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

Rapierian stopped reading for a moment and glanced around the tavern. Momentarily surprised at its emptiness, he shrugged and returned his attention to his book.

Silverfish got bored & decided to attempt to have a conversation with the stranger. After a few minutes the conversation ended & Silver withdrew onto the rafters. A few minutes later the semblance of goat horns appeared in a natural looking relation to Rapierian's head. And then they started producing the theme music of Tavara's Stronghold.

*OoC*
This is the lead-in to the TS. I realize it is somewhat abrupt and my apologies for that.
*BiC*


At that moment, the door opened and Selax entered the room.

Closing the door behind him, the elemental paused for a moment and looked around. Spotting Wizard, he made his way over to him and sat across the table from him.

For a moment, the two conversed in low tones.

"What?" Wizard asked, raising his voice slightly in surprise. "That is unusual. How long has this been
occurring?"

Before Selax could reply, Yomu, curious and eager to forget his dart game, broke in, "How long has what been occurring and what is unusual?"

Selax glanced at him for a moment.

"It seems that recently, near the mountains some distance south of here, near Kosha, the citizenry have been finding mutilated animals—both predator and prey animals. The displays are described as gruesome and they are becoming quite disturbing—and somewhat worrying—to the local citizenry."

"Could it be harpies?" someone asked.

"No, harpies have been found among the slain. Indeed, so have several other dangerous predators, such as polyps."

"Really? Killing harpies and polyps?" Radik mused. "Certainly doesn't sound like any predator I've ever heard of in those areas."

"No, it doesn't," Wizard agreed. "It also does not sound like some sort of roving band of ruffians. I think that someone might want to look at this. It sounds as if something strange is going on."

"Agreed," Selax stated.

"Any volunteers?" Wizard asked the onlookers.

A few people quickly stepped forward.

After a bit more elaboration from Selax as to the area of the strange occurrences, a small group was assembled and set out toward the site of the strange mystery...

"A Quest! A Quest!" Squealed Silverfish as he resorbed the 'horns' by Rapierian's head, and dove into the midst of the gathering party of adventurers.

Yomu grunted, it was not an ordinary mark. "No reward? No contact?", Yomu pondered to himself, "Strange indeed."

He left Selax and Wizard's side and took a seat at a corner table. He turn and noticed a plump rat resting against a lamppost just out a nearby window, "Maybe I should sit this one out." He looked at the rat for a few until in his surprise, the rat looked at him. They stared at each other for a little while. Yomu heard others gearing up to go, still Yomu and the rat's eyes met. More time went by and many adventurers were leaving, Yomu still was alone in his corner seat, staring at an overweight rat laying against a lamppost.

Yomu shot up, "Nooo!"


Moments later...

In the shadows near the back of the Tavern, a silent figure sat clasping a pewter mug. She wore a cloak with the hood lowered, and long, blue hair spilled over her shoulders down to her waist. Although the mug was filled with water, she didn't drink from it, just sat with her hands wrapped tightly around it as if afraid it would run away.

Katerei gave a shuddering sigh, oblivious to the tavern around her. The patrons went on with their business, ignoring the woman who rarely talked and never smiled. She had spent much of the last couple weeks here, always sitting alone at the same table. Mostly she was there during the day when it was calmer, but occasionally she stayed late into the night, just watching the patrons dismally. At the moment though, she was wrapped up in her own thoughts, somewhere between asleep and awake.

The disastrous wedding at Pnyx, and the events after it, weighed heavily on her mind. Katerei's insides twisted into a knot as she recalled them, unable to stop images surfacing in her memory. She tried to spend as much time around people as she could to provide a distraction, and keep her psyche grounded, but that wasn't always possible. At night she lay in bed awake, staring into the darkness, replaying things over and over in her mind.

Katerei didn't realize that she was falling asleep until her head collided with the table and the pewter mug fell over, spilling water into her lap. She cursed and waved a hand over her sopping dress to absorb the water back into the air. However, it had startled her enough to make her aware of her surroundings, just in time to overhear a voice say "It also does not sound like some sort of roving band of ruffians. I think that someone might want to look at this."

Looking around in surprise, Katerei realized it was Wizard speaking, and Selax was seated next to him. When Wizard asked, "Any volunteers?" Katerei's thought started racing.

