( Hi all im am hoping to start a carector board were every one relates whats going on with there current campaings)
@ seen walking into a dock side bar in the imperial city, a large blond man wearing chain mail and a claymor sits down at the bar and talkes to the bar tender@
Ill have a horn of mead, or what ever you have that passes as beer please. o and by the way im just back in the city on buisness from up north. what be new news around here
Some time later a well dressed man roughly a decade over the age of manhood enters the tavern. Removing the traveling cloak he reveals, a fine silk shirt of deep crimson. An ornate bastard sword hangs at his left hip. The hilt is finely crafted in the shape of a dragon. Its wings outstretched to form its guard. The metal is of unknown origin, the wyrm nearly the shade of the gentleman’s silken tunic. At the pommel its tale wraps around a strange chrysoberyl gem, that appears to be an eye. Hanging his cloak he strides toward the bar.
‘‘Good morrow Barliman. Its been a while.’’
‘‘Indeed it has good Master Brooke. I trust you are well.’’
‘‘Well indeed, sir. I thank you for asking. How has business been?’’
‘Not to bad, I cannot complain. Though there’s been some shady characters hangin’ ‘round as of late.’’
‘‘Shady you say. Would this gentleman happen to be one of them?’’ [turning to face marcum uth mather]
@ turning to face ( in his eyes) a flat lander fop@
Whoa there friend. if you speak in jest it is not taken well. if you speake for true then you best be running for you have picked a fine day for your death burrow to be erected
“Gentlemen, please!”
@A man wearing noble’s outfit and a adorned sword at his left side turns around the table and put a hand on Marcus’ right shoulder. As Marcus turns to see to whom he is adressed, he sees the symbol of the Imperial Royal Guard on the man’s left breast.@
“It is not the place nor the time to start a fight here” he says in a southern accent. “And you,” The man looks up at Marcus’ companions “it is not the way to treat our guest here.”
[Finishing a quick gulp, the finely dressed gentleman sets down his glass of water left by the keep. Turning to face the stranger, he rests an elbow on the bar.] “Easy friend. My words were merely in jest. I assure you I am a pacifist by nature. Come let me buy you a drink.” [His eyes catching the Imperial seal on the others chest] “Ah, greetings good sir. I am Collin Brooke.” [extending his hand] “It has been some time since my last visit to the Imperial City. Tell me friend, what is the news?”
[The Imperial Royal Guard extend his hand and shakes colin’]
“I’m Lewis Caelere, lieutenant of the Fifth Imperial Saquadron. Sorry for the interruption.” [Lewis sits down] “Well, here in the Imperial Center, it’s much like casual business. Notables rages against citizen; citizens against notables; nobles against nobles; …”
The door to the inn swings open, a brief draught of cold air sweeping in and swirling amidst the rushes scattered upon the floor. A lean man standing little over five and a half spans stands just inside the door, blowing upon his hands as if to restore much desired warmth. Dressed in a fine doublet of deep blue with silver thread, he steps forward, the rapier and main gauche at his hips rattling slightly. Fine, almost delicate features are visible as he moves smoothly forward into the lighted common room and towards the bar.
Approaching the bar he signals to Barliman for service. Surveying the interior of the inn while he waits he says almost to himself, “Mmm … a most … ahmm … interesting establishment. Who would have … ahhhh … thought it would so … mhmm … cold.” Strangely, though obviously Anuirean the man speaks with a noticeable Khinasi accent. The insignia of Kalien, the infamous Count of Endier, can be clearly seen upon his raised collar.
no offence my friend taken..
@talking to both gentelmen@
i am Marcum uth mather just back from the war from up north. the high lands have quieted down and i am on bisness from my lord to gain regongnition from the chamberlin for the new king of Helskapa
“Ah I see.” [The Imperial Guard sigh] “And is the war going well?”
Originally posted by marcum uth mather no offence my friend taken..
@talking to both gentelmen@
i am Marcum uth mather just back from the war from up north. the high lands have quieted down and i am on bisness from my lord to gain regongnition from the chamberlin for the new king of Helskapa
(Raising an eyebrow) Halskapa you say? Forgive my ignorance, but I thought that Halskapa has long since passed from the jurisdication of the Empire, (turning to Caelere) no offense lieutenant. What could your lord possibly hope to gain by recognition by a lord that has no authority in the region?
(Noticing the new comer he give him a firm nod and a broad smile.)
