Adventures beginning

[Drake Draven]

(((THis is open to everyone!)))


Most everyone here seemed really rude.

Why? Because the last very tall, imposing looking, man that walked out of the tavern and passed Drake rammed right in to his shoulder. Drake found himself standing in front of a little building that everyone was hastily going in and out of. From the sounds coming from inside, too, he could only surmise that it was some sort of restaurant or inn. That being said..It must have been a tavern.

He lifted his straw hat covered head upwards to take in the complete scene. The sky was the live painting's background. A dark and lack-luster, pastel sort of blue. Almost a steel kind of color. Swathed across the sky indiscriminately were long skinny tendrils of horizontal clouds. The clouds were dark, rain colored clouds, but were much too thin and small to produce any sort of moisture. It could have been a trick of light since the sun was past setting and it was beginning to darken in to night. Yellow light poured out of the windows and the door of the tavern.

Drake wondered why they even had a door with how much it was open apposed to being closed.

He was wearing a wide brimmed, straw hat, that was common for people to wear to keep the sun out of their face. It concealed his face if he kept his head down. At the moment, though, he had his face raised up to look at the building. He couldn't see through straw after all and it was necessary to see where he was going. His expression consisted of raised eyebrows, drooping eyelids, and a slight unsure frown on his lips. Though his lips were hidden through a thick mustache and beard so the frown wasn't as noticeable. Drake was not a looker, in the least, or at least that is what he truly believed. His face was wide, eyes somewhat wide set, a wide thick nose but shorter than most mens. Big square jaw and chin. He kept his beard about six or seven inches long and cleanly washed and combed. His beard glimmered black like a crows wing and straighter than an arrow. The cut of the beard was also more in the shape of his jaw apposed to growing in to a natural point.

He lowered his face again so that it was covered under the hat. Around him he had a cape of thick sandy wool. It covered all of him except his rather large steel toed black boots. He was also very wide shouldered, or so it seemed, and it was evident that something was strapped to his back beneath the cape.

Drake walked forward casually and in to the tavern. Lamplight engulfed him and the warmth of a fire across the room, and the body heat, immediately made him regret his choice in wearing a wool cape everywhere. Within moments he could feel sweat pop up around the skin his beard occupied and underneath his straw hat. No matter, he quickly moved away from the door way and towards the closest wall of the tavern. Obviously all of these tables and chairs would be taken by now, but he had to move away from the door, and hadn't thought about probably having to explain himself to someone. He swallowed a lump that had found its way in to his throat and tried to keep his large thick fingered hands from trembling. Fah! Even his palms were sweating! He noticed that he was standing conveniently by a window seat. Drake sat down quickly so he didn't faint from social anxiety and gawked out the window. The brim of his hat was leaning against the pane and being pushed upwards perhaps a little comically. He didn't notice it. As he had sat down his wool cape had rode up his legs a little. Now apparent were his very thick, burly, lower calves. Black woolen pants covered those thick burly legs and went over his boots. Drake swallowed again as he gazed out at the town through the window.

[Taskmienster]

Night was settling in, and those of the Coronian city of Underwood were slowly making their way back to their respective places of residency. It was a quiet town, filled with lumberjacks and the lower working class, but a town receptive to all. Houses were quaint in their own fashion, simple one story buildings made of the wood and sweat of the citizens. Lars wandered aimlessly through the dirt packed streets, smiling and humming a merry tune as he did so. Every so often he would take a small puff from his cigarette and let the smoke out in intricate, delicate shapes. The acrid taste lingered on his tongue, but the cancerous habit was transformed into a thing of beauty as he toyed with the coding of the virtual reality game. Althanas was becoming more and more simple to change, a fact that led him only to believe that he would forget himself sometime and alert the Administration to his ‘illegal’ presence. Till then though, he thought as he wandered towards the closest tavern, he would enjoy his stay and gather as much as he could of its unique appeal.