It sounds like a quest. That means the patrons will be leaving... and... there'll be hardly anyone left here. Which defeats the purpose of me being here. Katerei's brow furrowed. Maybe it would do me some good to get out and see some action. At the very least it'll distract me for a little while.

Barely processing what she was agreeing to, she stepped forward along with the other volunteers.

While Wizard and Selax were organizing the group of volunteers together, Radik slipped away from the group and conversed with the bar tender. Shortly after a quick, slightly heated discussion, Radik put some oboloi on the bar and the bar tender handed over a bag with several bottles. He nodded, grabbed the bag, and walked back over to Wizard and sat down. Right, now where did I put my drink...

Loathe as he was to leave his city again so soon, Shanadar knew that he needed to keep a close eye on Rapierian (and possibly that guy from the past who hitch-hiked with them to the present). He'd probably be asked to investigate this matter anyway, seeing as how it was disturbing the citizenry.

Mumbling a few choice curse words, he followed the party out the door.

At first, the strange man had considered joining the adventurers, but when he saw that Rapierian intended to participate, he drifted back to his stool & pulled out a stack of paper, which he stared at for a long time.

*bump* A man closed the door gently behind himself. The strange man looked up from his papers, wondering if the adventurers had returned already...

OoC: I feel like the Tavern would have a hard time staying untouched by the current TS BiC:

They hadn't, it was just a traveller trying to find a bathroom.

(That's why the tavern topic should probably become separate from the stories again.)

After months of solitude in her farm, Retsy decided to brave society again and go to the nearest city, Cademia.

Retsy had long been avoiding her fate of becoming an evil magess. Well, to be fair, she was already an evil magess, but seeing as she had no idea yet of how to control her powers, she was able to be in denial about her abilities by shutting herself up alone in her old farmhouse. But she couldn't fight destiny forever.

Her clothes were wearing out, and she was running out of food. She'd never been very good at farming or sewing, so it seemed that she needed some sort of income. She figured evil magery probably paid pretty well. Thus Retsy was finally motivated to pursue her destiny.

Her destination was Berossus, the mage-judge of Cademia. She remembered one of her fellow adventurers advising her to talk to Berossus about her powers. Ah, the adventurers. The adventuring. The heroism. Good times. How she longed to go back. But she could never be a heroine again. Her only notable skill was her evil Dark Magic, and thus she would have to be a villain instead. Oh well.

It occurred to Retsy that she did not know where Judge Berossus lived. For that matter, she did not know where anything was. It was getting very dark out, because it had taken her so long just to find Cademia. Now the only place she had any idea how to find was the Tavern.

The Tavern, which she ultimately wandered toward, was as-good-as the home of many adventurers. It would perhaps be a bit embarrassing to show her face in there. The heroes probably missed her terribly. They would probably lift her in the air and cheer, singing to her and toasting her for the sheer joy of seeing her again. But surely they could give her directions to Berossus's house. Yes, she would go in.

Retsy approached the Tavern, seeing bright lights through the window and hearing a great ruckus even from the distance. Hmm, livelier than she remembered. Had they seen her coming?

When Retsy timidly opened the door; however, she discovered than the ruckus was not a sound of joy, but of despair. The (many numerous) drunks in the room were sobbing, wailing, and joining together in songs with depressing lyrics about how their girlfriends stole their trucks and left them, on Christmas! Furthermore, Retsy recognized none of the patrons at all.

Making herself as small as she could, Retsy slowly weaved between drunk people, looking for heroes. She made her way to the bar and climbed on an empty bar-stool to get a better look.

"Aren't you a bit young to be drinking?" asked the barkeeper.

Retsy was offended that he did not recognize her, even though she lived in the rafters for a time. "I am Retsy, the great evil magess!" she declared.

"Right," answered the barkeeper in a tone that Retsy (with great effort) managed to pretend was sincere.

"I am looking for my friends," continued Retsy. "Or, I suppose I should call them my minions, as they will all serve me after I take over the world. But I don't see any of them in here. This place is depressing now."

"It's the end of the world, Miss Retsy," the barkeeper explained. "What can you do, but drink? I've got to admit, it's great for business. Now who exactly were you looking for?"

