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

The battling wills were too strong for the little marionette, forcing it to remained rigidly standing in the midst of the warriors.

*OoC*
Did you just freeze everyone in the Tavern or just the two objects? If it is everyone, I'm inclined to think that that might be pushing it as an ability. Because of that and my uncertainty about what you are referring to, I shall act as if everyone is free to move.

I hope that this was a satisfactory conclusion; I don't really feel in a posting mood today, so I'm worried it might not be well done.
*BiC*


Rapierian looked puzzled for a moment and then laughed.

"Oops, wrong potion," he said. "Well, I really must be going now!"

Because of the cloud of smoke, no one was able to reach before he waved his hand and cast his own version of Direct Nexus (one which led to his base and not to Land King Hall).

In a moment, Rapierian was gone. On the floor where he had stood was a small piece of paper which read:

Dear Shanadar,

I've left you a little gift (how nice of me, right?)! On the back of this sheet is a copy of the paper that I read to you earlier.

Of course, that little message is not all that I know about this particular problem, so I suspect that we shall see each other again soon.

Have a nice day,
Rapierian

P.S. If you think that I'm a danger to Cythera, I must guess that you've never examined some of the so-called heroes around this place. Perhaps, you wouldn't like what you'd find if you did so...

[OOC] That was a most satisfactory conclusion, Selax, one I believe I can work well with. My character, on the other hand, is going to be in a really bad mood. Shanadar is off to Pnyx, and should arrive fairly shortly. [/OOC]

Shanadar was pissed. Not only had that other patron decided to interfere at the most inopportune of times, but Rapierian had eluded his dragnet as a consequence. He was beginning to remember why he hated this place so much.

He turned his attention to the intruding patron, Spectre.

"What were you thinking?!" He vented at the Guardian, "Do you realize that if Rapierian had used the right potion, we'd all be dead right now?!"

"I saw an injustice" Spectre responded to Shanadar's fury with stony indifference, "And I resolved to correct it."

"By Alaric!" He exclaimed, somewhat exasperated. Forcibly calming himself somewhat, he retaliated against her defense, "You have interfered with the law, and have, by your hand, allowed a dangerous felon to escape capture. There is no greater injustice than that."

Unable to stand the sight of the fool any longer, his focus returned to Rapierian's location before his escape. Someone had had the wisdom to open a window, and the smoke was beginning to clear. And there, on the floor, was the bundle of papers the Necromancer had left behind.

Shanadar retrieved the bundle, then headed towards the door. One of the patrons was sober enough to realize that something was amiss with the scene, and asked, rather loudly, were the Enforcer was off to.

"To Pnyx" he replied, "And if anyone gets assassinated while I'm away this time there will be hell to pay."

And with that, he left the Tavern and headed hastily to the road. As he went, he examined that which Rapierian had left behind; the 'prophecies' he was raving about, and a more personal note to the Enforcer himself.

As he read the missive, he made special note of the mention that Rapierian held all the cards in the matter. He did not relish the thought of encountering the foul Dark Mage again, but he knew all to well that on such a small island as Cythera, a confrontation was inevitable.

Besides that, the next time they met he could correct the Necromancer's post-script; he did know that the reputations of the Tavern-going 'heroes' were less than stellar, which was part of the reason he held so few inhibitions against risking a confrontation. Morteous was about the only one he was worried about, and Liches were supposedly very hard to keep in the grave.

'At least my crossbow fired straight' He mused as he ran down the dark road to his destination, 'That's never happened before'

*OoC* Selax, it is a powerful ability, I know, but Spectre can only do it in a small area for about ten seconds, and her control is gradually weakening. So eventually it won't work at all, but that's in the far future. *BiC*

Spectre watched Shanadar leave.
Maybe I did make a mistake. But how was I to know?
Sighing, she sat down in her corner, and listlessly played with her drink.
I hope I can find some way to sort that out. And I lost control. Why?
Giving up on this mystery, she quickly swallowed the rest of her drink and ordered another.

Displeased about his lack of findings, Selax had at last decided to return to Cademia.

If anyone had any news of relevance to him, the Alraeican Tavern would be a good place to find out...

This post has been edited by Selax: 11 July 2007 - 10:22 PM

Anyway, my conscience has never been wrong before. What is happening? Spectre thought despairingly.
Suddenly, to her horror, she burst into tears.

