Ambrosia Software Web Board: The Alraeican Tavern - part VI - Ambrosia Software Web Board

Rogan raised an eyebrow and looked at the figure in the dark corner.
"That's a little formal for an old friend, won't you say?" he chuckled.
Sisyphus narrowed his eyes, but his neutral expression broke into a happy smile when he recognised Rogan.
"Rogan my old friend, how good to see you!" he said as he approached Rogan with his arms stretched out. He gave him a friendly hug before he continued, "what have you been up to the last years you old weasel? How long is it since we last met?"
Rogan shook his head and smiled. "Far too long my friend, far too long"

Sisyphus was a skinny chap, dressed in a brown jacket. He closed the book lying on the table behind him and sat down on his chair. "make yourselves comfortable. Oh, I don't believe I've been introduced to your companion here..." he looked at Dusk.

"Oh, excuse me, Sir," Dusk said, "I go by the name of Dusk."
"Very well," Sisyphus replied, "you an outlander? I can't remember seeing your face around here before. But then again, I don't go out very often..."

[ooc] Sorry short post. I haven't got much time. Dusk: you will have to continue from here! [bic]



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Some people say war doesn't solve anything... perhaps they're using the wrong strategy...

Quote

[ooc] Gladly! [bic]

Dusk grinned "Yes, I am an outlander. I arrived in Cythera quite recently"
Sisyphus chuckled and pulled two seats from the side of the room, dragging them in front of his desk and sitting down for a moment, before rising again "A drink? It's been so long I've forgotten what you like Rogan"
Dusk looked at Rogan, who sighed in exasperation "I'd like water please" Rogan glared at Dusk, who was obviously expecting he order an alchohol of some description.
"Water for me to please" Sisyphus nodded, poring two large glasses up to the brim.
"Rogan, as nice as it is seeing you, I have a feeling you came for something? Something to do with your... uh... companion"
Rogan nodded. An awkward silence proceeded, both Dusk and Rogan unsure of who should speak.
Rogan said "Dusk needs some help onto his feet, and I thought..."
Sisyphus nodded and grinned again "Of course, do you have any property in mind? I've got sevral, but if you wanted to build your own house, well you can buy the land"
Rogan cleared his throat loudly, causing both heads to turn. "I don't think he wants to buy the land, my friend"
Sisyphus looked confused for a moment, catching on to Rogans meaning he said "Well, yes. Of course, it's the least I can do old friend" He smiled and turned back to Dusk.
"So, you want to build your own house?"
"Yes, that'd be best I think. Can I see the land?"
Sisyphus nodded, dissapearing into a back room. "You realise I can't ask him to change it over to a proper house after this. Where will you live in the mean time?"
"Rogan, I've lived in holes in the ground for the last twelve years of my life, I can live in a tent on my land, it'd be luxury"
Rogan nodded concent, just as Sisyphus reapeared bearing a large wooden box. The curling, yellow label anounced 'Land, Cademia'.
Rogan raised an eyebrow approvingly. The 'Cademia' must mean Sisyphus didn't work only in one city, very impressive.
"Ok, only a few for sale at the moment Dusk, here are the drawings" Sevral large sheets of paper where produced, each containing a smaller map in the corner showing the lands overall position in Cademia, and the main area of the paper covered with trees and various other features. There were only five drawings, two of which would amount to less then about four square metres in the middle of town, "Office blocks" Sisyphus assured him. Of the remaining three one was right next to the market, making for a very noisy location, this Dusk turned down as well.
The fourth sheet of paper looked more promising, a large block near the edge of the city. Several trees scattered the area and a largish rock stood proudly in the middle, if any house where to be built there the rock would have to be moved.
The last block Dusk fell in love with. Surrounded by cliffs the reasonably sized lump of land jutted a good five metres or so above the rest of Cademia. The original lay out drawing had obvioulsy been altered, a flight of narrow looking stairs winding up had been sketched in.
"The stairs are a recent addition to Roughs Point. A young man employed a group of masons to do the job. He must've run out of money, because he didn't buy it. I don't know where he is now"
Rogan had joined the two, leaning over Sisyphus's shoulder, peering eagerly at teh drawing. "That what you want Dusk? Builders aren't scarce, and with a little extra cash you could have your house built before winter"
Dusk smiled, scanning over the paper once more. "I can't wait. Let's go check it out". Sisyphus handed over the plans to Dusk and shook his hand "Congratulations on your excelent purchase sir".
Rogan snorted and the three left the small room, through the busy inner city.
Dusk was so happy, with Roughs Point his, friends. All he needed now was a job, and he was set.

[ooc] I realise Dusk getting Roughs Point was rather a bit god-sendish. If anyone has any objections, please tell me so I can change my location. [bic]


[edit] Fixed quote [/edit]
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Yesterday we bent our necks to emperors and kings. Today, we kneel only to truth. -Kahil Gibran

[This message has been edited by dusk (edited 11-04-2002).]

