly find some unused arable land, but most of the land was way too acidic to grow flax on, or even grapes, and the rest of the land was already being farmed. Discouraged, Jehezekel headed back to the Tavern to think of a solution to his dilemma.

*OoC*
Welcome back, Hamster.

If you want me to edit this, please let me know: it's just that you character info post gave me a somewhat funny idea.
*BiC*


Selax was exiting Pnyx: he was in quite a hurry. A valuable gem had been stolen some days ago, and Selax was one of the few that knew just how valuable it was and that its disappearance could spell potential disaster.

Suddenly, a dark creature wearing wide-brimmed hat and rags of black cloth leapt out of the bushes next to him.

"Aaiee!" it yelled as it swept toward Selax. Somewhat surprised, he reflexively extended his arm toward it, and his sword shot out his sleeve, impaling the creature as it landed. The creature seemed to instantly deflate, leaving behind a cloud of dark vapor and a pile of clothes. The vapor quickly dissipated, and Selax shook his head.

This place gets more interesting all the time, he thought, as he flew off.

*OoC* I thought it was too quiet around here. Oh, and Hamster, 'Librarians rule Oook.' *BiC*

Aster had almost summed up the courage to ask for a drink when one patron accused another of looking at him in a funny way. The second enquired if the first required a knuckle sandwich. The first responded by administering one.
An all-out brawl had soon developed, and Aster, forgetting his drink for the moment, sat back and watched, occasionally ducking as the occasional axe, beer mug or stray firebolt whizzed past. He wasn't tempted to join in; the others looked like they were having fun by themselves.
Someone threw a dagger, and it glanced off someone else's armour, and was on course to hit a thin man in a black cloak, carrying a large scythe. Aster was about to warn him when he clearly saw the dagger go through him. There was a metallic clunk. Beer flowed over the bar, as the figure said, {{Damn. Can't I ever have a drink in peace? I wonder how many that is...}}
Aster blinked. He was sure the man had said something, but he didn't remember hearing anything.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Aster had finally gotten his drink. It appeared the ghostly frog was the bartender; how, he couldn't guess, but it was nice to talk to someone who didn't ask questions.
"This sort of thing happens often in here, does it?" he asked amiably, to a background of screams and thunks.
The frog nodded. It could have been his imagination. From what he'd known of frogs, they didn't nod very often. At least it didn't talk.
Turning round so as to get a better view of the brawl, which had escalated into a minor war, he sipped his drink. How the frog had managed to find grape juice, he didn't know, but he had it, and everything was all right.

This post has been edited by CrazyChick: 01 February 2007 - 02:36 AM

Mort started counting off on his finger bones. Eventually he shrugged, and started to raise a finger toward the bartender-ghost-frog. Before he completed the gesture, or even announced his order, a brimming beer stein slid along the bar and skidded to a halt in front of him.

{{ Good service, }} he commented, to no-one in particular. He pulled the dagger out of the previous stein, absently tossed it over his shoulder, and hunched down to stare at beer #9.

This post has been edited by cache22: 31 January 2007 - 04:44 AM

As he walked in through the door, Jehezekel caught the dagger, by the blade. "Yowch!" he declared to anyone who cared to know, and stooping to retrieve it from where it had fallen, he placed the dagger on a nearby table. The raging brawl failed to enlist him, as he walked steadily to the bar, and asked the assembled patrons, and bar frog, if there was something he could bind his cuts with.

Kamille quickly grew bored with the pell. as soon as his hands started to smart nicely, he decided it was time to go back for another drink. with practiced grace his left hand fell to the sheath of the long sword at his side. grasping it right above the sageo he thumed the blade out an inch or so. with his right hand hovering a few inches above the handle of his sword, he took a deep breath. he put his weight on his back leg, the left leg, and then slowly eased his weight foreward onto the right leg, which was foreward in a sort of power-stance. suddenly, his eyes snapped into focus, and with speed greater than a wine-o on a bottle of vodka, his right hand was on the handle of the sword, sweeping it through the pell as a hot knife through water. with his eyes never leaving the now severed pell, he traced the sword along the outside of the sheath before returning the blade to it.
he then proceeded to examine his handy-work. the cut was a clean diagonal one. it was a good cut, but Kamille knew he could do better. the pell, at least, hand split how he inteneded, for a split second it had seemed untouched, and then the top part had slid down to thump on the ground. he was satesfied enough.

climbing over rubble, he made his way to the amazingly untouched bar. sitting on a stool, he ordered another milk.
he was just starting to gulp down the delicious substance when Jehezekel entered, asking for bandages. Kamille handed him the bandages and herbs lying strewn across the bar. it seemed they were in high demand in this sort of place. using it as a conversation started, he casually asked Jehezekel if there was anyone around worth killing.