Selax opened the door and stepped inside. At that moment, a patron seated at the other end of the Tavern burst into tears. Somewhat puzzled (but not showing it), Selax went to his usual position in the corner and sat down.

Fiercely rubbing her eyes, Spectre tried to erase the traces that showed her lack of control.
I won't do that again. she thought, as she wiped away the last few tears. It's far too embarrassing!
As she wondered what to do next, she yawned.
Spectre blinked. That was a yawn! What is wrong with me? This shouldn't be happening! And why do I feel like closing my eyes now? This isn't normal, not by a long way.
Battling against unfamiliar sensations, she drunk her drink and ordered another.
A voice split through her consciousness.
"Don't you think you've had enough?"
Squinting at the slightly blurry figure in front of her, Spectre slowly fell forwards onto the bar.

*OoC* In case anyone's wondering, Spectre's becoming more human. She'll be feeling a bit odd for a while. *BiC*

After their eventful time away from the beloved Alraeican tavern, the horde of heroes & adventurers once more descended upon the hapless pub, much to the annoyance & endless delight of all barkeepers past, present, & future. But Katerei had reportedly stayed behind to help care for Avatara as he finished healing, & Starfall remained at Pnyx in the hope that the mages could find a way that she could control her power.

First came Silver, his small frame belying enough inertia to send the door spinning off its hinges. Immediately after came Retsy, threatening to pull his wings off with hair pins. Under a table sped Silver, yet that did not slow Retsy, & tankards went flying across the room as patrons not wishing to be inadvertently pummelled dived out of the way. Across the next table danced Silver, skilfully leaving the cards & chips undisturbed, & leapt for the rafters. Retsy dived across the table after him, scattering the game all over, & leapt up to catch him. Silver saw a group of angry drunks approaching, & grabbing her by the wrists, swung Retsy up onto the rafters.

The Scribe & Brianna arrived, & calmly resumed their usual activities in the midst of the chaos. The drunks & gamers did not notice where Retsy was gone to, & accused each other of hiding her. As several more adventurers entered, the Tavern erupted in violence. Jehezekel entered last, & putting his machete away safely, tossed a bottle of flax whiskey into the melee, & barricaded himself behind a table.

This post has been edited by Jehezekel: 24 July 2007 - 08:23 PM

"That was fun!" exclaimed Retsy, grinning. "Let's be wandering-acrobats!"

"Okay!" agreed Silvy without pausing to consider it.

"At least I would," said Retsy suddenly, "if it wasn't my destiny to take over the world. I really wish it wasn't, I think it will be scary."

"Are you sure it is?" Silvy asked her.

"Of course!" she said gloomily. "Just watch, I'll summon those cards with my magical powers. And then," she brightened, "we can play cards up here!"

Retsy concentrated her nonexistent magical energy on a deck of cards on a random table. Suddenly a couple of fighting patrons knocked the table over, and the cards scattered across the floor.

"See!" Retsy exclaimed triumphantly.

Silvy suppressed a giggle. "Um, Retsy, it was the drunk fighting people who knocked over the table, and the cards are further away from us now than they were before!"

"I just haven't learned to control my powers yet!" Retsy explained. "That's what I'm going to do, I'm going to learn to control them perfection. And then I'll have the ability, and I will take over the world. Even though I don't want to. I just have way too much power to not take over the world..."

And out of boredom, Retsy continued to attempt to summon playing-cards; and became more convinced of her power than ever when a patron slipped on one of the cards on the floor and fell on his face.

Meanwhile, Silver used his filaments to pick up cards behind Retsy, & neatly pile them in order. He soon had four decks of cards, & ten dice of various colours. Then he made a gossamer table between him & Retsy, & proposed that they play a game with all the cards & dice. Though convinced that she should be practising the use of her delusional powers, Retsy could not resist playing the very intriguing game which they made-up as they went along.

Jehezekel slipped unobtrusively through the chaos, over to The Scribe's table, & quietly watched & listened as the Tavern boiled, & a stray bottle slammed him in the back of the head. *Crash* *thunk*

Earlier, Selax had overheard someone mention Rapierian's clash with Shanadar in the Tavern and, after a bit of listening and asking the right questions, had learned what had happened. He was not surprised that the necromancer knew of Cythera nor that he possessed one of the black books.