Retsy didn't process his statement immediately, but answered the question. "I don't know, the pink girl or the butterfly boy maybe..."

"Hmm, I don't know about little Enna, but Silverfish was among a group that set off on an adventure a couple of weeks ago. Of course, that was before The End of the World began... Don't worry about him, he's with the best of Cythera's heroes. Surely he's okay."

"The end of the world?" Retsy murmured.

"Haven't you noticed?" The barkeeper asked, and when Retsy shook her head, he went off on a tangent about all the horrible things that had been happening lately. Retsy zoned out, thinking.

The end of the world. Of course. The world needed her, and she'd fled. And now it was ending. She thought back to her past heroic adventures: The time she threw a rock at a ruffian, how she had lead the group to some evil Undine, when she found a secret passageway, when only she could get a stranger to talk, how her clever thinking had found the way into Tavara's fortress, and of course, how she was one of the very few people who remembered that a wedding was a time of joy and celebration. Surely she had single-handedly determined the success of all of those adventures, for without her, the heroes had been doomed to fail. They would have been killed by ruffians, and Undine would have taken over the world, Katherine would have never been saved, and Malis' wedding would have been an utter disaster.

All those things Retsy had prevented, but now she neglected an adventure, and the world was ending. And it was her fault. Her descent into evil villainy had begun.

The barkeeper finished up his monologue. "...and rumour has it that a power entity known as 'The Master' is taking over and will kill or enslave us all."

That caught Retsy's attention. "What?!" She seethed. "This is my world! I claimed it!"

"Just sharing the rumours," said the barkeeper kindly. "Who knows what's really going on..."

Retsy began thinking again. Was it really her destiny that she personally take over the world? Or was it perhaps that she, whether by action or inaction, should cause the world to be taken over? Could she have maybe, just maybe, already fulfilled her destiny by sitting in her farmhouse doing nothing? She would need to think about this.

She put a coin on the counter. "One grape milk, please."

One of the patrons sitting next to Retsy observed her distress and decided to offer a helpful suggestion.

"A grape milk costs twice that amount, you know," he said, pointing at the coin. Satisfied that he had been helpful, he turned back to his own drink.

"What?" Retsy exclaimed in surprise. A grape cow barely cost twice that amount, why would grape milk be so expensive?

There was only one possible explanation.

It was a scam!

No wonder Retsy had recognized neither the bartender nor the patron who informed her of the grape milk price. In the past four-and-a-half years since any heroes had set foot in the Tavern, it had been taken over by scam artists!

Retsy fell off her barstool in her haste to grab the obol she'd placed on the counter. Ungracefully she scrambled to her feet again, snatching up her obol and clutching it to her chest. She panted, terrified, her wide eyes darting between the fake-bartender and the fake-patron.

She prided herself on her quick wits (after all, it had taken her little more than a year to work out that she was being scammed), but she had no idea what these miscreants would do to her now that she'd discovered their intents. Would they rob her? Would they imprison her so that she couldn't tell the authorities? She tried to edge away from the "bartender" & "patron", who, so far, were only giving her odd looks.

"Are you okay, miss?" asked the "patron." "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I haven't seen him!" Retsy squeaked, continuing to back away. "Where is he?! What have you done with him?!" Her voice was becoming very loud & high-pitched.

"Who?"

"The FROG!" Retsy screamed.

The "patron" glanced at the "bartender." The "bartender" stared levelly at Retsy, before finally replying, "he... retired." He took a step toward her, "look-"

But Retsy screamed when he stepped toward her, and immediately ran. Unfortunately, she was in too much of a hurry to look where she was going, and ran right into a beer barrel, hitting her head hard, & fell to the floor, unconscious.

The "patron" and "bartender" stared for a moment. "She knows," the "patron" pointed out.

"So?" said the "bartender" defensively. "We haven't done anything wrong. This establishment was abandoned, we're merely providing service to fill the need. And our prices are our prerogative!"

"One could argue that we're taking advantage of drunk people by charging exorbitant prices for drinks. And what if she tells the proprietor or one of his employees about our racket?"

