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Tavern of Legend: Season 2

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"Uuh is there something that I don't know of?" Kyle raised his eyebrow at Rafael.

He totally digs her.

He hated to be a party pooper, but small talk could be conducted later. "Anyways Rafael, this demon that you were speaking of. When do we get to kill it?" Kyle liked how he had asked when they would kill it rather than when they would have to face it. The days gone by had been rather peaceful, the only thing on his mind other than the demon being the Baroness of Predator's Keep's crowning ceremony at Port Caelum. As many good souls that the event would attract, Kyle was sure that it would attract a few with more malicious intent. Besides that, he had heard tales of vials of precious liquid, able to heal what has been lost. For him, that would be his wing. For Rachel, that would be her memories. It was exactly what everyone needed. Perhaps he'd get Isaiah to steal a vial for him.

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A'aria gave Heather a small smile of thanks, unable to respond as conversation continued but wanting to thank her nonetheless. 

A'aria watched Alyssa and Raphael's exchange curiously. Raphael usually flirted with many, yes, but they didn't often flirt back, and he didn't usually seem quite so into it. It was interesting, almost a bit amusing, and she may have stiffled a giggle or two. 

Then her expression sobered when Kyle mentioned the demon and killing it. Somehow she couldn't quite imagine that. Raphael had gone pale, run for his life in fear the moment he saw whoever had been chasing him. And he was powerful- outside of that moment, she'd never quite seen him like that. Did Kyle know? She wasn't sure. 

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As the doors to the tavern open, a large, muscled stranger enters, fur armor covering the gray skin that made up his shape. His footsteps hit the floorboards with an audible thud, the seven foot and two inch tall orc known as Goliath hunched slightly to keep from hitting the top of the door. Giving a small glance around the room, the druidic warrior gave a light hearted smile as he made his way towards the bar. 

This place had an inviting feeling towards it, one that made it appear as if the patrons had always belonged, and would always find comfort inside of it. Many times he wished he could find a place of tranquility amongst the urban landscapes that dotted the landscape of Valucre. In his heart he knew it would never be able to substitute the serenity that the pure form of nature could give him, but for now it would suffice. Sometimes one had to take a break from the solitude that the wilds offered in order to socialize with others, which was the primary reason for him being here.

Speaking of socializing, there was quite a large number of people mingling here already, which meant there would be no end of interesting conversations to have he guessed. With a wide spectrum of people, there were sure to be a differing number of viewpoints and beliefs that would most likely differ from his own. That of course brought with it the risk that someone may take offense to how Goliath may think and feel, but he was confident that he could keep things civil. If his intimidating stature did not keep them from thinking twice about starting a fight, then the ax at his side would certainly do a better job of it.

Finding a spot at an empty table, the large orc ordered for himself a vegetarian meal of steamed vegetables, grilled egg plant and a side of fresh salad with walnuts sprinkled on. Respectfully he did his best to abstain from eating meat, as he did not agree with with many of the practices people used in order to raise livestock. Because of this he preferred simply to eat fruits and vegetables when in urban areas, as they were both impossible to abuse, as well as easy to detect the presence of poisons.

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The magician had heard tales of large creatures, bred from the ancestors of man and beasts. Somewhere along the lines of evolution, the paths split, one path leading down to what were now known as the humans. The other took a more interesting twist, giving birth to Ogres, Trolls, Goblins, and greenskins like the such that had just entered the Tavern. It was against Connor's nature to trust anything with a smile. The smug look on the orc's face had already succeeded in rousing his suspicions. Clearly, this creature was not one of meekness. He glanced over at his allies whom were performing some what not rubbish ceremonies at the other end of the Tavern. He doubted that they would be aware of the entrance of this hulking giant, but nonetheless he felt the need to alert them. He whistled sharply, almost like a shrill siren forming itself between his lips, if only for a second. The whistle was one practiced, but not a god given gift. If one were to seek the gift of sound, they were better of looking for Vox Umani.

Connor straightened his bowtie. He knew he looked rather out of place, being dressed in a sleek formal suit in the middle of a tavern. He felt the need to approach the strange being, feeling slightly unsettled by his peaceful demeanor. He slipped a deck of cards out of his pocket and shuffled them rapidly. Connor's cards were his god given gift, his talent, one would say. Few would be intimidated by a magician whom threw playing cards, but after years of practice, they flew like bullets and sliced like knives. One other perk which he'd developed over the years was the gift of prophecy. His cards were arguably prophetic. It was yet to be proven, but so far they had proved to be accurate in most predictions.