[ooc] Evil, slow Cythera boards. I know I should really let other people post, but I'm impatient and I've got time on my hands, sorry if you feel I'm sort of hogging the story here. [bic]

The three had pushed their way through the throng of the market, and now arrived at the edge of a field of vegetables. A man approached them with a weary face. A look of pain and terror, mixed with clearly premature wrinkles. He had the look of a man tired from fear and stress, one who, having witnessed something so terrible, didn't ever quite take it into the subconcious. As if the event stuck itself like a splinter in the waking mind, a constant reminder.
"What do you want?" Stentor leant on his small shovel, puffing slightly.
"We are coming to see Roughs Point, my friend here has brought it" Sisyphus nodded towards Dusk, then the strange lump of cliffs. Dusk was a bit thrown back, he and Sisyphus had only just met.
"Friend? We just met-"
"Any friend of Rogan is a friend of mine. Do you know what happened to the man who made the stairs Stentor?"
Stentor dropped his shovel carelessing aside, seating himself on a nearby stump. He didn't say a word, or smile, but the three felt drawn towards this anguished soul. Sisyphus and Rogan pulled a couple of logs from the neat stack of fire wood, forming a small circle. Dusk leant aginst the smooth rock walls of Roughs Point, savouring the knowledge that the land was now his, not paying attention to Stentor, not conciously anyway.
"Well?" Rogan prodded.
Stentor gritted his teeth, as if breaking through a self made barrier of some sort. "You won't laugh, promise?"
Dusk nodded, now curious.
"It's cursed" Stentor said. Rogan and Sisyphus both leaned back, some what relieved. But Dusk was more concerned. "Cursed? How do you know?"
Rogan and Sisyphus both ventured up the stairs, exploring the table top like surface.
Stentor continued "'T'was a cloudy over cast day when they finished them stairs. All thirteen men, working away, chipping and tinking with them lill' hammers. They got to the top at the last hour, night was nigh" Dusk moved closer, the way this man spoke fascinated him, the story more so.
"Thunder rumbled over sea, and all the air was calm, like the sea on a placid day. All quiet like. You could feel the power in the air. Why else ya think the Metics walled it off with cliffs? I says we should not tamper with it" Stentor grimaced, his face contorting, trying to retrieve memories deliberatly forgotten.
"What happen to the men?" Dusk leaned even closer, realising Stentor, story true or not, was telling it like a true professional.
"Gone. All of 'em. Jus' gone. I heard their screams. One got down, his eyes were all... gone. Like white of goats milk, and he jabbered and gabbered about things, minds hunting him. He was crazy. I don't want to know what happened, he only jus' survived the fall from atop. I helped him to the well, to fetch some water. But before the first drop could touch he's lips, all bloodied from biting, he died. Right there" Stentor pointed to a border up well about a hundred metres away "And screaming, all this screaming like the very devil himself was afta' 'em"
An short, sharp scream emitted from where Rogan and Sisyphus where exploring. Dusks heart was pounding, he leapt of the log, tipping it over noisily. Stentor didn't move, although none could see small tears welled in the corners of his eyes. Yet another event he would live with.
Dusk, his normal soldier like caution abadoned, bounded the stairs four at a time.
Rushing through the small growth under foot and avoiding the trees, blind with worry. The ex-soldier wipped out his Bio-Blade, slicing sevral trees in his way. He crashed into the clearing the scream has come from.
Sisyphus clutched his arm, blood trickling through his fingers. Rogan sat calmly to one side, rumaging through his pouch.
"Hullo, what's the matter Dusk? You look like you've seen a ghost"
Dusk turned off the deadly blade and smiled, eyes moist "You're ok! I thought that you'd... Never mind" Dusk smiled with enourmus relief as Rogan explained how Sisyphus had cut his arm on a particualy nasty variety of Cytherian thorn bush.
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Stentor was also relieved that no one was hurt, but terribly scared as well. "Roughs Point is cursed! I knew it all along, dun say I didn't warn ya".
"I'll keep in touch, Stentor, you'll know if anything goes wrong" Dusk assured him. Having quite the opposite effect then Dusk had hoped for, Stentor simply shook his head, overcome. He wouldn't speak, and didn't open his eyes once in the time the three combed over Roughs Point. He had seen to much, he knew to much, he could see no reason. Dusk knew this look just as well as any one else, better. The sort of look Stentor aquired would break a grown mans heart, sailor and soldier alike.

Dusk ran crouching, passing troops of all sorts, all suffering for one cause. Some grinned, others ignored him completly, some even offered him supplies. One man however stuck in his mind.
The man was lying on the trench floor, covered in mud and filth. His boots were missing, shirt torn and helmet lodged painfully behind his head. At first Dusk took him for dead, stepping on his outstretched hand carelessly. The man paid no attention to the cracking sound Dusks combat boots made as he broke the bone, and niether would've Dusk, but the man moaned, fingers twitching ever so slightly. In his undamaged arm the man clutched a handfull of silvery white tags. The personal identification of every soldier. Dusk bent down, mumering the numbers to himself, Oh-seven, Oh-eight, Oh-six. The man whimpered as if Dusk had cut him, pulling weakly at his own tag, Oh-five. The mans entire patrol had been killed. He was as good as dead anyway, Dusk left him, contineuing on. The man sobbed, a half choked cough. His mouth slowly fille with a fresh pool of blood from his own lips, and he drifted once more into his own personal hell.


[edit] Finished it at last. [/edit]

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Yesterday we bent our necks to emperors and kings. Today, we kneel only to truth. -Kahil Gibran



[This message has been edited by dusk (edited 11-06-2002).]

I walked cheerfully back into the taven, then I noticed a peice of stale fruit cake lying on the floor.
Then I saw Ferazel sitting in the courner, and I asked "can I have that peice of fruit cake?"
"Yeah sure I don't mind."
Then I left happy with my peice of stale fruit cake....
But then I heard Talos say, "Hey were is that pice of fruit cake?"
I looked around a bit then walked off whistling, looking very suspicious.

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were ever i go death will
come with me

[This message has been edited by Pippin 3 (edited 11-07-2002).]

Sephiroth walks into the tavern and orders a drink, he then drinks it and leaves.


*ooc*Im still here kind of*bic*

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- INSERT SIG HERE -

Moonshadow blinked, suddenly aware of her surroundeings again. Some time seemed to have passed. Been wandering again... She glanced at Avatara. There was something she'd been going to say, surely. Too much trouble trying to remember right now. She raised her staff, and disappeared in a flash of silver light. Whoever cared for the rule not to teleport into or out of the Tavern abruptly, anyway?

