[Tavern Roleplay] The Arcanist's Mill
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"What? Do I smell that bad?" Glim asks, no amusement in his voice, thought he smiles his toothy smile. Eyes narrowing on the preacher.
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"Ah, I see we count a beastman amongst us," the man says with a loud, crackly voice, "welcome brother. Your kind have long realised our vision to live in harmony with the land." The crowd erupts in a cheer for the Nheedra and the man beckons Glim to him, "step up onto the podium with me, for we share common goals you and I."
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For now Telwath follows and observes. That was his task here, after all. But he kept an eye on Glim in case the needhra found trouble. They were kin after all.
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Thinking the possibilities through, Glim pushes his way through the crowd and climbs the stairs to where He is standing. He then turns to face the crowd, waiting for the speaker to continue.
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The man takes Glim’s paw with a wink. The bald man from the night before eyes the Nheedra with suspicion.
“With the help of this beastman and his kin, we will rid this land of lords and take it for ourselves. We will rain fire on the nobles, and reduce their palaces to ashes,” the man announces to the crowd.
The crowd erupts into a frenzy, "kill the lords!" they chant. Malyvern can see that guards have begun to move towards the hall and are attempting to disperse the angry mob. There aren't many of them, however, and would likely be overrun.
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"Aye. You seem to be mistaken. Friend." He says the last words ripping his paw from the man. "The lords here are fair and just. And they've treated me well. I'll not stand idly by while there is talk of treason." He swipes his eyes across the entire crowd.
"Go to your homes, this is dangerous business talking like this in the open." He roars.
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Stepping forward, Telwath leapt lightly onto the platform next to Glim, turning to face the crowd and stand side by side with him. "Listen well!" He called. "Look to us if you seek unity, but we do not speak for rage and destruction."
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The man looks at Glim maliciously, but his point has been made and the people drawn to his cause, "then go in peace friend, but do not come between us and our goals. We will meet again, I'm sure."
A friendly face moves through the crowd, a Chadra clad in leather armour forcing his way through.
“Come with me, boss,” says Ixuo, “we saw you getting up on that podium and mustered the men back at the tavern." He smiles at the Udoadra, and nods in approval.
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"I will not step down till I've said my piece. If you follow this path, who will lead you? Him" Him says, pointing with his thumb at the man. "Do not go through with this, you will only find yourself awash in misery."
It is then that Glim steps down from the podium, not waiting to listen to how is words affected the crowd. He goes to follow Ixuo.
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The crowd doesn’t seem pleased with Glim’s words, but some among them appear to agree and the man loses his grip on their attention. The mob appears to disperse, and there are mumblings from the crowd directed at the leader,
“Vachan,” says the bald revolutionary to the man in the black robe, “think we’re done here today.”Ixuo paves a way through the crowd for Glim and Telwath, using his arm to push people aside as they jibe and jeer at the trio.
Malyvern meets them at the crowd’s edge with a stalk of Ostrich in his hand, and mess around his lips,
“Thought it’d get a bit hairy there for a moment,” says the mage.
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"Aye, it could've been. But I can't mill about listening to that horde talk about the nobles like that. Aye, I don't see eye to eye. (geez that's a lot of 'Ayes') with a lot of them, but a few I've done jobs for and they paid me fairly and it was honest work. That crew doesn't understand what they're getting into."
Glim looks back at the man he knows now as Vachan.
Vachan is already looking at him.
Glim gets a shiver, but figures it's just the cold of the approaching winter."Filthy beast!" One of the crowd cries and throws something of vegetable origin, it hits Glimheim in the back. He turns back with a growl that stays in his throat till he turns back around.
'They're brave in numbers. But hopefully there won't be as many of them if they've listened to reason.'
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"Too many of your people need to learn the lessons of the past better." Telwath told Malyvern ruefully. "Conflict, division, that is what caused the fracture. If cycles repeat.. I hope they do not. I.." He's cut off as a vegetable splatters against Glim's back, eyes narrowing and claws flexing as he scanned the crowd for threats with a quiet growl. Seeing nothing past jeers so far, he gives the Nheedra an apologetic look, brushing excess fragments from his back. "Some heard your words, at least." He offered to him in an attempt of reassurance.
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Malyvern produces the grimoire from his pocket and chants an incantation in an unknown dialect. A small shield resembling a bubble appears around the mage and the beastmen, protecting them from the rotten missiles being hurled their way.
"Damn humans," says Ixuo, "should have cleaved the lot of them." He wipes some of the mess from his brow. He is still covered in green ichor from the run-in with the arachnid. "You handled yourself well there," he says to Telwath, "got anything in that pouch of yours to take away this damn smell?"