Split. Shuffle. Cut.

Out flipped the first card into his open palm. The eight of spades it was. Symbolic of misjudging another. Perhaps he had gotten the wrong impression of the orc. He slipped the cards back into his pocket as he found himself standing right next to the orc, leaning against a pillar to retain a casual stance. "A mighty weak appetite you have there for your size, sir," he said in an amused tone towards the Orc. If the orc were to turn to face him, he would tip his tophat in greeting. Otherwise, he would simply leave. Folk whom refused to reply to greetings were full of themselves. He would want nothing to do with that sort.

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Goliath could not help but smile as he looked over at the strangely dressed man tipping his hat to him, his hunch being correct about this tavern. From what he could tell he may have been a performer of some kind, wearing a suit and bow tie instead of the more medieval styled clothing he would witness. Of course this place was large, with several different cultures with varying degrees of technological advancement among them. No telling where he was from, but he appeared pleasant enough, so he would greet him with polite respect.

"Perhaps, but many creatures derive all their sustenance from plant life, so they may have the better idea than eating those who eat this. Come, have a seat and I shall order you a drink if you would like, you remind me of someone I was with some time ago. He was rather skeptical of my intentions, but he actually jumped on my back and tried to choke me into unconsciousness."

Thinking back to that adventure in Hell's Gate always made him laugh, it was a time he was able to make a positive impact on those around him. Such tales were good for short periods of nostalgic entertainment, but it also meant remember all the blood and the killing. Goliath wished that there could have been a better way, but humans it turned out could be quite savage.

"My name is Goliath, a traveler of sorts. What might your name be?" 

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"Perhaps, but many creatures derive all their sustenance from plant life, so they may have the better idea than eating those who eat this. Come, have a seat and I shall order you a drink if you would like, you remind me of someone I was with some time ago. He was rather skeptical of my intentions, but he actually jumped on my back and tried to choke me into unconsciousness."

Connor folded his arms and smiled curiously at the orc. This man had clearly been through much. Well, much more than he had, that was for sure.

He slid onto a seat infront of Goliath, resting his elbows on the table and linking his gloved fingers. "My name is Goliath, a traveler of sorts. What might your name be?"

"Connor Fortesque, Blackjack of the Rose Offensive," as he separated his fingers, a card appeared between them. He looked at it with feigned curiosity, flipping it over for Goliath to see, revealing it to be the Jack of Spades. He slid the card over the surface of the table before covering it with his hand, rubbing it against the table for a few seconds, and when he removed his hand, it was gone. "I used to be a performer before I found more... Meaningful work," he mused to Goliath, but it was equally for himself. He had always found pride in working with Edric Carter. After all, it was the man himself who had pulled him out of his cycle of illegal trading, and helped him to clear his debts. And with the Crowning of the Baroness coming so soon, he felt it especially important to get to know the land of Valucre better than he had when his world was simply chariot racing and money.

"A traveler you say? Have you been to Port Caelum? I heard its a wonderful place."

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Gone unnoticed among the wild crowds of the tavern, a brown haired girl donning a flowing coal colored dress silently watched the scenes unfolding before her. Her eyes were a marine blue, but if one looked closely enough, they could see the flames burning within her pupils. Few would be able to tell that she was the daughter of one of the most powerful elemental lords in Valucre. And even fewer would be able to guess that she was enslaved.

 

Even after 4 months of serving under her Mistress, Heather still felt awkward around humans and other fleshies. Her mistress wasn't exactly a fleshie, her body was borne from the wood element, allowing Heather to be more trusting towards her. A'aria had tried to convince her countless times that the others in the group weren't as terrifying as the dark elf whom had enslaved her father, the one whom had forced her father to kill his only daughter. It was that day, Cellius Houston arrived at her residence uninvited. He spoke with her father, the elemental lord, Prince Maximilian Sulfuras. After a few minutes of discussion, she heard her father's frantic pleas, before he groaned in agony, and then there was silence. She remembered yelping in alarm, making her way towards the door, but before her hands could grip the handle, Cellius had beat her to it. She remembered his words clearly.

There cannot be witnesses my minion. Kill her.

She stared at her father in shock. He nodded grimly. His expression was blank. And suddenly, she felt a wrenching feeling in her gut as her father's blade tore through her abdomen. He twisted it around before sliding it out. Her mind couldn't compute what was happening. She stared in shock as she sank to her knees and fell onto her back. Slowly, her vision began to fade, as did her life force.