Chill night air wafted down from the hole in the taverns roof, revealing a darkening sky with stars just starting to sparkle into existence. While a good number of the patrons had been fighting laughter drifted one corner of the heavily damaged room, where several of the masons and carpenters were gathered, speaking merrily with a man at the center of their group. He wore an entire suit of smooth medieval armor over his lean well muscled frame; armor so well polished it shone like the pristine surface of a mirror with its edges trimmed in deep red steel. He wore a matching closed faced helm of the same mirrored metal as the rest of his armor, a decorative set of wings, like those of a dove in flight, adorning either side of the helm, wings which were lacquered to be a beautiful azure color with a brilliant shine. A solid mask of reflective metal was worn over the nose and mouth, hiding all except for his eyes. A silken cape of royal crimson flowed down his back and nearly to the tavern floor, hiding the sheathe he wears to hold his sword. An ornate silver hilt could be seen as it rose from behind his left pauldron, its cross guard crafted in the image of a dragon’s talons with a single sapphire jewel resting just below the blade.

Aron continued his tale of the time he had been stranded alone on a desert isle, forced to defend himself against the dark armies of the native Bananas, gesturing in wild illustration of his heroic battle with wave after wave of yellow fruit. They workers chuckled merrily, greatly enjoying the humorous tale, made funnier by Aron’s sincere insistence that every word was true. An aging master carpenter, his gray hair and beard well trimmed; his brown woolen clothes not exactly fine but indeed well cut, stepped forward and offered Aron his hand, “My lord, have you ever considered becoming a bard in your travels? I know many people who would pay to be entertained so.”

Smiling Aron shook his hand, “That’s a fine idea, but again I’m no lord,” he grinned, “at least not yours.”

The old man waved that off, “Whatever you want to call yourself please let me buy you a round.”

Aron respectfully declined, “I’m sorry I never drink of alcohol myself, though Steve here is a terrible lush, right Steve?” he looked around, then looked to the floor behind him arching an eyebrow, “Steve?” the workers were torn between their laughter and deciding whether the knightly figure was being serious, he looked to them, “You don’t see anything?” several men shook their heads or otherwise answered in the negative, “Exactly!” he exclaimed, looking around the tavern quizzically he spoke so his voice would carry to the rest of the patrons, “Has anyone seen Steve? He’s um… Exactly my height, shape, and build, and he is wearing exactly the same thing I am. He was standing right next to me a moment ago…” he trailed off then spoke up immediately as he remembered one tiny detail, “Oh yes, he’s a shadow, I hope that helps.” Indeed, among all of the patrons in the tavern Aron was at the time the only one to lack a dark silhouette.

At the strange disturbance Mort turned his attention away from the bar for a moment to look back over his shoulder. In his distraction he did not see the dark form which walked along the wall towards the shadow cast by the bar. The rogue shadow clasped the shadow of Mort’s beer, helping itself to a long drink. While the beer stein that sat before the Lich was unmoved the liquid within quickly drained until it was gone. Mort turned back just in time to see Steve place the shadow of the mug back upon the shadow of the bar and promptly walk away…

This post has been edited by Ragnar0k: 31 January 2007 - 04:49 PM

[ooc] Librarian's rule? And that's fine, Selax- Feel free to use them as you might Kleenex. Only thing would be that they're usually pretty quiet. [/ooc]

Hamster panted, finally reaching the large, worn wooden door of the tavern. He quickly scuttled underneath, through the clearance below the oaken slab, and was nearly stepped on.

"Eek!"

Hamster darted to and fro under the feet of a couple patrons still quite embroiled in the brawl, and managed to make a dash to the bar. The tiny rodent scrabbled at the base of one of the stool legs, but they were worn so smooth with use that he didn't make much progress before sliding back down. With a sigh, Hamster concentrated for a few moments, and two bluish eyes sparked into a steady blaze above his tiny form.

Hamster rose up steadily until he reached the surface of the bar, and landed gingerly on the bar top. He looked around for the bartender.