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Ich weiß wohl, ich bin nur ein Träumer, der vielleicht eines Morgens erwacht. Doch ich spotte dem Tag und ich folge dem Stern und ich lass mich entführen in die Nacht...
- Silk & Lute

Shi smiled brightly, clapping her hands. "That's the right attitude. Look," hovering close to Dhieva's ear, she lowered her voice to a conspiratory whisper, "I know they look odd, but... if you give them a chance, you'll see they're just fine." Then she straightened, and grinned at everyone. "Back to the Tavern, let's go!"

[edit]Nothing, really, and I could have put it into one post, but I didn't remember that.[/edit]
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Ich weiß wohl, ich bin nur ein Träumer, der vielleicht eines Morgens erwacht. Doch ich spotte dem Tag und ich folge dem Stern und ich lass mich entführen in die Nacht...
- Silk & Lute

[This message has been edited by Moonshadow (edited 11-08-2002).]

"...so then they decided to-hey! You're not listening, are you?" Avatara glared at Slayer, who just muttered something unintelligable as he nodded peacefully. Sighing in exhaustion, Avatara gets up and exits the tavern, heading West.

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"There is a time and a place for everything."

I was looking around in the forest for that thefty littel bugger Ramir gall, then I noticed him standing looking straight at me, I pulled my peice of moldy fruite cake from my pocket and amied, then whossh! The fruite cake went flying and I was saying "Yes, yes YES! HIT HIM SMACK BANG CENTER ."
He ran of so quickly and I yelled, "Take that you littel bugger ha!"
Then I left.

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Yummy! My moldy, crunchy, mouth-watering... *drools* frruuuiitt cakkeee...

ahh my eye it hit my eye i needed MAGIC... i chant a few words hold my hand over my eye then... as some experatments go....
99999 obloi fell on my head and buried me, i was dazed i tried it again and again, hmm a certain "Dusk" could do with this spell as a walked of clutching MY EYE!!!

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im a twinbladed one headed magic weilding people eater

I was standing in the taven when i saw Ramir gall slumped on the floor. So i ask Talos if he had any coffe beans, the anser was yes, so i sarted to feed poor littel Ramir gall,but then his eyes popped open and he went nuts. First he went to the biggest beer barrle and sliced a hole in it, then a couple of drunk partrons started to wonder over to drink i, but none of the drunks made it to the barrle, insted they fell to the floor sleeping or having lack of al-key-hol fits as Talos likes to call them. Then Ramir gall ran out the door laughing menterly. I gave up trying to stop him and said"o well so much for the coffe beans!"

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Yummy! My moldy, crunchy, mouth-watering... *drools* frruuuiitt cakkeee...

[This message has been edited by Pippin 3 (edited 11-17-2002).]

Avatara stretched, looking at the landscape around him. In the distance to the far east the murky lights of Cademia's street-torches could be seen through the dark misty fog. A chill wind blasted him in the face, causing him to quickly shield himself with his hood. All across the landscape, little white flurries were beginning to drift down creating an almost mystical scene. The air hung with silence, not a sound could be heard. The sky was covered with the dark-gray shapes of fluffy clouds, lit up somewhere over the ocean where the full moon was casting a silvery glow through the swirling blanket and causing a shimmering out on the distant water.

Avatara walked lightly through the frozen crystalline world, watching the scene unfold before him. A farmhouse to the south was lit up from within, a family huddling around a fire sharing memories and dreams. Evergreen trees on the fringes of the forest to the north already had snow nestled within the dark green needles. The river glimmered with a frozen layer of ice radiating a dim blue light from within. The streets of Cademia were empty, the snow providing a soft blanket over the worn passageways.

The tavern was cheerfully lit up with a warm yellow glow, and a gust of warmed air greeted Avatara as he entered. A quick glance showed few people were about, most were visiting whatever friends or family they had.

“Talos, hot cider please.” Avatara sat at the counter, sipping his drink slowly. He wondered silently, “Have I really been gone that long?”

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"There is a time and a place for everything."

[ooc]Ok this is my first time her so I desided to start on an Easy going Tavern, something I'm Familar with[ooc]

A cloaked figure stalked through the night hooded town, a sword clinking at his shin while pivoting on the belt around his waist. Many called him crook to weild a sword of the forgotten lords but he carried it at his side all the same. His eyes glowed like a cats in the night and even in the hours of dusk he saw every corner of every cranny.

The Tavern was alive, he dare not show his face to the towns people so before anything passed he quickly tore off the sleave of his shirt then tore it again down the middle so it was no longer a loop but a rag strip of fabric, he quickly wrapped it around his face leaving his eyes to be able to see.

The Bard moved closer to the bar, and peeked through the window to see a bar keep and people inside. he backward flipped onto the roof of the Tavern and made his way to sit and watch the landscape before him, it was not pleasent but not dispared either. He grinned under his hood and mask.

(ooc)This is my first post here, and I don't actually own Cythera, so any constructive criticism that can help me improve my posts is welcome. And I am sorry for any mistakes I make. Cheers. (bic)

The wind howled fiercely through the darkened trees, which seemed to reach out, trying to take hold of anything unsuspecting that passed by. Grey clouds covered the navy sea of night sky, hiding the moon’s noble face and the fiery stars from the world far below. Bitter rain flew from the sky, soaking the ground, causing mud to sweep across the land, save a few patches of waterlogged grass every fifty metres or so.

Through the night, a dark figure ran in and out of the trees, leaping over gnarled roots and ducking under twisted branches. Mud and water spattered everywhere that the figure set down its feet as it ran hard out as fast as it could; until, somewhere off in the distance, it made out a tiny glow. ‘Finally’ the figure thought gratefully.