 

Heather shook her head. She'd been thinking about the dreams that she'd had. Her father's enslavement playing over and over in her mind. Had she not been saved by Rafael Untor's healing abilities, she would have been long gone.

Suddenly, she felt it. Something strange with the atmosphere. The taverners had gone quiet. Many spoke in low voices. And then, a sharp whistle. She turned her head to the direction of Connor Fortesque, the Rose Offensive's magician. There he sat, opposite a large greenskinned creature. He appeared humanoid, apart from the canines which protruded from his jaws. Heather considered leaving the tavern and to leave social activities to her mistress's counterparts, but if she didn't start somewhere, she would never learn to blend into valucre's flesh and blood society. She got off her seat and whispered to her mistress, "Please excuse me, Miss A'aria." She turned and walked towards the magician, eyeing the greenskin suspiciously. "Mister Connor, my mistress wishes that I get to know the local populace better, in view of my twenty years locked in a cave with my father," she stated blandly. She smiled politely at the creature. "May I, Mister?" she gestured towards the seat next to Connor.

Edited by Alternative

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"I cannot say that I have, it must be beyond Terrenus if that is the case. My traveling is more of a spiritual sort, trying to find my place in this world, a purpose, I suppose."

Ever since he had rescued his people from the clutches of a deranged wizard, Goliath has struggled in trying to find where he belonged. His own people did not wish to have him, as he was far too different from them, something he did not blame them for in their decision. Goliath truly was a one of a kind orc, as his body was mutated, a result of the experimentation brought upon by the wizard that enslaved them. His purpose was to be a weapon, a means to subjugating other tribes of orcs until the wizard had his own army under his control.

"So far, I have yet to find that purpose, but along the way I have found others that also share in my desires, or simply people that need help. As someone that reveres nature I ponder about whether or not these actions are truly aligned with what the forces of nature would want, but life is always about uncertainties."

The orc chuckled once more, feeling like he was some sort of traveling philosopher, probably boring his guest with his rambling. Perhaps that is the effect of being away from other people for so long, you start to miss your own voice. With some practice perhaps, he would hone his ability to communicate with others without seeming like a blowhard.

"Forgive me, it has been some time since I have spoken with others in my travels. Please, tell me more of this Rose Offensive you are part of."

Looking over at the newcomer, the warden invited her to sit with him at their table, happy to have another guest at their table. 

"Seems as if I am not the only one who needs practice. Hopefully together we can form a halfway palatable person to speak with" he said with a small chuckle, continuing with his dinner.

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Above the table of the three Tobais sat there listening in the rafter above their heads. He knew Conner would be playing with his cards and pulling some antics here or there for a good impression. The Orcs philosophical nonsense wasn't to bad it only being nonsense in that most people probably wouldn't listen to him.

  Then footsteps approached and a different voice spoke out. It was Heather he was surpised she wasn't clinging to her master still she seemed to do that a whole lot. 

He observed the groups with great care but acted like he was asleep. It was about time for another new person to walk in. He yawned under that mask of his. Then procceded to watch the next bit of exchange.

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Connor was hesitant to reveal to this orc about the purpose of his organisation, but Edric Carter had once told him to always be honest. They were honest people, so they had no fear in telling the truth.

"The Rose Offensive is an intelligence organisation with agents planted all around Valucre. Our purpose is to neutralize threats before word of them even reaches the ears of the commoner. Hence, we have many associates who are involved in some of the most underground black markets and spy networks in Terrenus and Genesaris. Tellus Mater has always been... Underdeveloped, so crime already ran rampant there, there's really no way we can sneak agents around in there," he pursed his lips, "for months since its founding, the Rose Offensive has managed to neutralize two threats that threatened Predator's Keep and Ashville respectively. In spite of that, government organisations are still trying to go after us, but so far, none of us have been caught. I think the soldiers are rather reluctant to capture us anyways, since we practically do some of their jobs for them."

Connor went silent for a few seconds, "But recently there has been a strange series of assassinations. Rose Offensive members have been killed all over Valucre. It started with one, then another. At first we felt it was a coincidence, until we started seeing a chain, almost a pattern." His mind ticked off the names of people who had been killed. He remembered Lukas, the bard whom he had recruited personally. His dead body rotting away in an Ashville gambling den. "The identity of this assassin is currently our biggest priority. Its taking us out one by one." He glanced at Heather for a moment, "Your mistress is in danger Miss Sulfuras." He chuckled at his poor attempt to imitate her accent. "Light this for me, would you?" he handed a cigar to the elemental princess, nervously toying with a poker card around in his other hand.