Calmly making his way through the chaos, Selax reached Wizard and then listened to him tell the story of their adventure at Pnyx. When Wizard was finished, Selax pondered what he had heard. He found that Shanadar had already told Wizard of Rapierian's visit to the Tavern, and the two began to discuss it once more.

The Tavern was quiet for the time being, so Wizard, for some reason, decided to liven things up by causing mayhem. He cast an illusion on everyone's mind that he could affect. The door burst open and in ran pitchfork-weilding, miniature Lindus monsters.

Wizard sat back to watch the chaos ensue until one of the Lindus monsters began to tug on his robe. . .

OoC: This is not a lead-in for a new TS I just wanted something exciting to happen in the tavern. This is really exciting, isn't it? BiC:

This post has been edited by The Wizard: 05 August 2007 - 05:47 PM

Selax sat in his seat and pondered what he had been told, almost ignoring the chaos that had erupted around him.

Suddenly, Wizard fell out of his seat.

"Help!" he called to Selax. "One of my illusions is trying to drag me away!"

Silvy & Retsy were still playing their game, oblivious to what was happening below them.

"I rolled a 12, your Draw Four is trumped, & you have to give me two spades"

"But 12 means I counter-roll." *clatter* "I roll a 9! Hand over your chips!"

*sigh* "There you go. I play my King of Diamonds."

*clatter* "4? NOOOO!"

"Hand over your dice. & I must give you my Aces, & 7s"

& so it continued for some time...

Before Selax could decide quite what to do, Wizard was pulled into the midst of the chaos he had created.

Sighing inwardly, the elemental rose, made his way over, and tossed people and other objects aside until he found Wizard. Then, he picked the old man up and put him back in his seat.

From the darkness outside, a man walked in. He was fairly tall and through his hair you could bairly see his eyes. He wore normal clothes and a pouch hung on his side, but in his right hand was a strange red hat, the hat was strange for it resimbeled a classic wizard hat but was terribly beaten up and dirty. He walked over to the bar, put the hat on the counter, and sat down on one of the stools. After noticeing a few people giving him strange looks, he looked over at the bartender. "What'll it be sir?" the bartender said while leaning onto the counter trying not to touch the hat. The man said nothing but only pointed to a bottle on the wall, the bartender looked over and started to prepare a glass of it. "How much?" the man said not making eye contact with the bartender, "For hot water? No charge.". As the bartender left to greet another customer, the man reached into his pouch and pulled out a strange littler bag containing a dark colored powder, wich he put into his drink. After taking a few sips he turned to see what else was happening on in this tavern.

OoC: Bam.

*OoC*
One minor detail: it is customary to post info on your TS character in the pinned Character Info topic (just imitate any of the other patterns that people there use).

By the way, welcome to the Tavern.
*BiC*


By this time, the Tavern had deteriorated into complete chaos. Objects (including a few people) were being thrown around the room. Fights had broken out in at least six different places. Several people were standing on tables or chairs screaming about how the world was ending...

Hearing all the people screaming about the end of the world, Silver hung down to see what was happening. Nothing seemed unusually interesting, so he turned back to the game, only to find that Retsy had cheated terribly. As retribution, she had to give-up all her green cards, which she was loath to do, & didn't even find any solace in discovering that green cards didn't exist in the game.

Retsy's ability to throw dice forcefully in a straight line was quite surprising to Silver, & he suggested that she bring a supply with on the next adventure she joined. Retsy's reaction to that comment is best gauged as a ratio describing dice-per-minute in relation to feet-per-second...

Shanadar could not stand it.

The last few weeks had been bereft of sanity or reason, as though chaos itself had come to rule his orderly realm. And the Tavern, the one place he had hoped to find some semblance of solace, was worse than what he had encountered out in the world. And Morteous, the Enforcer's one friend in that cesspool, had not strayed from his barstool since he had returned, as though death itself had truly caught up with him.

Something had to give, and the Enforcer was not about to let himself go insane.

And so, after tying up some loose ends with the other patrons/adventurers/mystic-soldiers-of-fortune, he left the insanity of the Tavern in search for some peace and quiet. After walking along the alleyways for a time, beating some of the more unruly thugs he encountered senseless, he came to the plaza. Taking in a deep breath of fresh air after escaping the maze of slums behind him, he paused to reflect upon the shadows cast by the candlelight that escaped the surrounding buildings. And, for the first time in many nights, he felt quite at ease. Even if only for a moment.

