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Post by Trailfoot on Apr 7, 2009 17:18:41 GMT -8
The sun begins its long climb toward the sky's peak in the Imperial City, the morning's fog slowly departing the streets. A new day has dawned.
Somehow, in spite of how late he was up, the Azure Minstrel sits again in the common room of the Empress's Pride, this time singing. For all that he is mediocre with a flute and professes to be bad with the lyre, the man can sing, and sing well, as at the moment he's singing the Common translation of an old Tu'ron'o love song. His daughter, the brown-haired girl, is babysitting the children of two refugees - one human, the other apparently a half-orc - off to the side of the room.
Serina hums quietly as she cleans glasses, preparing the tavern for the morning.
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Post by Nephallim on Apr 7, 2009 17:41:07 GMT -8
The Wanderer
The Deva who calls himself 'Desmond Jericho' pulls his trousers on quietly, careful not to wake the pale woman sleeping beside him. Somehow, he feels his master would approve. It wasn't that the Deva had anything to keep hidden from the woman, at least not at the moment, but the simple act of hiding itself. With the last of his well oiled plate and mail slipped on, the Deva steps into the hallway and down the stairs to the Empress' Pride's common room. He slips Serina a handful of silvers and bids her to have a white rose and a glass of wine sent up to the pale woman's room. "No message, just the flower and drink," he specifies, "She'll know who its from."
With the exchange of money complete, the Deva takes a seat at the bar, setting his sailcloth cloak, kite shield, and longsword at his feat, waiting for his companion, 'Roland.' Supposedly, they have business to attend to this morning.
The Spellsword
The scruffy half-elf enters the inn and claims his favorite seat by the fire, his ever-present cinnamon-scented cigar clenched in his teeth. He flags down a barwench and orders breakfast: a large bowl of grits, eggs over easy, sausage, and a tall cup of black coffee. He sets his tarnished sword under the table inconspicuously and scans the inn for conversation, ears open for news of the slavers. (Streetwise +8).
The Scalechanger
The rat scurries into the common room, sniffing for scraps. Upon aquiring a suitable morsel, he scurries under a bench and watches the Azure Minstrel sing, ears twitching slightly.
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Post by Myridd2 on Apr 7, 2009 17:41:43 GMT -8
The Pale Songtress:
Carmella yawns, and pulls the covers over her head as the sunlight comes through her window. She curses silently to herself, than sits up slowly. She looks around her room, at her clothes strewn about, and she smiles, a genuinely warm smile... Too bad no one was there to see it.
The bed next to her was empty, though only by an hour or so. Carmella places a hand on the side of the bed Desmond had slept and she purrs deep in her throat. After a long moment, she kicks off the covers and stands.
After washing, she dresses in a victorian gown or deep crimson and gold. After dressing, she hears a chittering coming from her purse.
"Josef!" Carmella says, her voice filled with love. She walks over to the purse and pulls out something that resembles a beetle of a coppery rust color with long feelers that is the size of a small kitten. She brings Josef up to her face and smiles.
"Oh, my love! I have your food right here." She proffers two old rusty keys to him as she sets him upon her wooden desk. The little rust monster munches quietly.
"Be a good little boy, I'll be back after I get some breakfast.." Josef nuzzels her hand, and than Carmella hears a knock on her door.
She raises a fair brow, and opens the door to see the messenger with the glass of wine and a single white rose. She accepts them both with a gracious smile.
She takes a drink of the wine, and than holds the white rose to her nose.
"Mmm.. Desmond Jericho..." She says to herself thoughtfully before she leaves her room and heads downstairs, still holding the rose and sipping her wine.
The Dragon Kissed:
Ezekial is sitting at a small table, not in a corner, finishing his breakfast of eggs and sausage. He sighs softly, thinking of the day ahead of him.
The two thugs from the night before were sitting across from him at his table, since he ordered them inside. He looks about and notices Quel.
Immediately, he is off his chair and heading in Quel's direction.
"Quel?" Ezekial asks. "I have some information you might like.. And I am in need of your aide.."
The Redscale Crusader:
Meepo stretched, and yawns widely as she wakes up. She immediately sits up and looks around the room for Scalechanger.
Upon not seeing the rat, but the huge hole that is now in the mattress, Meepo lets out a loud laugh.
"Mes shoulds have knowns.." She gathers her things, and than heads downstairs to return the room key.
((I was logged out in the middle of typing this... sorry..))
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Post by Nephallim on Apr 7, 2009 17:56:58 GMT -8
The Wanderer
The Deva sits at the bar, a tea cup cradled carefully in his mailed hands. His cream-colored eyes are closed and his expression serene as he listen's to the Azure singer.
The Spellsword
Quel looks up at the little man as his coffee arrives, "Do tell," He says as he removes his cigar from his teeth to sip his joe, "This have anything to do with the kobold slavers?"
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Post by Myridd on Apr 7, 2009 18:12:02 GMT -8
The Dragon Kissed:
Zeke nods empathically as he pulls himself into a chair near Quel. "I caught up with the thugs that tried to ambush me last night. " He motions to the table he had just left the two thugs. "They promised to give me some good information if I tried to rescue the halfling's sister."
Zeke motioned to the barwench, and orders coffee as well. "I don't know how you feel about doing charitable work, but I can offer you a share of what we find down there. In the sewers."
The Redscale Crusader:
Meepo leaps off the last step, and quickly scurries to a corner table, pulling a cloak over her head and face. She orders some fruit from a passing barwench, and she looks around for Scalechanger.
The Pale Songtress:
Carmella makes it to the bottom of the stairs, where she pauses momentarily to look around. She smiles slyly when she notices Desmond.