Edited by Sapphire Blue

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Heather huffed at Connor's attempt to tease her. The magician had been one of the friendliest to her ever since she'd been enslaved by her mistress. Then again, she wouldn't really call it enslavement. If she were not under this new mistress, she would eventually end up serving someone else. She was grateful that A'aria treated her more of a person than a minion, but that still didn't break the bindings of her curse. To always be polite and loyal to one person alone. "Nonsense. I'll never let anyone touch an inch of a hair on her head," she growled. A'aria was the only family that she had. Her father had been in a hibernative state for at least 4 months. It would be a few millennia before he was to wake again. Even though her mistress constantly told her that the others in the Rose Offensive were sincere and good people, she still found it difficult to confide in anyone but her.

She received Connor's cigar without a word and lifted up her hand. Her palm opened and a small flame erupted within it. She lit the tip of the cigar and returned it to Connor, dousing the flame with a twist of her forearm. That was another problem. The wood Nymph was terrified of her. A'aria's abilities drew from the forest. Heather was a being of pure fire. She had to be careful in combat, so as not to hurt her mistress. She had seen the extent of damage in which fire could do to A'aria. It wasn't something that she wanted to remember.

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"Sounds like a real problem" Goliath pondered as he listened, giving the problem some thought as he finished his meal. There were plenty of ways one may go about it, though Goliath wasn't sure how he could be of help towards them. His own experience was mostly with things of nature and travel, not the problems of civilized people. Maybe his experience with the wilds could actually come in handy though as he thought of something to say.

"Have you considered laying a trap for this assassin? You seem spread thin, but perhaps by calling in your other people and leaving one of them open, you can control the terms of the next attack."

Goliath had foiled enough poachers to learn the ways of a trapper, so he figured he may be able to impart a solution to his problem. Personally he thought what they were doing would be considered noble, yet the governments of the world aren't keen on their existence. Goliath could certainly sympathize with such a feeling, as his appearance was enough to shut the doors of even the most welcoming of travelers.

"You remind me a little of winter spirit I pledged myself to, little one. He was a little shy as well, but when he taught me how to speak and the ways of druidism, I considered him more than just my liberator, but also my friend. I hope that you are also able to find someone that can appreciate you enough to call you friend."

As a token of respect, he spoke a small phrase in the language of the elements, taught to him by the patron spirit that gave him his powers over ice. When spoken in the dialect of a winter spirit, it sounded like a howling wind against a glacier. The meaning of this phrase was 'I respect your power' which meant a great deal with beings of elemental nature, as they always enjoy feeling appreciated for their existence.

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Heather glanced at her Mistress's companion with an amused look.

A trap? How is that supposed to be relevant?

The person whom had orchestrated the murders of Lukas Policio and the others whom were not named was not one who would be easily fooled. The murders were done swiftly, with no witnesses, and no traces that could lead them to any potential suspects. However, what the orc said did give her an idea. "Mister Connor, his words have truth to them. What if we do say... Set up a bait. I'll be willing to be that bait. And if I do indeed get attacked, you will all be in the nearby vicinity to capture whoever goes for me," she suggested earnestly. The idea did not scare her. If it would prevent any further threat to her mistress, Heather was willing to do it. Besides, she had survived much, much worse things.

And suddenly, the sound of a howling wind recoiled within her ears. Her eyes twitched to the orc, whom was making a seemingly impossible sound with his humanoid vocal chords. She hadn't heard a sound like that in a long time. 'I respect your power,' it said.

Her language was an art lost in the modern society. The few elementals that lived in the present were mostly enslaved, and forced to fight in arenas. Many perished this way. A dishonorable death. She was eternally grateful that her mistress would never do that to her. As the whistle flowed out from the orc's mouth, her body began to sway. It made her instantly nostalgic of her childhood. Her childhood. Her mother had never been a part of her childhood. Her mother was human, giving her a fraction of human genetics. It was said that as her mother gave birth to her, the heat that radiated from her body caused her to sustain horrible burns. She was killed in childbirth.

As the whistle slowly faded away from the orc's mouth, Heather began to regain control of herself, steadying her body. A small tear formed under her left eye. She quickly rubbed it away.

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Alieth (Demon Hunter)


Alieth entered the tavern, her eyes automatically flickered across the room, searching for danger. She slipped down the hood of the black coat she had been wearing, "It's not polite to dine with your hood on", she recalled the words of her sister in her head, Alieth wondered at the time where Nessa had got that from, the Academy had never taught such things. She left her gloves on though, to hide her markings, the markings of a demon hunter.