He pulled close his leather jacket and straightened it as he pushed aside the door with his shoulder. Eyes turned to him, but their glazed gaze did not bother the hacker. Ethan was accustomed to drunkards, both in game and in real life… it was almost as much a part of his daily endeavors as smoking had become. “HEY!” he yelled emphatically as he entered, and as if on cue most of the denizens of the Peaceful Promenade greeted him equally ardently. One thing about the liquored up that was true no matter where you were, or what world you were in, they were always ready and willing to welcome another to their fold so long as they exhibited a sense of familiarity and happiness.

Hands clapped against his shoulder as he parted the sea of drunken men, as if they were greeting an old friend back. He didn’t know a single soul, as far as he could see, but that didn’t matter to them or him in the long run. The lamps along the wall flickered as the commotion of the common room caused the exposed flame to dance in place. It was as close to home as he could find in the world of fantasy; any tavern was somewhere he could belong. The ambiance was fittingly dim with the amber light barely catching any single table fully before casting itself about the room. Shadows danced like marionettes across the worn tables and stalwart faces, bringing another smile to the hackers face.

“Barkeep,” he intoned with the cacophonous call of the others, “A round when you get the chance! Whenev’s fine by me, no rush mate.” In the mean time he would take up a seat with some stranger and do what he did best, envelope himself in someone else’s private matters or make quick friends and tell grand tales of gods and slain dragons.

Plopping himself in a seat across from an interesting looking fellow with a beard, Ethan smiled and nodded to the man. What race he was, what his intentions in Underwood were – much less Corone during the civil war – did not matter to the man. He had come for a drink with fellows like himself; cheerily he extended his hand to the man. “The names Ethan, most call me Lars though,” he said as he slipped the thin cancer stick out from between his locked lips. He puffed out a series of smoke rings with a smile, showing off as always. “Hope you don’t mind if I help myself to the seat, and share the table. I’m really a friendly person, don’t bite at all… I promise.”

[Drake Draven]

(ooc: Sorry my internet was down I will reply asap! )

[Drake Draven]

The tavern was generally quiet as tavern's went. Slowly the minutes ticked by. Through the thick and warped glass the stars popped out amongst the sky, a pretty scene, one that for some odd reason melted Drake's anxiety away. He began to breathe easier and noticed that once his heart stopped it's racing that he also wasn't sweating as profusely. There was still vast conversation all around him, shouted orders for food and drink, and the occasional tense moment. But for the most part this tavern was very friendly and very calm. Drake loved it. He pulled his face away from the window to notice that the brim of his hat had been pushing against the pane. With a flush on his face he sat back from the window enough for the hat to take on it's normal shape. He turned his face towards the citizens and visitors in the tavern instead of outside and watched as they went about their lives.

It was amazing to Drake that in some rare instances he wasn't noticed. No one looked at him like he was a monster. There were no angry mobs chasing him, accusing him, saying that he killed this person or stole that item. Why people had ever thought those things in the first place had baffled him. He assumed now that it was his father telling lies to try to get him killed. What a sad kind of childhood. One that he couldn't help but think about daily. But even though it had been hard at first, he had been adopted by another man, and all of those memories were good. So Drake, in the end, had to say that his life was pretty average from birth up until this minute.

He felt comfortable enough now to take off his hat. The atmosphere in this tavern was intoxicating. Perhaps he could find a friend or two. He reached up and pulled off his hat, setting it on the table in front of him, the wide brim nearly covered the entire table. After this he made to take off his cape, but the closer his stubby fingers got to the cord tied about his neck, the thicker his anxiety grew. Perhaps it was too soon to reveal himself completely. He stood up off the window seat and pulled out a worn brown leather sack from his back, beneath the cape, and opened it up. A little kitten popped it's head out of the sack and mewled an offensive little mewl. The kind of meow this cat had was one akin to it suffocating or being half dead. Drake smiled affectionately and pulled her out of the sack. The skrawny little kitten in one of his large burly hands looked both amusing and frightening. It would have taken no effort at all for him to crush the thing like a bug. He sat the sack on the floor beside the chair in front of the table. Then he sat down and stuck the kitten in his lap.