Moments later, the figure was standing just outside of a tavern. Reaching up, the figure took hold of the hood that concealed its face and slowly drew it back, letting the rain fall onto its already drenched hair and pale face. It was a young woman, perhaps only 18 years of age. Her long auburn hair now flew freely in the wind and rain; her deep brown eyes flashed as lightning cracked in the distance; and the long forest green cloak that she wore bit angrily at her ankles. The young woman stood in awe of the tavern for a few moments, draining in the sight of it, before opening the door slightly and slipping through the gap.

Shivering, she walked over to whom she guessed was the owner of the tavern. ‘E-excuse me,’ she said softly, ‘but would you have somewhere for me to stay the night?’ The man turned around and looked at the cold bundle of cloth.
‘Yes ma’am, I’ll just be a moment,’ he said, not looking in the least surprised.

The young woman looked around the tavern while the tavern keeper busied himself. Feeling awkward, she found a small table in a dark corner and tried to blend in. Sniffing from the cold, she removed a small pendant from beneath her rain-soaked garments. The pendant was shaped like a clover and made from yellow and white gold intertwined together. She pressed down on the side of the pendant and it snapped open, revealing an old black and white picture of a young boy.


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"Oooh, this is pretty! Where'd you get it?!" A high, female voice suddenly exclaimed right next to her. "Oh, and who's that boy?"
The young woman looked around, startled. There was nobody there. "Who..where..?" She began.
"Oh, excuse me!" The person, wherever she was, gasped. "Silly me, I tend to forget - here I am!" A tiny face appeared in her range of vision, apparently head first, and she felt two equally tiny, warm hands on her forehead. Instinctively, the young woman reached for the top of her head, brushing a pair of large, insectoid wings just before the girl that had been sitting on her head launched, and landed in front of her on the table. "Hey, watch it!" The fairy-like creature exclaimed indignantly, hands on her hips. "These are fragile, yes! Look, don't touch." Her amethyst eyes flashed as if daring the newcomer to contradict her. Then, looking at the young woman again, her posture relaxed. For a few moments, she stood silently, thinking.
The winged girl was surely no more than foot tall, clad in most peculiar clothes. Her shirt was light green, with sleeves made from multicolored feathers, and her skirt, a darker shade of green, was cut to resemble a flower. The wavy, lavender hair was held back in a high ponytail, but a few strands had escaped from the braid, giving her a somewhat ruffled look. "You look lost." The girl concluded finally. "Well. I'm Shi'nayne, but you can call me Shi. I'm a Phaerie," she pronounced the word carefully, stressing the second syllable, "and don't let anyone tell you anything else! And you shouldn't be sitting here in this cold corner in those soaked clothes, you'll catch a cold! Colds are nasty. Not comfortable at all. Stupid weather." Shi ranted on, sounding a bit disgruntled. "And somebody let the fire burn down, sheesh. Where's that elf-man when we need his magic for once, huh? Nowhere in sight, and all the wood outside is wet because of the storms, and Talos isn't here and -" She stopped suddenly, peering at the stranger worriedly. "I'm not confusing you, am I? Brianna says I do that sometimes." She cocked her head sideways. "Of course, Brianna also says I don't know when to stop talking." She added, in a voice that clearly said: 'nonsense'. "But don't worry, we'll get you a fire. And dry clothes. I'm afraid mine won't fit, but surely Dheiva or Brianna have something fitting. I'll go ask them!" Shi smiled brightly and jumped up, her wings keeping her in the air, and - "Oh! What's your name, anyway?"

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Jeder Irrtum hat drei Stufen: Auf der Ersten wird er ins Leben gerufen, auf der Zweiten will man ihn nicht eingestehen, auf der Dritten macht nichts ihn ungeschehen.

The young woman watched as the phaerie flittered about in front of her. Still holding the pendant and feeling rather awkward, she answered Shi. 'I go by the name of Nixus,' she said slowly. Nixus sat staring at Shi for a moment not realising what she was doing. Shi looked up at Nixus a little confused.
'What ya staring at?' she asked in her high voice.
Nixus shook her head, blinking rapidly for a moment. ‘Oh, please forgive me,’ she said politely. ‘It is just that I have never seen a phaerie before…Most of the magic in my home has all but disappeared. My people are a dieing race.’
‘Oh, what people is that?’ Shi asked, seeming rather interested.
‘Well, we are almost the same as humans, but we are deeply knowledged in the ways of black and white magic. I guess we are close to the mages of this land. My home used to be green and beautiful, and full of magic…But, our land has become flat and lifeless, and our people have been forced to live in tiny colonies under the earth. I left for Cythera hoping to find a new life…but it meant leaving behind my old one; not that I had much to live for there anyway.’
‘And the boy in the picture, he was part of your old life?’ Shi asked curiously.
Nixus paused for a moment, looking at the swirl of yellow and white gold of the clover pendant. ‘He was my younger brother, Salem. But, he died a very long time ago.’ The young woman fell silent.

Shi looked down for a moment, then back up to Nixus. ‘I am sorry dear, I didn’t mean to upset you so,’ she said mournfully.
Nixus looked down at Shi. ‘No, you have nothing to be sorry for; I am fine. It is just that…well this picture of Salem is the only memory of my family that I have. My parents died in the war between the races of my land, and Salem shortly before that. So I have had to fend for myself most of my life.’
‘Poor dear,’ Shi said sympathetically. ‘Well not to worry, we’ll get you all fixed up. I’ll organise to get you something dry to wear and a little something to eat.’
Nixus smiled warmly, despite her pale clammy skin that screamed how cold she was. ‘Thankyou kindly.’ She watched as the little phaerie flew off into the crowd.


