The Sword and Staff [All Welcome]

[Rayleigh]

Buildings constructed of worn wood and crumbling clay tiles loom tall against the gloom of late evening. Crows call, and horses reply with low, throaty nickers and muffled stomps of feathered hooves. Unable to hold back any longer, the black clouds give, and cold raindrops pelt the hard-packed earth. Thunder murmurs warning of the approaching storm. It is only in one building that candles wink from windows, flickering cheerfully behind stained glass. A wooden sign depicting a crossed sword and staff swings on its post above the door, beckoning to the weary traveler. Something about the tavern comforts the small farming community of Rochdale. Perhaps you might find some peace as well, as you escape the darkness for a while.

Jump in whenever you desire. Short, fast-paced action is encouraged. Bunnying is discouraged. All participants will receive standard posting rewards, plus the 3x Althanas Day modifier.

[Cards of Fate]

If anything epic was going to happen, it was in a tavern on a rainy night. This was an absolute truth known to any DM, Roleplayer, storyteller, or Mystic. Something about rainy nights drew heroes and villains to chance encounters, the sort of things that set the future alight with possibility.

Vincent was also stupid cold and really hated the rain. So, as he sat sopping wet and shivering, he had devised a cleaver plan. Sit and make the magic happen. Right now it was incredibly empty, but at any moment he was almost sure that some of the worlds best and worst were about to stroll through that door.

[FennWenn]

Rain! Raaaiiin!

Fenn fled frantically through the thick of the downpour; puddles splashed, his cloak was soaked, and his hair was a limp as a used mop. A black-furred direwolf mutt followed behind him, ignoring the rain yet whining her concern. Both knew that water was not good for the frosty little fae. His natural cold iced stray water over like you wouldn't believe. So when Fenn and Daugi burst through the worn wooden door of the Sword and Staff, their only concern was escaping the awful deluge.

The soaked fae dove beneath a table and started to wring the water out of his clothes. His shirt was already partially crunchy with ice -- itchy, sharp! Daugi wasn't quite small enough to follow him under, so she flopped over next to the table. Glassy puddles formed underneath both of them.

Fenn became faintly aware that he had ducked into a tavern -- good! Maybe he could order some drinks as soon as he was no longer in danger of becoming a dumb block of ice.

[Rayleigh]

The building stood like a beacon in the night, light streaming from the windows, slicing through the heavy darkness. Rochdale was eerie tonight, there was really no other way to describe it. Perhaps some of it was Rayleigh's paranoia, conjuring up demons from spaces that were nothing more than shadows. More likely, however, was that her own foul mood was dampening her evening even more thoroughly than the downpour. She hunched her shoulders against the rain, not bothering to cinch her jacket, as it was soaked through anyway. Rain, she didn't mind too much. It was somewhat soothing, and she always enjoyed listening to it drum on the roof. While she was curled up in bed. Warm.

It was the cold Ray couldn't stand. She also hated horses, like the mare she rode in on. And the fact that tending to that mare in the spooky stable was the reason why she was soaked through, and stomping through the puddles on her way toward the Sword and Staff. And that Vince had gone inside to "save a table," leaving his two female companions to look after his horse. "I'm going to kill him," she muttered darkly.

Nicolette's voice came soft and light, a sort of warmth against the wind and rain. How was she always so calming? Ray thought, managing to be annoyed by that too. "If only I had a gold piece for every time you said that," the blonde told Ray.

Overcome with the urge to comment on Nicolette's wealth, Rayleigh busied herself with yanking open the door to the inn and trudging inside. Nicolette followed close behind.

[Atzar]

Rain bothered Atzar less than most. On the all-important list of “Things Solvable with Magic”, it ranked pretty low. The droplets parted before they reached him, as if thwarted by an invisible tent. There was a price, of course. Blood welled around the small iron barb he pressed into his thumb, dripping at intervals and becoming lost in the mud. But the wizard had no such solution for hunger. He approached the tavern in the rural, dismal settlement of Wherever-He-Was in search of food. The town had seen better days; sunshine would have done little to brighten up the creaky, crumbly buildings as they lost their battle with time. But the place offered light, warmth, and a bite to eat.