She was a tiny little thing, mostly bones, with watery unfocused eyes. Predominantly black with orange speckles and spots, orange stripes over her right leg and face, white chest belly and paws, and two patches of orange tabby like color above the white on her back feet. She blinked her half blind eyes and meowed again. Drake smiled and pet her on the top of her dainty head with his right forefinger. She was meowing because she was hungry. Frantically she started to claw her way up the front of Drake's cape and nuzzled in to his beard. He chuckled and looked about for a servant of some sort to take his order.

Now that his hat was off one could see that his slightly large head was covered in thick black hair like his beard. It was glistening with sweat. The color was, perhaps, one could say crows black. It was black and shone with a sort of whiteness under the light. Pure, deep, black. He had it pulled back in to a tail at the base of his neck. The remaining hair that made up the tail was slightly wavy but of the same thickness and color. It only went a few inches past his shoulders.

When a pretty young girl walked up to him baring a tray in left palm way above her head Drake had no idea what she wanted. It didn't hit him at first that the reason she was standing to his side and staring at him impatiently was because she was waiting for his order. His first reaction was that she was disgusted by his face. Self consciously he lowered his face downwards to look at his cat. When she didn't go away he finally got the idea that she was a serving girl.

"Oh.." Drake's voice was thick and authoritative. Very deep and very strong. Also very easily loud if he didn't pay attention. It was gravelly and hoarse from him not speaking for a few hours.

"Whatever meat you provide, I'll have some of that, please...And some strong ale." He cleared his throat multiple times during this order.

The girl didn't say a word. She just turned and walked back to the bar. Drake watched her walk away and heaved a sigh that relieved the tension that had built up inside of him. This really was a nice place after all. He shouldn't feel so threatened.

Drake plucked the kitten off of the front of his cape and stuck her back in his lap. She purred loudly and rolled on to her back for a belly rub. Drake couldn't resist the invitation and was scratching her belly with his right forefinger as he reached for his hat on the table with his left hand. Just as he was setting his hat on his sack on the floor, the door opened, and the feeling in the tavern seemed to turn electric. Drake had never felt this before in his lifetime and immediately turned in his chair to look towards the doorway.

The man looked like a man. Nothing unusual or outstanding about his features. But even though he looked average when he said hello the tavern answered back like a waiting audience. Drake continued to watch in interest as people clapped him on the shoulders and the back. Women fawned over him as he walked by. Just generally everyone seemed hypnotized by his charisma.

Wouldn't you know it, though, that the man had to come and sit across from him at his table. Drake didn't mind the slightly calm atmosphere of the tavern when people were minding their own business. But this man oozed something akin to honey and the people were fluttering about like bees.

Drake felt like a putrid weed.

But the man never skipped a beat. He sat down and offered his hand to Drake. Not wanting to look completely like the fool he felt like, Drake extended his arm, and took the man's wrist in his thick massive palm. He had never properly learned how to shake hands and this was the only way he knew how to do it. The grip wasn't hurtful but it was firm, and he moved his hand in an upward motion, attempting to shake the man's hand slightly. After this he uncoiled his thick fingers from the mans wrist and withdrew his arm.

He didn't know what to say but he offered a smile anyway to be polite. The servant plopped a big plate of venison in front of him that was smothered in gravy. It made him jump in his seat and he looked up in to her annoyed expression as she sat down the large mug of ale. Drake thanked her and offered a few coins. She took them and was on her way again without a word.

The kitten in his lap started going berserk as soon as her nose caught a whiff of the meat on the plate. She tried to claw her way in to the food herself but Drake held her back with his left hand. With his right he cut up the meat in to pieces with an old knife that was also on the plate. The juggling act was finished when he cut up enough of the meat that he believed would satisfy her hunger. He scraped the chunks off the plate to the table itself, plopped the kitten on the table in front of the chunks, and watched with another chuckle as she dived in. Drake himself began to drink some of the ale to calm his nerves before he ate.