Glim’s men await by the wagon, and they have perched themselves by the tavern. A well dressed man with a feather in his cap is standing with them and by the looks on their faces, they are already tired of his words.
“A moment, sir” says the well dressed man to Glim, “for what it’s worth, I agree with what you said up there on the podium."
"Garh, get out of our damn way," says Ixuo, "I've had enough of your kind for one day."
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A few meters away from the wagon stands a robed erwydra, her antlers noticeably popping through her hood. She glances over at the group carefully, analyzing them one by one as she breathes in the smoke from her pipe. As she lets it escape her mouth, she cleans the pipe and puts it away, then starts walking over to the tavern, Keeping one hand behind her back, firmly grasping her staff.
"Good evening." She says, confidently. "I noticed your little incident. I have to say, you've caused quite the impact, both good and bad. I'd watch my back if I were you, next time it's probably not going to be rotten vegetables what's going to be thrown at you."
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“Alright, say what you need. I’m due for a drink so make it quick.” Glim directs to the man in the feathered cap.
Glim stares dumbfounded at the Erwydra. ‘Another one!’
“Aye, you’re probably right but it needed to be said. Thanks for the warning.” Glim says dismissively.
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The erwydra shrugs and lets go of her staff, chuckling to herself while opening the tavern door and heading inside. Glancing around, she spots a table in a far corner of the tavern. Walking towards it, she signals the bartender for a drink, and sits down. She pulls out a book and her pipe, and starts smoking and reading peacefully.
Moments later, she thanks the bartender for her drink with a smile, and continues to read while slowly sipping on her mead.
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Suffering from a sour belly, Mimi groans and burrows her long nose into her arms which are crossed on the table, I am never drinking this thing called "cider" again. One of her legs slips out from under her and her hoof makes a clank as it hits the stone floor.
Peering at the room bleary eyed Mimi is astounded to see an Erwydra sitting in one of the far tables, reading and smoking like she belonged there. I wish I felt so at home, she thought to herself and nestled back into her arms, dreaming of green places and tall trees.
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"Their way, not ours." Telwath mused to Ixou. "They'll learn or they won't." He paused, checking the herbs he has on offer. "You'll need a river or lake to wash yourself in." He advised the Chadra. "But this." A small leather skin of an odd smelling paste is held forth. "It'll clean your fur and skin, and, you will smell nice." A faint slant of amusement touched the Udoadra's face. "We should all think about some cleaning." He suggested, glancing at Glim's back.
Eyes went to the well dressed man and he spread his arms. "Accept that us hearing your words doesn't mean we will follow them, and I will listen to what you wish to say. The Erwydra who addressed them received a curious look, but he held his silence on that score, watching her head for the tavern.
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Malyvern places a bottle of freshly brewed Dovetail Brew next to the sleeping Erwydra, "this should help with her hangover," he says, speaking from experience.
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“Thank you for your audience, Sir Glim,” says the well-dressed man, “you may call me Ruve.” Ruve extends his hand to the Nheedra. He needs to tilt his head high to maintain eye contact as he talks. “I hear you and your men recently traversed the frigid mountains,” says the merchant, “A friend of mine told me of your professionalism in carrying out the job."
He produces a map with a very long line across it. In the middle of the map is Kuasrine, and at the very end, way past the the frigid mountains, sits Avermore.
“There are five wagons in total and seven caravans, with a crew of nearly a hundred," Ruve continues, "collectively we are known as Rhila Trading Company and we are transporting valuable supplies intended for the families caught up in the civil war in Avermore. We unfortunately lost our escort as we arrived here, struck by some kind of spider in the woods outside the town.”
"Wagon's all busted up, could do with the coin," says Ixuo.
"After hearing your words on the podium, I knew for sure you and your men would be the ones to hire," says Ruve, "simply name your price, sir."
[This is a set up for a future story, but it will be a while before this happens. There is still much to explore in the Arcanist's Mill, and the surrounding town.]
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"It seems that drink can wait." Glim says, scratching his chin in consideration. He looks to Ixuo who nods in agreement. The men had just finished a job, and knowing them they would have cold feet soon enough.
"I'm glad you think we're the company for you. I'll run it by the men. I'll start off by offering a 1,150 gold hire price. You're paying for me and my men, not some wet nosed bunch straight off their mothers teat. Think it over, I'll be inside with my crew. We've got time to spare, don't rush it." Glim says, sauntering towards the tavern doors, pushing them open and walking straight towards Phargought.
"Got a new job offer, get you gear in order. It's a few days in the making. But be ready to leave."
"Aye aye, captain." Pargought responds, thumping his closed fist into his chest in salute.
Glim heads back outside, removing his breastplate and locking it securely in his safe box chained to his wagon.