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Avatara walked down the stairs in the back and into the main room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He took a quick glance around, noticed the room contained only a few people at this time of the morning, including a strange visitor in the corner that Shi was probably delighted to have. The fire had burnt out, certain people had neglected to keep it going during the night. Talos (the owner) was nowhere to be seen, but he was awake, and probably busy doing something somewhere.

Shivering from the cold, Avatara knelt by the fireplace and with a simple spell, sent several wet logs bursting into a cozy flame. With the fire burning in full, and the room beginning to heat up, Avatara drearily walked over to the strange woman's table.

"Can I help you?" he asked, wondering if perhaps she was thirsty.

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"What we do not know, we cannot begin to understand."

A tall, lanky man in a big, wide-brimmed hat and carrying a cane limped into the tavern out of the weather. After shaking the snow off his hat and boots, he proceeded to the bar. He deposited a few oboloi on the counter and asked the barkeep for "somethin' strong and keep 'em coming." After receiving a small glass and a bottle, he proceeded to drown his woes in rivers of whiskey. The man was a prime example of a person who was down and out. His worn, muddy boots and hard hands showed he was a man who had worked long and hard for anything he had. He had not shaven recently and had a scar on his upper lip like he'd been in a fight.

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I have run out of quotes for my signature. Please give me suggestions at bigjoe_512@yahoo.com

Nixus looked up at the young man, slightly startled from his sudden appearance. ‘Oh, I am quite alright, thankyou sir,’ she said forcing herself to smile. ‘The phaerie woman, Shi, has already offered me her assistance.’
‘Ah, I thought she may have,’ the man said. ‘You are not from around here, are you? I do not recognise you.’
The young woman looked out the dust-clouded window, shaking her head, and then back to the young man. ‘Nay, I am not of these lands. I am mage blooded from a place far from here; Esper Salam. Although, I wouldn’t call myself anything of a mage…’ The young woman’s last few words ended bitterly.
‘Why would you not call yourself a mage if you are, as you say, “mage blooded”?’ the man asked, sounding slightly confused.
Nixus sighed slightly. ‘I am a mage in blood, but I cannot perform even some of the simplest of spells,’ she explained. ‘I have almost no magic coursing through my veins at all. I have had to make up for what I lack in magic ability by training hard in physical combat skills.’

There was a short and slightly awkward pause, which was finally broken by the young man’s questioning again. ‘If you are trained in combat, why then did you not stay in your land and help your people?’
Nixus smiled bitterly. ‘How would I survive in my land? Surely I could live alone, surviving off the land; but in war I am of no use to anyone, whether I have skill enough or not. I am hated by all races save the mages; and the mages look down at me as some sort of runt. I was hoping to find my place in the world here in Cythera, but I don’t seem to fit into the puzzle anywhere that I go.’
The young man looked solemnly into Nixus’ eyes. ‘Do not be so harsh upon yourself. Perhaps it is not that people aren’t accepting you, but you do not wish to accept them.’
Nixus smiled slightly. ‘I…I guess you could be right. Perhaps it is just my problem…’

The young man stood and looked down at Nixus, who was now looking out the window again. ‘Come now, you must be cold sitting alone in this dark corner. Come over to the fire and warm yourself; I suppose something is being done about your sopping wet clothes?’
‘I am sorry,’ Nixus said. ‘I have not been of much company to anyone. Thankyou, yes, Shi has taken care of my dry clothes; where ever she has flown off to. But I am fine here by the window; I should not move or Shi may not be able to find me again.’
‘Well, if you are sure…’ the man said slowly. ‘Oh, I do not believe that I caught your name.’
Smiling slightly warmer than before, Nixus held out her hand. ‘It’s Nixus.’
Smiling back, the young man took Nixus’ hand, shaking it welcomingly. ‘Nice to meet you Nixus; I am Avatara.’


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[ooc] Ok, I'm not sure what happens when a TS doesn't work out, like mine did... I'll presume I can come on into the tavern, I wanna be part of the action again! [bic]

Dusk made his entrance into the tavern and looked worridly -as always- at the drunk who had been carefully positioned behind the door for seemingly no exact reason, but had all the same, received the full force of the opening door square on. Dusk decided that the drunk patron on the floor knew what he was doing, and left him to it, heading towards the wide counter.
Dusk had been overseeing the construction of his house, or the beginnings there of. First a small section of trees had to be cleared from the centre of Roughs Point; he had borrowed an axe from Rogan and had been hard at work all morning, now possessing a pile of fire wood big enough to make even the black smith jealous. That afternoon was the painful search for builders and an even more painful quote for the cost of such an establishment. Dusk was starting to think he would have to continue living in a trench for the rest of his life, as that was all he could afford unless he found a job soon.
After convincing several drunk patrons that he was not the Third Tyrant, and no he actually didn't have any money, Dusk hoped comfortbaly onto a hard bar stool.
Talos had still not appeared, but Dusk knew now what the delicious ale was called that he had so shortly ago on his first visit to the bar. It was little over a moon ago, but Dusk remembered it as if it had happened that very morning. The stumbling drunks, the friendly banter of one-upping fishermen and tales of treasure and glory.
It wasn't much different tonight either, a lot quiter admittedly, but the atmosphere was still that of companionship and even a sense of nostalgia. Dusk fancied for a fleeting moment that he could spend the rest of his days in the Tavern, then shook his head. He had agreed with the builders and he wasn't about to drop out of the deal, no matter how much Stentor scared him.