[Taskmienster]

Being a charismatic person was a habit for Lars, where it seemed to be a chore for others. He was not one to take life too seriously, tended to jump into other’s affairs without a bat of his eye, and always liked to meet new people. The best part of Althanas – it being a gaming server filled with other virtual reality gamers from across the world – was that he would meet and make friends with dozens of people he would have otherwise never met. The man across from him, probably new to the game (and therefore reality of the world) was quiet and seemed aloof. His bearded face was drawn, his voice had the feel of a cobweb strewn tomb hardly opened and often subjected to the upper reaches of an abandoned bookshelf. Lars grasped the man’s meaty forearm and clenched almost as firmly as the man had, without a name to go with the greetings though the hacker was at a loss as to what to do next.

The man’s uncoiled, steel-like fingers retreated to the food that had come but seconds before. The veil dish was aromatic, letting off a mouthwatering scent that was in sharp contrast to the acrid smoke flavor his cigarette offered. He watched, as unobtrusively as he could, as the man cut a portion of the food and pushed it off the worn steel plate. As soon as he had finished he produced that which his opposite hand had till then been so fitfully holding back. The kitten took its place on the table, gobbling at the pristine scraps the man had offered it.

“Little glutton,” the hacker laughed as he tried to pet the tiny cat. It was uninterested in social contact, slipping away from Ethan’s fingers. The hacker laughed and let the kitten be while it enjoyed its meal. Lars distractedly looked about the room, watching the gales of laughter echo through the crowd. It was the most comforting part of any tavern, even if you did not happen to hear the joke joining in was always welcome, encouraged at times. He chuckled, not so much for hearing the joke himself but for the simple fact that seeing so many inebriated and happy people was all he needed to be amused.

“Here you are love,” the waitress said as she put a pint of thick ale in front of the hacker. Her smile was intoxicatingly beautiful, her teeth straight and almost as perfect as Lars’ own. Thick, cherry lips parted as her smile grew wider. The hacker’s own widened as he gently placed a coin in her soft palms, his finger sliding softly on the outside of her hand. “You need anything else?”

“Not right now doll, but I’ll be sure to call you if I do.” The woman turned and received a playful pat on her butt as she did. She giggled, a reaction not unlike that which she would give any other person in the tavern in an attempt to gain a little more of a tip. Lars doubted she was doing it to pull more coin out of him though. After almost running into a wandering drunk, while turned to give a parting smile over her shoulder, she straightened her skirt and blouse and went on her way. The hacker took a quick sip from his ale and let the flavor mingle with the sharp cigarette taste, sour at first but the ale quickly overpowered it.

“Cute cat,” he said with a smile as he turned back towards the rough man on the other side of the table. “Does it, or you for that matter, have a name? I’m a generally cheery person, so you’ll have to forgive me if I’m intruding…”

((Oh, and try not to post anything that is not IC. If you want to make an OOC note do so like this... it tends to distract and detract from the flow. Private Messages work well too...))

[Drake Draven]

Watching Myrrh gulp down the food amused Drake and made a funny fuzzy feeling deep in his chest. It was a pleasant sensation, one that brought a great smile to his face, made him feel warm but not hot. The comment about her being a glutton further heightened his mood because she was indeed just that. He chuckled as he watched the little skrawny cat lovingly.

For a few more moments he watched her eat and her stomach swell before he started in on his own food. The large mug of ale that had been placed in front of him was already half empty. Not because he desired to get drunk or unaware of the world, but because he was thirsty and, had learned long ago that asking for water in places like this was like asking for dishwater or bathwater. It was usually near putrid and filthy. Drake would much rather prefer boiled water, fresh snow, or the rain itself pouring down over his head. The way he held the knife and cut the pieces, speared them, brought them to his mouth and chewed was all very slow and polite. Not only this but he seemed to do it unconsciously. He had been taught manners at a table even if those manners lapsed when it was just he and Myrrh out in the wilderness. The food was very very good and an extravagant treat for one used to the bland fire-roasted birds and hare and other woodland fare usually available. He got caught up in the taste and relished in as he chewed his mouth watered and demanded for another bite. An abstract thought in the back of his head was saying that he was being rude and just as gluttonous as the cat. Drake ignored it until the sharp jab of his hunger was sated enough to slow down.