"That would not be ideal," admitted the "bartender," "but we don't know whether any of those people still exist in Cythera. I think we're safe, but just to be on the safe side, when she wakes up, perhaps we can convince her that this was all a misunderstanding..."

(The two scammers spent the next couple of hours making a ghost-frog-puppet.)

Alice closed the bathroom door behind him. He wasn't feeling fully refreshed, but he felt a lot better than he did after eating that nasty lunch. The quality of the food here had certainly gone downhill! Pointedly ignoring the cloak floating behind him, he made his way back towards his table, only to notice the girl lying unconscious on the floor, lying in a puddle of beer leaking from a barrel. She looked kind of familiar, and definitely too young to be drinking beer.

"Um, does anybody want to help?" Alice asked, glancing around. The few faceless patrons sitting around the room ignored him. Two men at the bar were busy building some kind of paper-maché lump, spilling glue, string, and glitter all over the place. The cloak behind him shrugged. "All right, I guess I'll do it." He sighed and leaned down to scoop up Retsy.

She was heavy for a girl and the alcohol made her skin sticky, but he managed to drape her over his shoulder and carry her upstairs, intent on finding an empty guest room for her to recover out-of-sight. Just as he climbed the final step, he nearly stumbled over a young girl, brown hair cascading over her shoulders, eyes as wide as saucers as she gawked at Retsy.

"Hey! What are you doing to my friend?" Mariya said, very loudly.

Alice's face reddened. "Uh, this isn't what it looks like."

The cloak behind him chimed in with "..."

all you deadbeats ever seem to do is hangout in taverns.

Startled, the patrons of the Tavern glanced around wildly, attempting to identify the source of the mysterious booming voice.

"You're right," one of them started sobbing. "I'm going to go home and rethink my life!"

Several others nodded in agreement, and they all headed for the door.

At the bar, the two scammers looked up for a moment before continuing their work.

"I hate it when that happens," the "bartender" muttered.

Alice gaped at his ghost. "You can talk? Out loud?! & Who are you calling a deadbeat!"

--------------

Down at the bar, the "bartender" and "patron" were hard at work at their papier-mâché frog.

"It's not fair, Ron," the "bartender" complained.

"Hmm? What's not fair, Bart?" asked the "patron."

"All the costumers deserting me," sighed Bart. "I know they'll be back eventually, but still, I wish they had a bit more loyalty. Doesn't anyone know how much effort I've put into becoming a bartender? I am the perfect bartender!"

"You mean besides the quality of your cooking?" Ron asked.

"Yes, besides that."

"& besides charging reasonable prices?"

"Yes, yes, that too."

"& besides keeping the place half-way clean & up to code?" pressed Ron.

"YES!" declared Bart, getting annoyed. "All those things are trivial! The key to being a perfect bartender is conversation. Do you know how much time I've spent keeping up with current events & gossip? Do you know how many tabloid magazines I've read?!"

"Yes, I've noticed," said Ron flatly.

"& no one appreciates it!" ranted Bart. "Hardly anyone even talks to me! No one asks me about Flynn & Moonshadow's divorce, or Rogan's illegitimate child, or Avatara's criminal record! No one cares about Ferazel's breaking & entering charges, or Fanatic's grandpa's death, or Grapper's secret elopement! Nor about how Katerei's talking bird cussed out Matron Thuria, or how Talm's hot air balloon crashed into the Magisterium causing several hundred thousand oboloi worth of damage. Did you know that through dangerous alchemical experimentation, Larc accidentally permanently transformed himself into a lark? Did you know that Talm's pet wolflizard and Razmalak's pet wolflizard recently confessed that they're madly in love & want to have babies? (We're still not sure if they meant they want to breed, or if they desire to eat some human babies) Few people seem to have heard yet that Satori died again, and that Cat has officially broken the World Record for longest cat-nap ever! I've even heard-" here Bart leaned in close to Ron and dropped to a whisper - "that Desert Fox used a stunt double for his pornographic film!"

Ron stared at Bart for a moment, and blinked. Finally he said, "I don't know who any of those people are."

"And that is why I am the bartender, and you are not," said Bart with satisfaction.

Ron glanced around the filthy, deserted tavern. "Yes, you're clearly the better candidate for that job," he agreed.

