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Acies ab Vesania

Tavern of Legend Season 3

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The man puffs up, looking mightily offended that some little girl traipsing about the Tavern would put him on the spot like that. The nerve of that elven woman!

“I speak when ready. Do not push the rock downhill I say!” The man pauses while entertaining a wet fit of hacking, complete with a greenish globule spat into a napkin which he pulled from, and then just as quickly returned to, a waist pocket on his coat.

“Where was I? Oh yes, yes. The treasure. A great treasure, I know where to find it.”

He leans forward, trying to draw the other into his little conspiracy. The act of bending has a detrimental effect on the little control he has over his bowels, evidenced a whistling burst of flatulence that manages to stampede over the nearby conversation. Unabated, he waves at the young woman to get closer.

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Amila grimace as she dares to actually pay attention to the disgraceful man. He had no manners and no...anything. Maybe she shouldn't have come to this bar, then she wouldn't have been introduced to him. His grotesque behavior and foul orientation would shoo away anyone of the opposite sex but she wasn't the type to miss an opportunity. Maybe he would give some sort of task that would relieve her of the dullness of the day. 

She turned towards the man and finished her drink, raising an eyebrow. "What do you have to say that you think I would have any interest in hearing about?" 

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@Scapechild

Taron was unsure of what to make of the elf's tale, even up to the point where his intoxication suddenly left him. That was new, but not the strangest thing he'd seen in his travels. “Well met, Bannon, son of Agrius.” he replied calmly, as if he were greeting an old friend. “I am Taron. I am simply... traveling.” He was a little unsure whether his response sounded genuine or hasty and forced. In truth, he had not prepared to discuss how he'd wound up in this world called Valucre in the first place. Knowing nothing of the elf, let alone the world, save for names, he was unsure how much information would be safe to reveal.

“I am looking for... ” The words to finish his reply failed him, his mind drawing a blank. He could almost feel himself leaving the room, as his very soul felt pulled by some foreboding presence. What he wanted to say his mind would not bring him to say. After a moment's pause he caught himself with a deep breath and gave a plausible response.

“...memories.” He finished quietly. “I have no memory of this place. There is much I intend to learn and discover. If... you'll excuse me for a moment...” He stood almost a little more quickly than he'd intended, a wave of dread overcoming him. “I just need some air...”

 

@Acies ab Vesania @Hygge

Taron gazed about the room, his mind riddled with incoherent thoughts, as he tried to make his way towards the exit. He stumbled in such a way that might suggest to the others in the tavern that he was drunk, yet he'd only had a single sip of ale. He briefly noticed a man and a woman at the bar arguing about something. He was about to walk past them when a drunken patron pushed his way by. Under normal circumstances Taron would have easily noticed and avoided the drunk. As it was, he lost his footing and stumbled backwards, nearly knocking down the man at the bar in the process.

He quickly turned to apologize. “My apologies... Excuse me.”

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The drunk man snorts, a thick glob of something greenish yellow cresting his lips and dribbling onto his chin before he sucks it back and swallows the unidentified viscous mass. He sputters briefly, apparently unsuccessful in corralling all of the liquid down the correct pipe. He coughs, clears his throat, and then lets loose a wet chuckle. “Why, I know great things, I saw the hidden and beyond. I know where rests a hidden treasure.”

Unfortunately, he’s leaning in again, trying to create a conspiracy between the young woman entertaining his rambling and himself, when the stumbling newcomer bumps into him, the result of which a catastrophic cascade of mess and flatulence perhaps best left to the imagination. Let’s just say the result is snot and drool all over Amilia’s top and a fresh round of unpleasant aroma lingering in the air, staying well past its welcome (not that it ever had any). After he pulls himself back, taking back his position at the bar as the crier, he looks over at the individual who bumped into him.

“What of you? Do you seek the platinum fog banks and their hidden truths?”

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@Acies ab Vesania

The unexpected commotion briefly pulled Taron from his sense of impending doom, returning him to the present moment. That moment was greeted by the foul odor and rather unpleasant demeanor of the man he'd just bumped into, along with the sight of the woman who appeared none too pleased to be in his presence.

The platinum... fog banks?” He said questioningly. “Sorry, but I know naught of these fog banks of which you speak.” Musing silently for a moment, he added “What do you know of them?” He wasn't sure why he asked the question. The man seemed nothing more than a raving lunatic, yet Taron had discovered that every great legend or fantastic tale was often built upon a grain of truth, no matter how outlandish the stories had turned it into. After all, half the fun in the journey was seeking out the truth.

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Thalacrel had been listening in for quite a while. The strangers off to the side had been conversing for some time, until a tall, muscular man bumped into them, to which Thalacrel quickly averted his gaze. After that, he couldn't help but eavesdrop on the conversation - the drunk man had mentioned something about treasure hidden in some exotic-sounding location.

He sipped the last bit of liquid before opening his palm, letting go of the empty bottle and allowing it to tumble onto the surface of the wooden table. That was good rum. Giving his face a quick wipe with the back of his hand, he stood up and strode towards the counter, giving the bartender a gesture for another bottle of rum. He wasn't fond of the other ale and drinks sold here - the only drink he enjoyed here was the sweet rum. His thoughts went back to the drunk man's words. Platinum Fog Banks? Hidden truth? Now that sounded mighty exciting. Being a seasoned explorer, he was always interested in roaming the lands and discovering new places. The drunk man mentioned something about a 'hidden treasure'? Hell, worth a shot! Unless it was all gibberish, of course. He was drunk after all.

Grabbing the new bottle of rum, Thalacrel quickly unscrewed the cap and let the brown liquid flow down his throat - the tantalizing sweetness almost numbed his tongue, followed by the strong burning sensation in his throat. He then stumbled across the tavern towards the small group, slightly drunk as well. Just as he reached the group, the muscular man was inquiring about the 'Platinium Fog Banks', so Thalacrel decided to plant himself next to the three strangers, awaiting an answer from the drunk man.

 

Spoiler

OOC: sorry if there are any mistakes or bad writing, I'm quite new to this, and sorry for interrupting XD

 

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@ChaosEmbrace @Acies ab Vesania @whimsical

OOC: I’m out of town for a few weeks so my replies may be a bit short. 

 

Bannon stood from his seat watching Taron crash into some of the other patrons. He smiled at the silliness of it all. Once more he grabbed a drink from a passing barmaid and walked over to the group. He sat down next to a man with a bottle of rum. Bannon placed his arm around the man as if they had been friends for ages. He smiled towards the man. “Cheers, mate”

 

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@Scapechild

An arm wrapped around Thalacrel's back, causing him to shudder slightly. He glanced over to the right - there was another man sitting next to him. Another stranger. He wasn't used to being so intimate with strangers - but he decided to let it slip. The man had a smile on his face - he seems friendly enough. "Cheers," Thalacrel managed, before taking another gulp of rum and slamming the bottle back down onto the table, letting out a small burp in the process.

He turned back towards the group, expecting the drunk man to continue his speech about the fog banks, and the treasure. He couldn't wait to leave the tavern and start his journey, and started tapping his boots against the planked floor impatiently. Was waiting for the drunk man worth it? He could just order a few more bottles of rum to be stored in his backpack,  leave the tavern and be well on his way. He settled on waiting for another minute or so, hoping to get something out of the drunk man's words.

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