He cleared his throat to dispel the tickle of anxiety that was starting to crawl up his arms. To bide a little more time and to think of something else to say he took a long swig of the ale. Then he sat it slowly back to the table.

"Forgive me, it's been a long time since I've been around others. My manners are starting to rust." He apologized to the man in front of him. His voice was just as unusual as the rest of him. Reminiscent of thunder or a rockslide on a mountain. Very dwarf-like.

"My name is Drake Draven and this, my companion on my travels, is Myrrh." He gestured with his right hand towards the kitten. His hand open and his palm facing outwards. Then he lowered his hand.

The way he spoke was very polite and kind, but awkward, since he hadn't lied about the social contact. He had never really met someone this friendly before right off the bat so it was throwing him for somewhat of a loop. Not to say that he didn't appreciate it. It was just different and would take a little while to get used to. He grabbed the mug once more and finished off the rest of the ale before deciding to try a conversation.

"Are you a traveler or do you live here?" It seemed like an innocent enough question. Perhaps he could have worded it a little better. But he wasn't a bard or a poet. Just a simple man that had been taught manners and other times had them beaten in to him. But right now he wasn't going to let thoughts of his past dampen his good mood. He was trying to come out of his shell so to say and make his first friend. Well, besides his adopted father and Myrrh, that is.

[Taskmienster]

The man’s obvious lack of social contact was self-evident. He dug into his meal and left the question lingering and with it the man who had asked. Lars smiled anyway and sipped at his ale. A light flitter of laughter escaped from him, in almost a giggle, as he watched a pair of drunken fae hop up on a table and begin to dance. The audience cooed in their inebriated way as they clapped along and sang along with a jovial, well known drinking song. The two danced and spun, kicking mugs and empty plates, almost catching patrons with their thin little wings. Dheathain was apparently not a heavy drinking country, for the little twats could barely hold their single pint down.

The man’s final response was almost unexpected, somewhat startling. His voice was deep and heavy, but fit his beard at the very least. Ethan turned back to his new friend and smiled as best he could while inhaling another pull from his cigarette. The man nodded back to Drake and looked at the small cat amusedly. “It is wonderful to meet you both!”

He took the cig from between his lips and ashed it onto the floor. What was another small mess, one that would be ground into the worn slick floor anyway, when so many people were spilling not only their ale but too their food. The cute waitress would have her hands full cleaning up after the group, but in the Promenade every night was a party… and they made enough off their name alone to pay for the women that worked to do a little clean up when necessary. Lars swung his legs back over the bench and under the table to face Drake.

“I’m an interesting character,” he responded with a laugh as he took a few heavy gulps from his mug. “To answer your question all I can say is I’m an out-of-towner. Not from Underwood, or the surrounding woods, hell not even from Corone. But I’ve been around here so long I might as well be a native. I’m just a wanderer to some degree, enjoy my fun and adventure whenever I can get it.”

The hacker twisted and popped his lower back. “Ahh, that’s better… sorry, I’ve been trying to get those damned bones to pop for a while now.” He took another pull from his mug and continued. “So, what’s up with you? You a traveler or what? I assume you’re not from around here, unless it’s the mountains or something… your voice is heavy and your appearance something different than what I’m used to seeing. Of course, I’m not exactly the best to be judging that kind of thing.”

Lars tugged at his leather jacket and fluffed the fir lining as if to emphasize his uniqueness. Another inhale and the cig was about halfway done. He tapped it on the table and waited a response.

[Taskmienster]

This thread has been sitting since before the beginning of this year (2009). Since no response has been made to create activity I am going to be moving this. If you would like it to be reopened please feel free to PM myself or another admin and they will be able to move it for you back to the Peaceful Promenade.