Dusk grimaced as his oboli pouch become two obols lighter. He was by no means a rich man, being slightly poorer then Alarics initial 300 obols in gold form, but the ale was refreshingly and light. It fought off with little difficulty Dusks irregular sleep, and he suddenly become much more aware of his surroundings. In the corner sat a young lady he had never seen before. Normally Dusk would have just passed this off, but her clothes were soaked with rain and of a make Dusk knew wasn't Cytherian. He remembered his first time in the Tavern, how confused he had been, and how the friendly advice Talos had given cheered his life no end. He began yet another trek towards the newcomer, then checked himself, holding his now empty glass to his face; squinting at his reflection.
He was unshaven, a light stubble appearing around his mouth, lips cracked and dry from a day in the sun. He realised he still had his helmet on, and removed it hurridly, not wanting to look to out of place. Dusk readjusted his reflection and made a futile attempt to straighten his wild hair. He looked terrible, like something you'd expect to find lying in a back alley with a dagger in his back, covered in grimy mud and flecks of blood. Dusk picuted himself in this postition, reaching superstiously to the small of his back, searching for the phantom murder weapon. Upon finding none, he decided he could do nothing more to sharpen his appearance and walked loudly over to the lady, not wanting to startle her.

Nixus looked up for the approaching footsteps- they were too heavy to be Avatara's. The man that sat now at her table did indeed look very corpselike, scratches, cuts and stuble complementing his wild hair.
He held out his helmet in an odd kind of courtsy and bobbed his head, offering his hand. Nixus shook it, baffled. No one was the same; so far she'd met a flying Pharaie in a tiny outfit, a big man in a nice clean tunic and now this strange person. His coat was an odd, hard to look at colour that seemed to blend ever so slightly with the chair he sat on, his boots were dirty but had the look of invincibility, contructed not of leather or even gator swamp hide. Dusk grinned and released his strong grip
"I'm Dusk, I get the feeling you're new here, so am I. What name do you go by?" the man grinned again, giving himself a slightly devilish look. Nixus replied, perplexed by this forthcoming welcome.
"I'm Nixus." the lady said, smiling politly back.

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Yesterday we bent our necks to emperors and kings. Today, we kneel only to truth. -Kahil Gibran

[ooc] Sure, just join back in, dusk. Oh, and.. Avatara (the character) may be many things, but not young. Though he doesn't appear to be old. Check the character info topic. [bic]

Not long after that, Shi came flying back to the table. "Ahh, you're still here," she said happily, addressing Nixus. "And who's that with - Dusk!" Shi clapped cheerfully. Dusk grinned broadly. "You look like a nightmare!" The Phaerie continued.
Dusk's grin faded to a rueful smile. "I suppose so. But what can you expect, after I spent all that time outside?"
"Not much." Shi nodded. "Stupid weather. Well, I'd invite you to some hot soup, but, you see, the fire burned down and- the fire! It's burning again!"
"Yes," Nixus said, somewhat timidly, "A -"
"So did that elf-man finally wake up, yes?" Shi interrupted.
"Well, no.. I mean, there was a man, and he lit the fire, but he was human, you see, and-"
"Well, don't let yourself be fooled. He may look like a human, but he's a..." Shi paused, raising her hand dramatically in the air.
"A what?" A voice asked from behind, making Shi turn over in the air.
"Like I have to tell you, you know very well what you are."
"No, I don't." Avatara replied, doing his best to look innocent, while placing two steaming cups on the table. "Enlighten me."
"Mmph, you don't fool me. Make yourself useful!" Shi demanded. Nixus giggled, despite herself. "Get that poor girl something warm to eat. Nixus, come over to the fire, you'll freeze here." Shi flitted over to land on the young woman's shoulder. Leaning close to her ear, she whispered, conspiratorially: "I'll tell you later." Raising her voice again she added, brightly. "Oh! You don't mind this, do you?"

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Jeder Irrtum hat drei Stufen: Auf der Ersten wird er ins Leben gerufen, auf der Zweiten will man ihn nicht eingestehen, auf der Dritten macht nichts ihn ungeschehen.