"Barkeep?"

The frog eyed the hamster, there was only the slightest perceptible expression of suprise in its gaze.

>.>



Hamster questioned briefly why there might be a frog sitting behind the bar counter, and that he could really use a stiff gin and tonic about now, when his thoughts were interrupted by a glass which slid to a stop in front of him. Hamster started a bit, approached the glass, levitated himself to its rim, and discovered it was indeed a gin and tonic. His thoughts and questions on how the drink had got here were quickly pushed aside as he began drinking, resting his paws on one of the bobbing ice cubes, and holding his back legs over the edge of the glass.

Jehezekel thanked Kamille for the bandages, and in response to his question replied, "I'm new here, I don't know of any such people yet. You'll have to ask another." He examined the row of bottles behind the bar, and decided that he would like a grape juice, like Aster.

*OoC* Sorry Hamster, it was the scumble. Or you may not have heard of the fact that an avid Discworld fan can buy a bumpersticker with the words: 'Librarians rule Oook'. If I have thoroughly confused you or anyone, good. That happens to be my job. *BiC*

Aster watched, puzzled, as a small hampster levitated onto the bar, and ordered a drink. He sniffed his juice suspiciously. It smelt normal. So there couldn't be anything wrong with it. So the hampster really had talked, and it wasn't just his imagination.
The rodent was now drinking from a glass several times larger than itself. Aster shook his head, and went over to talk to the man with the scythe. The embarassment of introducing himself was far outweighed by the weirdness at the other end of the bar.

This post has been edited by CrazyChick: 01 February 2007 - 02:36 AM

after Aster got up, Kamille slid down the bar, coming to a stop next to the levitating hamster seemingly swimming in what was obviously a stiff gin and tonic. he tentatively held out two fingers, which the hamster promptly met, never once raising his head out of the glass.
Kamille was interested in this hamster. he liked hamsters. they were tasty. this one, however, didn't look so tasty. he looked a lot mo' gangsta than he looked tasty.
unsure of what to do next, Kamille began a conversation.
"so, you any good at fighting?..."

Aster realised he'd traded one degree of weirdness for an even higher order of weirdness, when Mort flipped his hood back and blinked his flaming eyes at him. The lich picked up his empty mug, turned it upside down and shook it. He blinked again, glanced around the tavern, then back at Aster.

{{ Did you see - }} he began, then thought better of it. {{ Ah, bartender... }}

Another mug slid to a halt in front of him. Mort shrugged, and threw the empty beer stein away.

{{ Hi, }} Mort said to Aster. {{ My name's Mort. Are you new here? }}

This post has been edited by cache22: 01 February 2007 - 12:03 AM

By now Aster was getting used to unusual company.
"Um... Yes, I'm new here. My name's Aster. Um... is it just me, or did that hampster," and here he indicated the one in the gin and tonic down the other end of the bar, "Did it talk? And is that sort of thing normal?"
He remembered he was talking to a lich with glowing eyes and a scythe, who was by now staring at a new mug of beer.
"I mean, normal for here, obviously."
{{ Probably. What isn't normal is the rate at which my drink keeps vanishing, be it squashed, knocked over or used to put out fires. }}

[ooc]Ah, understood. Well, understood as well as I suppose I'll be able to. [/ooc]

Hamster pushed up off his ice cube, and looked Kamille over.

"Fighting?"

"Yes... combat."

The small rodent hopped down off of the rim of the glass he was balancing on, and sized up Kamille more carefully. 'Is that a hakama? Sugoi ne...' Hamster mused.

"I suppose so. I'm accustomed to fighting inside an electroni- erm, inside an enchanted shell, but I can manage relatively well in hand-to-paw combat. I'm Hamster, by the way. A pleasure to meet you."

Hamster pulled a small, adorable little grin, and bowed slightly.

This post has been edited by Hamster: 01 February 2007 - 02:38 AM

*OoC*
Thanks, Hamster, if you wish me to edit any of the posts with them in it (this is probably the last one). I was just thinking it could be something of a small funny scenario.
*BiC*


Selax was nearing the outskirts of Cademia, after having made several trips across the island when it happened again. Several creatures like the one that had attacked him outside of Pnyx leapt out and surrounded him.

Not again... he thought.

"Hamsssster," one of the creatures hissed.

