RoxxiRifle

The Crow Flies (Tavern RP, All Welcome)

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(OCC: Im new to the forum and wanted to make some friends and get more involved in in RP. Please no OCC chat 😊!  Enjoy your stay at the tavern, and have fun. Meet other Roleplayers, and make contacts for when we all can log in and meet face to face.  Feel free to message me with suggestions! A Welcome to How the Crow flies!

IC Introduction:

Welcome, Friend! To How the Crow Flies.

Quench your thirst and fill your belly, warm your weary bones by the hearth. Tell your tales, join your fellow adventures in a game of cards. We are open night or day!

The Crow Flies is a large spacious Tavern. Cushioned furniture of distinct designs along with hardwood scatters the establishment. Ornate tapestries embroidered with hues of gold and black depicting a flying Crow over snow covered mountain peaks. The Hearth warms the Southern Wall of the tavern illuminating the dimly lit establishment and bringing the warmth. The second level has a series of rooms with beds so the weary traveler may rest their head.

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Posted (edited)

 Ase lounged in a corner of the Crow Flies near the hearth weary from long journey a mug of Ale and half eaten plate of various meats and cheeses on the table before her.  Her riding leathers creaking as she leaned back in her chair trying to get more comfortable.  Grabbing her mug, she took a large swig of Ale as she set the mug back on the table her gaze drifted to a group of rather rowdy rough looking mercenary's playing cards on the other end of the tavern. The men seemed to get more aggressive and more intoxicated with the passing of each game grabbing and groping any women unfortunate enough to walk by .

Ase pulled her cowl lower over her face annoyance at the mercenaries clearly etching it’s way across her delicate features. " Why of all the Taverns did I pick this one?" she grumbled her gaze still locked on the rowdy group 

Edited by RoxxiRifle

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The heavy door opens with a distant creaking and a man enters the tavern.

Thin as a rake yet tall, greasy hair and heavy framed glasses jump to the eye, he is wearing beige pants with a brown leather vest, a white shirt can be seen unter the vest. A small bag is hanging around his shoulders and a pair expensive looking leather shoes wrap around his feet.

A single drop of sweet is rolling down his cheek as he looks around the filled room, his gaze wanders over various faces.


Immediately after he starts approaching the counter while adjusting his glasses and waits for the barkeeper to give him his attention, the fingers on his left hand taping on the wood.
The man on the other side, busy cleaning a mug with a patchy white piece of cloth, squints and nods.
Thin fingers that previously hammered on the counter gesture him to lean over, a quick question being whispered into the receivers ear.
The barkeeper squints again and raises his hand after a moment, gesturing towards a round table in one corner of the room where a handful of rowdy men are loudly playing and drinking.


The man nods and slides a piece of copper over, already on the move towards the round table in question.
He clears his throat and, with his index finger poking the massive shoulder of one of the drinking men, speaks with scratchy tongue:
"Good evening gentlemen, am i right assuming Geik is partaking in this...meeting?"

 

All heads gathered around the table are turning at the same time, eyeing the thin as a rake, yet tall men.

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Posted (edited)
 

((OOC: Hope no one minds me playing the ragtag group of rowdy ruffians!))

You could almost hear a 'popping' sound as the large mans head swiveled uncharactaristically fast, denoting his highly inebriated state-cause hes bound to feel that in the morning. A jingling mail coif that lay atop his head, matting the sweat and grime covered hair down beneath it, with little tufts poking out here and there between the rings, probably the most expensive thing on him, and was more notable than his features, was this...picturesque caricature of civility and upstanding morality, stared up at the wry man whom had poked him, his compatriots mimicking his own bedazzled and befuddled look. "Whom'dis Geik? 'Hom'be'you?" Words not being part of this mercenaries current skill set, as the ale flowed probably more freely through his veins than blood currently, as he reeked of the fluid. 

Much of the whole table smelled like that, like they had been slathered in the concoction and left to sit out in the sun for too long. The one whom was addressed wobbled his head to the side as he tried to look at his friends, not realizing his actions earlier with his little headsnap had taxed what muscle his neck had to keep his head up-creating a somewhat odd sight as his head lulled off to one direction...most likely the injured side.

"Any'yuu lot know'ai G-g....Geik?" Barely able to form the sentence for half a second, before guffawing gently. The others in turn just shaking their heads and laughing right along with the burly man.

Even if they knew Geik-or was amongst them, they may not speak about such, considering their current...mental state.

Slowly turning his upper body to guide his head to look at the wry-stranger, the mercenary gives a missing tooth grin. "Sorry, aye? Na-...No Geik'ere." Suppressing a doddering chuckle.

~~~~~

At the Door to the Crow Flies Inn.

With a sudden rush of air, the door is pushed open by another newcomer to the inn, and is just as quickly closed behind the new arrival. A burly physique that barely was able to pass through the portal into the inn, matted black hair, a thick beard that nearly was reaching the beings abdomen, and a forge smock was readily present and the scent of steel and fire came with the being. Once within the cast of firelight from within the inn, it was apparent the being was no normal man-but a Half-Giant. Strange looks aplenty were to be found at first, and the tense feeling could be felt in the air, a palpable electricity around the Half-Giant. A long gait carried the giant blooded fellow to the bar with great ease, with each step, its rough shod boot made the floor creak and the trousers it wore jingle like a series of chains-as all manner of smithing implements were hung off the cloth. One large hand tapping the counter to the bar softly to grab the Keepers attention. "Ale." Is all he said to the keeper, not even waiting for a greeting, setting several coin pieces, a mix of silver...either having no clue as to the coins worth or just not caring for it by how quickly he had deposited it upon the counter.

Edited by Theoval

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