Josephus, the man at the bar wearing the big hat, overheard the excitement surrounding the visitor in the corner. How long it had been since he had heard laughter! He had been isolated from other people for so long, he had almost forgotten how to talk. The laughter brought back memories out of his past. His beautiful titan ranch in the mountains, his father teaching him how to ride one of the beasts as a boy, his life of hard but happy labor raising the titans from the time they hatched. But the two memories that came back most vividly were the bubbling laughter of his fiancé, Charis, and the cruel, hard laughter of the man who had brought about not only the destruction of his ranch, but the destruction of his beloved.
Oh, how he wished for revenge upon the scoundrel that had taken everything from him! The cruel man had wanted to buy all of his hundred-titan herd, and had brought hundereds of oboloi in several large chests for the transaction. The stranger had suddenly appeared at the ranch house door. But Joe hadn't trusted the man, due to his "shifty eyes" and the strange, poison-green amulet he wore around his neck. The amulet was what really threw Joe; it seemed to exude evil from it's surface. Joe had raised the titans from hatching, and he wasn't about to sell them to a man he didn't trust. He knew that some people ate wild titans, but he had never considered his titans as a food source, instead training them as work animals, for riding or pulling wagons. Though the man assured him that the titans were not going to be eaten, Joe asked the man to leave. The man became quite angry when Joe continued to refuse to sell, and to avoid trouble, Joe shut the ranch house door in the man's face. As the man walked away defeated, he made sure to call out, "You will rue this day, Josephus!"
Several weeks later, Charis had come over to discuss the plans for their wedding the next month. Suddenly, they heard a shout come from the mountain to the east of the ranch house. The man with the amulet had gathered two score of ruffians to come and take the titans! Half attacked the barns and fences, leaving a full score to attack the ranch house. Joe and Charis were able to hold them off for a while with slings and arrows, but soon their projectiles started to run low. Joe ran down to the cellar to fetch some of his father's old army equipment. While he was below, the ruffians breached the door. Charis found a big meat cleaver and a chair and continued to be quite successful at dispatching the ruffians. But in order to fight the ruffians inside the house, she was forced to turn her back on the open window which she had been firing arrows through earlier. An arrow from outside sank deep in her back below the shoulder blade, puncturing her lung. She died almost instantly. Joe arose from the cellar just in time to see the arrow strike his beloved. With an animal-like cry of pain and rage, he threw himself at the ruffians inside the house, ignoring everything, including the crushing mace blow one ruffian gave to his leg. Joe killed eleven men that day in his rage and grief, only stopping when his broken leg prohibited him from continuing to chase the remaining ruffians. The man with the amulet escaped with all of the titans and most of his ruffian band backing him up. As the man rode away on a titan, Joe could hear his maniacal laughter, a sound which he would never forget. Joe rushed to the body of his fiance as soon as the ruffians left, dragging her out of the house, which had caught fire in the battle. He took the arrow from her back and looked at it. It had green feathers and a green stone head, the same poison-green stone that the stranger's amulet had been made of. It also had odd runes running the length of the shaft: it was obviously a magic arrow, and it had the same evil aura about it that the amulet had possessed. He took the body of his beloved to the top of a hill overlooking the meadow where the titans used to run. After saying a few words he buried her there, under an oak tree. From th hill, Joe surveyed the damage to his ranch, his boyhood home. Two of the three barns on the place had been burned down, and the last one was collapsing where a scared titan had crashed through a load-bearing wall. The thatch roof of the ranch house had burned and collapsed, and the fences had been knocked down in several places. He stayed on the hill for two days and nights next to the grave of his betrothed, not eating or sleeping, just quietly mourning.
He looked down the hill the third morning and saw a few titans had returned to the meadow. They had either evaded capture in the attack, or had escaped from the thieves and had wandered back home. Joe went down to them and found that one was his trusty old steed Green Giant. After going down to the spring and quenching his thirst, and eating some of the berries that grew on the banks of the creek, he washed and bound his injured leg, which he hadn't tended while up on the hill. He then mounted Green Giant and proceeded to round up his remaining herd for travel. Joe didn't know where he was going to go, but he knew there was nothing left for him here.
And now he was in town with seven titans in his care, and in a tavern without a clue as to be sociable with the other patrons present. He moved over to the fire, where it appeared that the other people were gathering. He stood there for a minute, slowly drinking from the bottle he had brought with him from the bar. A couple of the other patrons noticed him, but let him speak up first.
"Greetings, all," he said to the group.
"Oh, hi, stranger, didn't notice you over there. I'm Dusk. What's your name?" a dark, tough warrior asked.
"I'm Josephus, but people call me Joe," he replied.
"Well, Joe, you're welcome here in the tavern," said another man who had an aura of magic around him. "I go by Avatara."
"And I'm Nixus, Joe. Pleased to meet you," said the girl who was evidently the other newcomer. Joe noticed a pendant sitting on the table in front of the girl. The amulet was shaped exactly like the amulet of the man who destroyed him, only his was made of silver and a poison-green stone and hers was wrought of yellow and white gold. Her amulet looked as wholesome as the thief's amulet looked corrupt. "That's an interesting pendant you have there, ma'am. I've seen one like it before. Would you mind if I asked where it came from?"

<OOC> Sorry for such a long post, but I was worried that no one would understand him if I didn't include his history. This is actually a character I developed in a story I wrote for school. The story wasn't that good, but I liked the character, so I modified him a little (horses to titans) and plugged him in this story. If it's too long, tell me and I can edit it. </OOC>


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I have run out of quotes for my signature. Please give me suggestions at bigjoe_512@yahoo.com

<edited for grammar and clarity>

[This message has been edited by Big Joe (edited 04-21-2003).]

The young woman looked around at the crowd that she had somehow managed to attract. Blushing slightly from all of the attention, she reached out and took the clover-shaped pendant from the table and fastened it around her neck once again. Then looking politely back up at the man who had most recently spoken to her, she answered timidly. ‘It was a gift from someone I knew a very long time ago; an elf warrior named Zail.’ Her voice trailed off slightly, but she picked it up as best she could. ‘Zail helped to teach me to use melee weaponry. But, as an old elven tradition, he passed into the after lands when I was fifteen.’
‘Ah, you are elvish then?’ Joe asked curiously.
Nixus shook her head slowly. ‘I met Zail when I was thirteen; I was a lone travelling mage…’
‘You were only thirteen? Why were you not with your family?’ Joe asked.
Seeing that Nixus was tired and not much in the mood for explaining herself again and again, Avatara answered Joe’s question. ‘Her parents died when she was very young; and as a mage to have no magic, no others would accept her.’

After a short pause, Nixus raised herself from the little table in the corner, not realising that Shi was still sitting upon her shoulder. The little phaerie slipped slightly but clung tightly to Nixus’ slowly drying, rain soaked cloak. ‘Oh, forgive me Shi; I had forgotten that you were still there; you are so light.’
Shi smiled, slightly shaken. ‘No worries.’
Nixus looked around at the crowd, one person at a time. ‘Please excuse me; I do not wish to appear rude, but it is becoming slightly too crowded for me. I do hope that no one minds my leaving. It was a pleasure to meet all of you.’ Smiling warmly, Nixus reached out and shook hands with those around her, then, as Shi flitted from the young woman’s shoulder, Nixus walked over to the tavern door. She opened it and, realising that the weather outside was still heavy and troublesome, walked out, closing the door behind her.
‘Don’t go out there!’ Shi called. ‘You’re already all wet!’ But Nixus did not hear. The young woman walked slowly to the corner of the tavern where the roof offered a small amount of shelter, and sat with her back pressed against the wall.