She walks past the serene Deva, tracing the back of his neck slightly with the soft petals of the white rose as she passes. Carmella settles herself on a stool close to him, and orders a bowl of strawberries and cream for breakfast.
She is careful not to bother Desmond too much, since he seems to be enjoying the ministral's singing.
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Post by Nephallim on Apr 7, 2009 18:19:47 GMT -8
The Spellsword
Quel grins slightly, clenching the cigar back between his teeth, "No," He says, "I turn into a horrible monster whenever I do anything charitable." He chuckles to himself, "But I'll gladly take a share of whatever bounty the guard's put on the slavers."
The Wanderer
The Deva smiles slightly as the pale lady passes by. His eyes remain closed as he takes a slow sip of his tea, the smell of peaches wafting up from the cup.
The Scalechanger
The rat scurries across the common room, huddling under the kobold's chair. "Looking for thomeone?" It squeaks.
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Post by Myridd on Apr 7, 2009 18:28:36 GMT -8
The Redscaled Avenger:
Meepo crouches down, and looks under her chair at the rat. She grins broadly. "Mes was lookings for someones to hunt 'hem whitescales with. "fter wes has a meatys breaksfasts, o'course!"
The Dragon Kissed:
Ezekial grins slightly, and looks visibly relieved. "Good.." He looks over at Ned and Pierre and waves them over to Quel's table. "Tell me what you know. We need all of the information you have, if you want us to save your sister."
Ezekial looks serious and determined as he waits for the information.
The Pale Songtress:
Carmella a strawberry, and dips it in cream before bringing it to her lips and taking a slow bite. She catches a wift of the smell of peaches, and she smiles.
"When do you have to go to work with Roland?" She asks, not turning to look at him, just concentrating on her strawberries.
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Post by Nephallim on Apr 7, 2009 18:38:26 GMT -8
The Wanderer
The Deva lowers the cup, resting his mailed wrists against the bar. For an instant he is perfectly still, save for the barest ripple in his steaming tea. Slowly, his small, delicate wings stretch open and a small shudder goes through the cream-and-black-skinned templar as he relaxes.
"Roland sets his own schedule," the Deva says slowly as he opens his eyes, "Which as accident happens defines my own."
The tea cup seems to rotate at its own will as the Deva shifts it, "He keeps the details of his meetings delightfully vague."
The Spellsword
Quel blows a smokering in the general direction of the barwench as she heads to his table with his food.
"I'm all ears," He says before taking another sip of coffee.
The Scalechanger
The rat says nothing as it stands on its haunches and gazes at the various boots of the inn's patrons.
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Post by Trailfoot on Apr 7, 2009 18:49:16 GMT -8
The Ruffians
Pierre is the first to speak. "I managed to get a map of the city... it doesn't show the sewers, but they mostly run under the streets, at least in the Old City and the Middle City." He pulls out the old map, unfolding it, taking a graphite stick to draw lines. "The Whitescales control this area here..." He marks it down - a huge chunk of the Old City. "There. The Redscales mostly control the area around the eastern part of the Middle City..." He marks that off as well. "The Guard maintains an area around the Palace, Library, and Temple, even in the sewers, to keep the Imperial officials safe..." He marks those down. "There's also a refugee camp in the sewers, there..." He marks it. "They're pretty hardened... they've been fighting the Whitescales for quite a while. That's where Ned, Abigail, and I are living."
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Post by Nephallim on Apr 8, 2009 9:42:31 GMT -8
The Spellsword
Quel nods as he examines the map. "I say we start our investigation here," he gestures to a street nearby the guards' bastion in the sewers, "If things get too rough we can fall back to safe ground easily enough."
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Post by Shiningwolf on Apr 8, 2009 9:44:34 GMT -8
The Unlucky(diplomat) The blue skinned deva enters the inn, his robes wrapped around him as if for warmth. As the deva then searches the room, his eyes spy out his fellow deva, walks in his direction. "Well, Desmond, it seems our meeting has been postponed. As it stands, it looks like you will have a day or two for your own pleasure."
The Glove The LeShay walks the streets with a purpose, heading towards a familiar building, one in which he often gets jobs. The Tower of the Heart pays well, and the Imperial City's chapter house was no exception. When he gets there, he seeks out his usual contact to ask him a few questions. "Tell me friend, does this city have a vampire problem?" (dont have my character sheet on me, will update later with the relavent mods. In relation to the fallen post from the other day.)
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Post by Nephallim on Apr 8, 2009 9:48:16 GMT -8
The Wanderer
The Deva glances up from his tea and nods, "I see. . ."
He raises the cup to his lips and takes a slow sip.
"Should you need my services," He tells his friend, stealing a glance to the pale woman, "I shouldn't stray far."
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Post by Shiningwolf on Apr 8, 2009 10:26:11 GMT -8
The Unlucky(diplomat) "Unless you have heard of something to give me pause..." the deva replies, motioning for a smal drink from the bartender, "I believe this trip may go fairly smoothly However, I believe we should pay a visit to the Tower of the Heart's chantry house later."
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Post by Nephallim on Apr 8, 2009 10:31:26 GMT -8
The Wanderer
"I don't think they call it a 'chantry' house. . . what language is 'chantry' even, elven?" The Deva shrugs his shoulders deliberately.
"You should try the peach tea," He suggests as he takes another sip, "I don't know when I've had it this good. . ."
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Post by Shiningwolf on Apr 8, 2009 10:35:23 GMT -8
The unlucky(diplomat) "Not entirely sure myself actually. Words just float through my mind at times, and they seem right." The deva smiles turning his attention to the minstrel, sipping his tea as well.
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