With a renewed vigor and a spring in his step, the seasoned Enforcer continued to stroll about. Waltzing through the nicer region of the city, he felt the masonry of each wall, silently greeting the brick and mortar like old friends. A short time later, Dares Eatery came into view.

Before, he had gone to that fetid hive of a Tavern for a drink because both the Eatery and the Inn were closed. Perhaps by now Dares and Diomede had re-opened their fine restaurant? He came to the door, which back-lit from the candles inside, and was pleased to find it unlocked, even in spite of the late hour.

Entering quietly, he surveyed the establishment. It was quiet and pristine, in stark contrast to both the Alraeican Tavern and the Two Tailed Rat, each table possessing neatly-placed matching silverware, and even a complementary stick of butter.

He could hear the proprietary couple rustling about in the kitchen, but the establishment was largely empty, save for the Mage Anisa, who was busy reading several old volumes over her late-night meal near the window. Not wanting to seem like he was avoiding her, he took a seat a chair over from the Historian.

Dares eventually made his way over, and Shanadar put in an order for a hearty full meal (as well as a matching tip), and was soon eating from a large platter of fine foods. It had been far too long since the Enforcer had treated himself to a proper meal. Within a short time, he was gorging himself with fine meats, cheeses, fruits, and wine. The Enforcer was contented indeed, even if the meal would substantially lighten his coin-purse.

After a time, the Master Historian, momentarily disengaging from her studies by an unusual quandary, took note of the Enforcer's presence a short ways from her.

"Excuse me? Shanadar is it?" Anisa addressed the Enforcer, "Could you perhaps help me with a question?"

"I guess so, ma'am" He responded, somewhat bemused by her inquiry.

"I've been reading these old books, and there are several references to a certain 'Tree of Life' which I have no other account of. Would you, perhaps, know of such a thing?"

"I'm afraid I've never heard of a Tree of such, ma'am" the Enforcer replied, regretful that he could not answer her question.

"Ah, I suppose it was a silly thing to ask anyways..." Anisa said, obviously trying to hide her disappointment. Clearly, she believed she was onto something big, but, for once in her life, had absolutely no clue what she had uncovered.

Shanadar's jovial mood was somewhat dampened by the Historian's downcast expression.

"Perhaps someone else knows" the Enforcer chimed, hopeful, "If anyone mentions it, I'll be sure to refer them to you."

And empty gesture, to be sure, but it brought out a wry smile on the Mage's face. Somewhat comforted, Anisa returned her attention to her books. And Shanadar, having finished his meal, attended to paying his dues to his host.

After relinquishing the sum of oboli which he owed, he made his way back outside.

As much as he hated to go back to the Tavern, if anyone knew the answer to Anisa's question, he would likely find them there. No need to set them off one one of their destructive 'adventures' so soon, however. He'd wait to bring up Anisa's 'Tree' until someone else brought it up in conversation...

OOC alas! i join the Tavern! BIC

The smell of liquor was strong in the air.
it was a smell the Prophet was used to
ahhhh! he thought to himself, friendly drunks and brawls to enjoy.
my my what a time he was to have.
And of course he was here to give the occasional advice and vision.
pushing open the doors the view was splendid, tavern mayhem.
he walked up to the counter and ordered his first drink for the night.

The man sat up, it was nearing 10'o'clock and what he had come to do was about to start. He left a tip on the counter crabed his beat red hat and headed for the door, passing by drunks and barmaids who didn't seem to really notice him. Pushing his way through the old dusty doors he head towards a light post adjecent to the bar.

He waited. He stood 2 meters from the light post staring down the dark roads, waiting for someone to walk down his way. It was now very quiet and most people had gone to bed, the only noise was the occasional yelp and hollar from the Tavern near by. After nearly a half hour of waiting something did come into view. A man, tall but rather old and he looked worn and tired. The man passed by and gave a glance to the man under the lamp post and went inside the tavern. He had seen the man earlier in the tavern when he had first arrived, he left with a disgruntled look on his face, looking like he wanted to escape the chaos of the tavern. This however was not the person he was waiting for, and now he thought the pick-up would never show.

He reached inside his pouch and pulled out a small box made of fine silver. The box was small and seemed ready to be put on a womans make-up table, it had beautiful thin lines going all around it, swirling and diveing with each other, but on the lid in very fine print it read, "All that I am to the Worthy". He held it in his hand staring at it, it was one of the most stunning things he had ever seen, as if a peice of sunlight was forged into this tiny little box. He was tempted to open it, but he was given very explicit instructions not to.