Breathing long and heavily, Nixus rubbed her blurry eyes. She reached inside her cloak and pulled out an old oak pipe. Raising the pipe to her blood red lips, the young woman blew into it, making it sing out. The song that came from the pipe was soft and eerily sad. Nixus closed her eyes and let herself be consumed by the melody of the slow music.


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OOC ohhh finerly the tavern is back life in the web bords again BIC

Pippin looked at morfing thing shimmering in front of her.
Pippin grabbed it out of the air and it settled on her hand,she felt herself growing stonger.
"How much for a full body suit of this stuff" Pippin asked the trader,
"mmmmmmmm fivehundred obli".
"Wow expensive but never the less I'd take it".
After she had finish adjusting her suit she made her way over to the waiting asassin.
"Right when do I began" asked Pippin.......

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Yummy! My moldy, crunchy, mouth-watering... *drools* frruuuiitt cakkeee...

{ooc}Sorry everyone, but I have a tendency of being impatient when it comes to webboards and other such things.{bic}

Nixus continued to play the soft pipe music, her eyes still closed; and so, she could not hear the faint footsteps over the melody, or see the cloaked figure coming ever closer. The figure stopped perhaps two or three feet away from Nixus, and reached inside its garments to retrieve a long double edged knife. The knife sung bitterly as it was taken from the sheathe that it had rested in; its blade glinted from the light coming out of the tavern windows. The figure knelt down, slowly moving the knife up to Nixus’ throat. When the knife was barely twenty centimetres away from Nixus, the young woman’s eyes snapped open, and before the figure could do anything, she’d dropped her pipe and reached up to take hold of the figure’s white, clammy wrist.

The figure yelped in surprise. Nixus’ eyes flashed in her fury at the sight of the figure. ‘So, you finally caught up, Francis,’ she said coldly. ‘I was beginning to wonder if you’d perished in your infernal chace; but I see that this is not true.’
The rough looking young man, Francis, grinned tauntingly. ‘We can’t all have everything we want, now can we?’ he asked in a tone as cold and unwelcome as Nixus’.
‘Listen; these people do not need you here disturbing their peace. Leave this place now.’ Nixus demanded.
Francis laughed sarcastically. ‘I have a job to finish; you.’
Still holding Francis’ wrist (which Francis seemed to have forgotten about), Nixus threw him backward a short way, jumping to her feet at the same time. She discarded her almost dry cloak with one hand, reaching to the hilt of her long sword with her other hand. The blade sung gleefully as Nixus drew it. ‘Leave Francis! Or I will cut you down where you stand!’

Francis threw his own rain-soaked cloak to the mud as well. The wind whistled through his short, scruffy brown hair, his deep blue eyes glinted with victory from the almost finished task, his white teeth shone as his dry, cracked lips were still curled into an evil grin.
He flung the knife to the ground, which landed with the blade wedged in the soft earth, his cloak caught between the handle and the muddy land. He held his hands toward Nixus and whispered the words ‘Lova poldora’. An orange light began to grow from Francis’ hands.
Nixus thrust her sword into the earth and held her own hands up toward the young mage. ‘Lova termara en’ templa!’ she cried. The light that had begun to glow almost completely solid in Francis’ hands faded and vanished. ‘I may not be as fine as you are at it, but I did learn to speak to the ancients as well!’ Nixus said savagely.

The young woman took hold of her sword and leapt forward at Francis, dragging the sword up toward his shock-stricken face. Francis stumbled backward out of Nixus’ way, slipping in the mud and falling with his hands reached behind him to break his fall. But before Nixus had a chance to strike Francis, the mage rolled to the side of where he’d fallen and leapt to his feet. ‘Tyara harwar!’ he cried.
This time, there was no light; Nixus’ hands became weak and a pain began to grow inside of her. She sunk to her knees, letting one hand slip from the sword’s hilt (the end of who’s blade now rested in the soaking earth) and over her stomach. She choked for a moment, but when she looked up at Francis, her voice was strong. ‘Francis! There is no reasoning in your quest to destroy me; and I will not fall to you!’

Francis looked hatefully down at Nixus. ‘Of course there is reason in my quest. You defy the teachings and go against all we live for, you pathetic excuse for a mage, and you will recompense for this.’

Struggling and still holding her stomach, Nixus began to raise herself from the muddy ground. ‘Do not compare me with your kind, Francis Henneth!’ she cried, a note of pride in her voice. ‘I am no mage; and I am proud to defy the teachings! The high mages made the teachings come about, and the teachings brought about our slavery to the humans, all to satisfy their own greed; there are no real teachings! I am disgraced to call myself a mage, a descendant of the high mages.’

‘You speak almost as though you know what you’re talking about, Nixus. Perhaps you are not as foolhardy as I thought you were…Yet I do not agree with you in the slightest; and my task still stands true. You will find your end, and it will be with me. I will be seeing you again, Nixus; but I will not leave you standing next time.’

Francis turned and retrieved his long knife and cloak from the soaking terrain. Then turning his back upon Nixus, he began to walk slowly through the rain toward the forest once again. Nixus stood and watched as the mage was slowly engulfed in the black of the night. She shivered, now cold and wet once again. ‘I do not doubt that we will see each other again, Francis.’ Nixus said to herself under her breath. ‘But my end does not lie with you. Perhaps you will one day learn to understand my ways.’ She turned and wandered back to her cloak, which lay soaked with rain and mud. After retrieving it, she walked back to the tavern door and pressed her palms flat against it, resting her head upon the old wood. ‘I never should have led that mage here;’ she thought, ‘the last thing that these people will want is more trouble. I must keep this to myself as much as is possible.’ The young woman turned and let her back rest against the door. She slid down it until she rested upon the small patch of dry earth at the doorstep, her head rested in her knees, which she held close to her body.

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