"No, I don't know where Hamsssster or Hamssssster or Hamsssssster or even Hamssster is, and I'd be disinclined to tell you if I did. Further, I am not this creature in disguise. Kindly step aside."

They didn't.

In a few moments, Selax was done, leaving several piles of black rags on the ground as he flew away.

[ooc] Sounds good! If you don't like how I'm bringing this, feel free to notify me likewise, and I'll apply edits. [/ooc]

Hmm. That one is strong.

The figure sat on the jet black throne, resting an elbow on one of the great armrests, and resting his head on that hand.

Perhaps it would be advantageous if we were to... offer a proposition.

Several mounds of black chain seated about the throne stirred with the dull sliding sound of metal, the noise reverberated around the cavern until it faded into a distant thunder in the blackness where the ceiling would be.

It would not be the first time we enlisted help for the termination of a target, now would it.

A glint of yellow flashed off the figure's eyes, and the dim outline of a cruel smile peered through the dimness of the cave.

*OoC*
It seems okay, although I must admit to being somewhat confused.
*BiC*


Selax hovered in the sky far above Cademia, safe for the moment from further attacks by the funny creatures that had been hounding him lately. From what he had learned of the situation, it was as grave as he had first feared, but there was a chance that he might be able to avert it. His sources indicated that the device's pieces were scattered and still unaccounted for; all he had to do was find out where the rest of the device was and obtain it. Of course, this meant that he'd eventually have to return to the ground to consult the rest of his sources, even though he'd fly most of the way to reach them. He set off, speeding toward his next destination...

After spending a few more minutes at the bar, Jehezekel headed back out.

This time he had slightly better luck, he found an old, rundown farmstead, and was wondering who had rights to it, when he saw the signpost near the door. It read: "######, #####, Toreon, Retsi~~~~~~"

Jehezekel recalled that he had been at Toreon's memorial, and Retsy was his sister. He started cleaning up the place, as a service to the sister of the deceased.

This post has been edited by Jehezekel: 04 February 2007 - 08:58 AM

"What do you mean?" Aster asked Mort, in response to his outburst.

{{ I mean, I'm sitting here, minding my own business, just nursing my drink, because I can't actually, you know, drink it, and sooner or later, guaranteed, something will happen to it. And why couldn't Sideline just tell me what really happened to beer number... }} Mort started counting on his finger bones. {{ ... six, instead of making up that story about a pink elephant? I mean, just imagine it! A pink elephant, here in the tavern? }}

Everything in the tavern bounced, as something large and heavy hit the floor with a thump. Mort stared at the shocked expression in Aster's eyes, as the latter stared at something over the lich's shoulder.

{{ I don't want to turn around, do I? It's big and scary, isn't it? }}

Aster nervously coughed to clear his throat. "That depends," he replied. "How do you feel about pink elephants?"

A pink, snakelike appendage crept over Mort's shoulder, sniffed around a bit, then plunged into the brimming beer stein sitting on the bar. The beer disappeared with a loud sucking sound. Mort spun around, just in time to catch a glimpse of something large and pink vanishing with a loud 'pop'.

With his eyes still locked on the once again empty space, Mort resignedly reached out and rapped his knuckles on the bar to get the bartender's attention.

*OoC* Nothing much was happening. Time to spice things up! *BiC*

The lich didn't appear to want to talk about his drinks, so Aster kept sipping his, warily watching where the elephant had vanished.
"Has that happened before?" he asked, still a bit jumpy.
{{I'm not sure. I haven't been here for long.}}
It started raining heavily, and those patrons who had to go home started grumbling and getting into their wet-weather gear. They were stopped by an ominous rumble of thunder, and green light flashed somewhere near the mountains. Aster wandered over to the window to have a look, and wasn't surprised to see a lightning bolt strike a tree near the Southern Vinyard.
He went back over to Mort, and said, "Magical storm. Probably caused by those mages in Pnyx."
He didn't hear the lich's reply, as the next bolt hit the Tavern.

This post has been edited by CrazyChick: 07 February 2007 - 10:26 PM

Mort's next beer slid to a halt in front of him just as raw electricity started to spark and jump from his every bone joint. A rather large bolt leaped from his still-outstretched hand, earthing itself on the metal stein. The alcohol vaporised, as the mug slumped down into a pool of liquid metal.

Mort stared at it for a moment, then began to rhythmically pound his skull on the top of the bar.