"There!" declared Bart, abruptly changing the topic to their puppet project. "Done! What do you think?"

Ron surveyed the wet papier-mâché frog. It was quite lumpy, and not at all transparent or ghostly. "Uhh, it'll probably be perfect, when it dries."

"Ron" glanced at Bart and shook his head. There were times (occurring more and more frequently) the daemon Kitran wished he had not allowed himself to be dragged into this scheme.

He had had misgivings about this plan from the start, but it had seemed simple enough. Disguise himself as a human, infiltrate the Tavern, and then poison the heroes at some point. This had involved kidnapping the ghost frog (who was presently secured in a special cage under the bar) and replacing the bartender. Naturally, he had had no intentions of lowering himself to such a position; thus, he had been forced to find help. Fortunately (and unfortunately), he had stumbled upon Bart at an early stage.

It had been easy to convince the man that the real goal of the operation was simply to price-gouge the Tavern's patrons, and he remained thoroughly unaware of his partner's true nature and intentions. They had waited until the heroes were all out on a quest, kidnapped the frog, and taken over the Tavern. Then, all Kitran had to do wait for the quest to end...which had turned out to be a much longer time than he had thought. Bart, meanwhile, threw himself into his role with gusto, getting quite carried away and risking driving his companion to violence.

Kitran sighed irritably. Now, all of his hard work was at risk. The girl presumably had no knowledge of his true goals, but she knew enough to prompt more investigation. Something would have to be done...

Several hours later, when Retsy awoke, she wandered back downstairs, trying to remember what had happened.

Not many were patronizing the Tavern presently (unless they were hiding in the shadows - one can never be sure), though there was a large puddle of beer on the floor near the bar, which the bartender didn't seem bothered about mopping up.

The bartender. Retsy stared at the man behind the counter; there was a thought nagging at her, but she couldn't quite remember what it was. Did she have some kind of problem with the bartender? But surely not, if she had, why would she have checked into a room upstairs?

Retsy glanced around the Tavern again, but still failing to find any friends, she walked over to the bar. One man was sitting at the bar, but the bartender was gone. Or had he ever been there? Had she imagined him?

Retsy sat down, waiting for someone to serve her. Suddenly a sparkly, lumpy frog popped up from behind the counter. At first Retsy wasn't sure if it was real, or some kind of toy, but then it spoke.

"Hello Retsy, remember me? I'm the ghost of the frog," said the frog. It didn't move its mouth when it talked, but that was probably because it was a ghost.

"You look different..." noted Retsy. "Did you get a haircut?"

The frog stared at her for a moment. "...yes," it said at last. "I got a haircut."

"I like it," said Retsy. "The bald look is very in these days."

"The bald look has always been in, among frogs," the frog pointed out. Retsy looked confused. Her eyes glazed over as she tried to remember the various frog haircuts she'd seen in her life. The frog quickly tried to distract her. "Er, can I get you something to eat or drink?" he offered.

"Grape milk," said Retsy promptly, "with a shot of chocolate."

"That'll be three oboloi, please," said the frog.

"WHAT?!" Retsy exclaimed.

"Two oboloi for the grape milk, chocolate is one obol extra," the frog explained calmly.

"That's preposterous!" Retsy shouted angrily. "You can't charge me three oboloi for a drink!"

Ron, the man who was sitting at the bar near Retsy, leaned over the counter to whisper at the bartender, Bart.

"Ix-nay on the rice-pay ouging-gay!" Ron whispered sharply.

"What?" whispered Bart back. "You know I could never understand Pig Latin. What are you trying to tell me? Hurry up, my arm's getting tired." (Bart was sitting on the floor behind the counter, hidden from Retsy's sight, and holding up the papier-mâché frog puppet with one hand.)

"You're going to make her suspicious again!" said Ron. "Just give the girl the milk and get her out of here before she botches up the whole operation!"

"What?" asked Bart. "I'm not just going to take a loss on that milk!"

Ron growled in annoyance. Meanwhile, Retsy was blinking back and forth between the man leaning over the counter, and the frog. "Are you talking to someone?" she asked Ron.

"No, just seeing if anyone dropped any change back there," said Ron hurriedly.

"Ooh, can I see?" asked Retsy, climbing onto the counter.