He was growing weary of waiting now, an hour and a half had passed since he had arived, and now the smell of drunks sleeping oustide the tavern was getting to him. They had told him to go to the catacombs, get the box and meet them back here today at 10'o'clock, and now after all the danger and trouble they were apperently not showing. However, in one way he was thankful, deep inside he wants to open the box. In the catacombs he had discovered a room, it was a very plain stone room but on the far wall was a tree carved into the stone. The tree looked like one he had never seen before, the uper right section of it was detroyed and a moon lay just above the destruction. He staired only a few moments and left with the box in his hands.

He decided that he would still wait, he was a professional after all, but he would wait back in the tavern. So he went back into the now calmer tavern, grabbed a seat in the corner and sat watching the door, waiting.

*OoC*
If anyone thinks this makes Rapierian too strong, please let me know.
*BiC*


Somewhere on the outskirts of the city, Rapierian whistled as he made his way through the deserted streets.

He was bored.

Briefly, he considered drugging the drinks in the Tavern again but decided that would end up being more trouble than it was worth. He considered scaring a few peasants, but he'd already done that a few times earlier. He considered putting something in the food and drink at Dares Eatery or in the kitchen at the castle.

Suddenly, as he was lost in his thoughts, he turned a corner and bumped into someone. Losing his balance, he staggered and fell onto his back. As he did so, he threw out his arms to steady himself, and a vial flew out of one of his sleeves and high into the air.

"Uh oh, this could be unpleasant," he muttered, as he saw the vial begin to fall back down toward him. Quickly, he rolled out of the way and threw up his cloak to shield his face. The necromancer was always careful to make sure that he had antidotes and counters to all of his potions applied both to himself and his cloak. As he lifted the cloak, he caught a glimpse of the person that he had had bumped into and inwardly groaned in annoyance when he saw it was Anisa, her eyes glowing as she readied a spell and stood back to her feet.

He was reasonably certain that he could defeat her, Master though she was, but it might attract others and it would be boring. Sighing, he readied a spell of his own.

As it turned out, it was a moot point. The vial fell, landed on Anisa's head, and released a cloud of vapor.

She sneezed, coughed, and shook her head, trying to clear away the gas. Although she was a Master, she was not an alchemist and had been got somewhat off guard. She fell down once more and started to convulse.

Chuckling, the necromancer strode toward her. She managed to look at him but was not quite able to speak.

"Now that," he said, having trouble not laughing, "that was funny! Funny enough that you should live for another day to write it down! And, besides, I'm magnanimous or ruthless or kind or evil or a nice guy or an evil, no-good, rotten villain or just amused. Here. You might want to see a healer too, just in case." He pulled out another vial and threw at the ground in front of her. It released another cloud of vapor, one which counteracted the effects of the first potion.

Rapierian turned from the magess, who was already starting to recover, and strode off into the night.

As he went, he no longer restrained himself and let himself have a good laugh.

Jehezekel awoke to find himself lying behind the Tavern. He shrugged & fell into a deep sleep, even as maniacal laughter wafted past on the night breeze.

Selax, on Sep 3 2007, 06:39 PM, said:

OoC: Depends on how you use it. I wouldn't make a potion do anything to drastic, and it could be good to also make him blunder on which potion he uses every once and a while.

BiC:

Yomu was groing tired and the hour was late. The only thing keeping him awake were the wasps in his belly, he must have something to eat. Slowly getting out of his chair he grabbed his stomach which was now a hornets nest. Making his way over to the counter he could smell the wonderful chickens roasting on a spit, the wasps kept stinging. Faintly making it to the counter he slightly waved to the bartender, "Please, could you?" he said pointing over to the spit. "Oh? Why certainly", the large bartender yanked off one of the hot golden birds, put it on a plate, and dropped it right infront of Yomu. "Well er- let me see, that'll be 15 oboili." (OoC: crap forgot how to spell obolli...) Yomu stared at the bartender, the baretender stared back... "Uh, what.. is it?", Yomu paused again, "I-I have no cash.." he said wishing the wasps would settle down. "Look mister if I give one guy a free meal, soon the whole damned village 'ill want one. Ya' folla?", "Uhng-" Yomu gasped as he colapsed onto his bar stool, he couldn't take the barrage any longer.