The feel of the tavern, to her, was warm, but not the pleasant kind of warm, it was the kind of warm you'd feel if you were walking through the muggy streets of a desert town. She walked to an empty seat, her short frame glided easily between the tables. "Unholy beings here" she said quietly to herself, although she didn't have any powers to detect this, it was quite apparent to her. Alieth's eyes looked to her crossbow, which was strapped around her hip, she was not here to attack, she was here to eat, so that's what she would do. As much as she didn't like to admit, being a human had disadvantages, she could be smelt from a mile away, but alas, she doubted people would be very bothered by her presence, there appeared to be a tense feeling already in the tavern, and she wasn't very convinced that she would change much.

Slightly frowning, she ordered a stew, surprised the Tavern would have the ingredients to make it. She quietly sat there, observing, as she waited for her food. This is what she did most of the time, wait, observe, and then, attack, or in this case, eat. She ran her hands across the wood of the table, then drew her hands back, "odd" Alieth said quietly to herself.

 

Edited by Lilah

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26 minutes ago, Lilah said:

Alieth (Demon Hunter)


Alieth entered the tavern, her eyes automatically flickered across the room, searching for danger. She slipped down the hood of the black coat she had been wearing, "It's not polite to dine with your hood on", she recalled the words of her sister in her head, Alieth wondered at the time where Nessa had got that from, the Academy had never taught such things. She left her gloves on though, to hide her markings, the markings of a demon hunter.

The feel of the tavern, to her, was warm, but not the pleasant kind of warm, it was the kind of warm you'd feel if you were walking through the muggy streets of a desert town. She walked to an empty seat, her short frame glided easily between the tables. "Unholy beings here" she said quietly to herself, although she didn't have any powers to detect this, it was quite apparent to her. Alieth's eyes looked to her crossbow, which was strapped around her hip, she was not here to attack, she was here to eat, so that's what she would do. As much as she didn't like to admit, being a human had disadvantages, she could be smelt from a mile away, but alas, she doubted people would be very bothered by her presence, there appeared to be a tense feeling already in the tavern, and she wasn't very convinced that she would change much.

Slightly frowning, she ordered a stew, surprised the Tavern would have the ingredients to make it. She quietly sat there, observing, as she waited for her food. This is what she did most of the time, wait, observe, and then, attack, or in this case, eat. She ran her hands across the wood of the table, then drew her hands back, "odd" Alieth said quietly to herself.

 

Tobais poped up from his spot in the rafters and walked above her table. Before he dropped in from over her head. " Soo I can see your new here. So you the self righeous type or do you do your job for money? Actually disregard that question it's wonderful to have you here.

 

6 hours ago, Alternative said:

Heather glanced at her Mistress's companion with an amused look.

A trap? How is that supposed to be relevant?

The person whom had orchestrated the murders of Lukas Policio and the others whom were not named was not one who would be easily fooled. The murders were done swiftly, with no witnesses, and no traces that could lead them to any potential suspects. However, what the orc said did give her an idea. "Mister Connor, his words have truth to them. What if we do say... Set up a bait. I'll be willing to be that bait. And if I do indeed get attacked, you will all be in the nearby vicinity to capture whoever goes for me," she suggested earnestly. The idea did not scare her. If it would prevent any further threat to her mistress, Heather was willing to do it. Besides, she had survived much, much worse things.

And suddenly, the sound of a howling wind recoiled within her ears. Her eyes twitched to the orc, whom was making a seemingly impossible sound with his humanoid vocal chords. She hadn't heard a sound like that in a long time. 'I respect your power,' it said.

Her language was an art lost in the modern society. The few elementals that lived in the present were mostly enslaved, and forced to fight in arenas. Many perished this way. A dishonorable death. She was eternally grateful that her mistress would never do that to her. As the whistle flowed out from the orc's mouth, her body began to sway. It made her instantly nostalgic of her childhood. Her childhood. Her mother had never been a part of her childhood. Her mother was human, giving her a fraction of human genetics. It was said that as her mother gave birth to her, the heat that radiated from her body caused her to sustain horrible burns. She was killed in childbirth.

As the whistle slowly faded away from the orc's mouth, Heather began to regain control of herself, steadying her body. A small tear formed under her left eye. She quickly rubbed it away.

A rather forgettable man placed some drinks on the table for the three. Ordered just for you three so that no one would be left out. With that he hurriedly moved away for someone else's order soon becoming a phantom in the crowd around him.

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