"No!" shouted Ron, jumping to pull Retsy back off before she saw anything. "There uh... could be mice back there."

"Aww," said Retsy, disappointed.

Suddenly, the real ghost of the frog floated right through the bars of his cage (which Ron/Kitran had stored under the bar) and levitated up to Retsy's eye level.

Retsy's mouth fell open as she looked from the sparkly, lumpy fully-opaque papier-mâché frog to the transparent, levitating ghost frog. "There's two of you?!" she exclaimed.

Bart looked up, noticing the ghost frog for the first time, and screamed. "AHH! A GHOST! A GHOST!" He scurried away from the ghost as fast as he could, dropping the papier-mâché frog, which shattered on the floor. He scrambled to his feet and ran, not bothering to find the door; he slammed through the wall, leaving a Bart-shaped hole.

"Blast!" Ron cursed. "I forgot to renew the ghost-proofing spell on the cage! Now all of my hard work is ruined! Ruined!" Ron sprouted wings, transforming into his true daemon form (note: I'm too lazy to check if Kitran has wings, just roll with it), and flew up, slamming through the ceiling and leaving a Kitran-shaped hole.

Retsy raised her eyebrows at the frog ghost. "What was that about?" she asked.

The frog ghost shrugged.

This post has been edited by BreadWorldMercy453: 10 December 2014 - 09:17 PM

Alice glanced at the Bart-shaped hole in the wall. "No tolerance for other kinds, am I right?" he said to his ghost companion.

The ghost crossed its arms over its chest.

"Oh, shut up. Sure I respect you." Alice took a sip of the opaque yellow liquid in his mug. The ghost leaned over the table to peer into the mug. "Stop looking in there! It's just eggnog!"

The ghost stared blankly.

"Eggnog. EGGGGG-NOGGGGG. You know, half egg and half nog." Alice jammed his hat down over his eyebrows. "Yes, I'm sure that's how it's made! Stop questioning me!"

Behind the Tavern, Kitran brooded irritably, trying to come up with a new plan.

Then, it came to him.

He could arrange a Christmas party in the Tavern and poison all of the heroes then!

True, given that it was Christmas, it'd be cutting things a bit close, but, if no heroes showed up, he could always wait until next Christmas. None of them were likely to show up until then anyway...

Donning a new disguise, he re-entered the Tavern and called out, "Merry Christmas!"

(It was a perfect plan! Nobody would ever suspect Santa Claus of being an evil daemon in disguise!)

Frigid air blew in from the Bart- and Kitran-holes. Retsy shivered. She hadn't brought a cloak. She looked around the Tavern and noticed the unlit fireplace, with a bowl of matches on the mantel. She had never lit a match before, but how hard could it be?

Retsy went over to the fireplace, selected a match, and struck it against the stone hearth. Nothing happened. Retsy frowned, took a second match, and struck it with more force than the first one. It broke in half, but did not ignite. "Roar!" exclaimed Retsy in frustration. She proceeded to go through nearly the whole bowl of matches before succeeding in igniting one. Caught off guard by her success, and alarmed by how close the small flame was to her fingers, Retsy screamed and threw the match across the room. The match landed in the puddle of alcohol that had not yet been mopped up, and flames burst out. The flames began climbing up the leg of a wooden stool that was in the puddle.

"Ooh!" said Retsy, and ran over to sit near the fire. It was warmer by the fire, but still chilly.

Suddenly, the door opened and Santa Claus entered! "Merry Christmas!" he called out.

"SANTA!" shouted Retsy. "Did you bring me the new mittens I asked for? And the xylophone? And the pony?!"

Kitran internally grimaced when the girl ran over and began to pepper him with questions.

Fortunately, he saw a ready excuse to deal with this contingency.

"I'm afraid not," he sighed. "You see, you've been naughty this year."

For a moment, Retsy gaped in horror before managing to gasp out a strangled, "What?"

"Yes, you set the Tavern on fire," Kitran replied, pointing to blaze which was now beginning to spread to other furniture.

"That's not a bad thing," Retsy burst out. "It was cold in here!"

"Still, there is a city ordinance against it."

While the two argued, the spreading fire caught the edge of the bar. Alice grumbled and moved out its path.