Originally posted by Kalien
Approaching the bar he signals to Barliman for service. Surveying the interior of the inn while he waits he says almost to himself, “Mmm … a most … ahmm … interesting establishment. Who would have … ahhhh … thought it would so … mhmm … cold.” Strangely, though obviously Anuirean the man speaks with a noticeable Khinasi accent. The insignia of Kalien, the infamous Count of Endier, can be clearly seen upon his raised collar.
Ahem yes, well good day to you master. Thank you for your kinds words. Cold ya say. … NOB! Nob! You wolly footed slowcoach? Where are you? Blasted halfling. Slower than molasses ever time I need him. Ah yes, forgive me sir, … no what was I going to say… Ah yes! What may you be wanting sir? A cool ale to wet your throat? Perhaps a warm bowl of potato soup to warm your bones?
Originally posted by Barliman
Ahem yes, well good day to you master. Thank you for your kinds words. Cold ya say. … NOB! Nob! You wolly footed slowcoach? Where are you? Blasted halfling. Slower than molasses ever time I need him. Ah yes, forgive me sir, … no what was I going to say… Ah yes! What may you be wanting sir? A cool ale to wet your throat? Perhaps a warm bowl of potato soup to warm your bones?
“A … ahhh … mug of hot broth would be … mhmm … most welcome, if you can … ahm … manage it,” the newcomer replies, his oddly Khinasi-accented voice at odds with his appearance. Looking over the commons once again his eyes briefly come to rest on the nearby group, his attention arrested by the mention of Halskapa. Reaching into a pocket he produces a couple thick silver coins and places them upon the bar. “I … hmm … trust these will … cover the … mmm … cost of my drink?” he murmurs in Barliman’s general direction before moving over towards the group who have caught his attention.
Approaching the table he offers a slight bow, fingers touching lips, forehead, and heart in ritual Khinasi greeting. “I … mmhm … hope you don’t mind if I … ahh … join you?” he asks.
Brooke returns the greeting to the newcomer, bowing slightly more depth. “Greetings friend. I am Sir Collin Brooke. The gentleman on the left is Ambassador Marcum uth mather of Halskapa, and this fine fellow to his right is Lieutenant Caelere, of Empire’s Fifth Squadron. Since our party seems to be growing mayhaps we should seek a table, where you can formally introduce yourself.”
Originally posted by Lawgiver
Brooke returns the greeting to the newcomer, bowing slightly more depth. “Greetings friend. I am Sir Collin Brooke. The gentleman on the left is Ambassador Marcum uth mather of Halskapa, and this fine fellow to his right is Lieutenant Caelere, of Empire’s Fifth Squadron. Since our party seems to be growing mayhaps we should seek a table, where you can formally introduce yourself.”
Inclining his head once more the man moves to a nearby table and pulls up a chair, adjusting his sword as he sits so that it rests comfortably at his side before speaking. “My name is … mmhm … Arturo Duarte, Lord of … ahh … Manderley Estate in the County of … hmm … Endier.” Gesturing to his new companions to take their seat, he adds, “I … ahhh … serve His … ahm … Excellency, the Count of Endier in various … mmm … endeavours. Please, be seated and continue your … mhmm … discussion.”
…elsewhere in the tavern…
Barliman: mumbling to himself, he notices Nob come through the back door whistling a light melody. Confound it Nob. Its about time you got done fooling around. I’ve got more customers in there than we’ve had in weeks. What have you been doing for the last bloomin hour?
Nob: Uh… picking up the (fumbles for a list… the 6 dozen eggs, 40 pints of milk, 3 sacks of flour, 5 bushels of potatos and 2 bushels of corn you asked me ta get.
Barliman: Well blast it all lad. Park the wagon and get in side help me already. There’s a right fine chap in there dressed in the linens of the Count of Endier. No doubt one of his many managerial trademens visiting the Imperial City for something or other far more important than the happenings of this place. See to it that he gets a good ale and a bowl of chicken…no, tomato…oh shucks it must have slipped my mind… Just give him a bowl of potato stew. We seem to still have some on the hearth. If its wrong give him the meal free.
sometime later…A frazzled and over worked halfling rushes from the kitchen to the main dining hall. Surveying the room he quickly scurries to the table of the visitor of Endier.
My apologies on the speed of service, master. If I can offer you anything further please let me know.
With a curt nod he quickly turns and sets to buzzing around the bar filling tankards.
well tu answer your question Sir Brooke there was some kind of arms deal of sort through the chamberlin from what i was told for one of the othere contenders for the throne. at least that is what it looks like… armor and swords stamped with the simbole of Roele and the like . So my Lord Durham has sent me here to see what is afoot