Old boards croaked underfoot as the wizard stumped into the tavern and seated himself at one of the vacant stools nearby. It was no great chore to keep the rain off his back, but still, he was glad to be free of the task for a while. And a hot meal and cold drink would be grand. He requested a beer and a bowl of stew, ignoring the other patrons for now. Perhaps he’d seek company or entertainment later, but for now, Atzar was more interested in his stomach.

[Revenant]

Wood clapped like thunder as the front door swung violently open, spilling wind and rain into the Sword and Staff and nearly taking a passing customer off his feet. The sodden mess that was William Arcus quickly followed it, his thick leather cloak dumping more water over the threshold as the beaded drops rolled from it's oiled surface. Opposite him, the affronted patron caught his balance, puffed out his chest, and glared at William. The door swung shut behind them and sealed with a soft click.

"Who in Haida barges into a tavern like that?" the customer shouted, gesturing curtly at the now closed door. "And look at the mess you've brought in!"

William rolled his eyes from the man to the puddle spreading away from his feet and then back up to the angry man. He frowned in angry exasperation, as if having to deal with the situation he'd created was beneath him. Then William changed, his eyes flared up with glowing heat, resembling two searing coals. His skin blackened and cracked, the rips curling open at the edges to reveal glowing fire laced beneath. Heat blossomed out from his charred form with such forceful intensity that the water around him bubbled and steamed. Within a few seconds nothing was left of the dripping mess that William had brought in, and shortly thereafter the burning form faded away, torn flesh resealing and eyes fading from bright orange to regular brown.

William cocked a questioning eyebrow but the man was already fleeing his way across the tavern floor. With a grumpy harrumph, William pushed his way to the bar and ordered a cold glass of bitters.

[Cards of Fate]

"Over here!" Vince quipped raising an arm and gesturing for the two lovely women to join him. "I got us a good spot by the hearth!" A slight grin was plastered over his face. He couldn't quite remember how he'd finally suckered Nicolette into joining his group, but it had worked and she had become a sort of shining beam of cool headedness in the otherwise rowdy group of heroes. Ray was also in a right foul mood, that much was easy to gleam from her facial expressions, which would be difficult to handle but not impossible to change. "Food and Drink is on me tonight, so go ahead and order if you're hungry." His fingers drummed nervously on the table as he sized up the rest of the people in the tavern. Fenn was scampering about, and while normally Vince would be all over keeping the little guy out of trouble, he would be busy keeping HIMSELF out of hot water. The other two were...familliar? Vince felt that he should have at least heard of them, but again, his mind was...preoccupied.

[Rayleigh]

Ray made her way toward Vincent, her boots making an ugly sploosh noise with each footfall. Droplets fell from her waterlogged attire, splattering across the well-swept wood floor. She was making a mess, but it did not bother her in the slightest. All she worried about was the warmth of the crackling fire. That, and giving Vincent an earful about the treatment. "You bet your ass the food and drink are on you," she told him, climbing directly onto the stone hearth itself. Her small body fit snugly there, in the space just before the pile of logs. Her emerald eyes slipped behind closed lids as she focused on the heat. She still shook inside the oversized coat, but she took great pleasure in the steam that rose from the thick fabric as she baked. She was altogether too close to the fire, but no one said anything. Most likely, for fear of their own lives.

Rayleigh left Vincent to sit in silence, opening her eyes only when the waitress approached. "What can I get you?" the apron-clad woman asked, remaining a few steps away, so not to be as close to the fire.

"Something warm," came the brunettes answer. "Soup, maybe?"

The waitress nodded, then asked, "and to drink?"

Rayleigh let her eyes flit to Vincent for just a moment. "A bottle of your most expensive drink, please."

As the waitress bustled away, Ray's look of smug amusement melted into confusion. An enormous beast and a tiny person sat a few tables away.

"Who let the kid in here?"

[FennWenn]

There! Comfortably dry.

Well, as much as he was going to get. The boy made a face and flicked away some of the ice droplets that stuck to his toes. There was still some dampness to his hair, and some ice clinging to his skin an clothes. It would do. Now that Fenn was no longer in danger of becoming a living statue, he poked his head out from under the table and glanced around, his buggy green eyes shining with curiosity. From this side of the room, he could see a lot of people. There was spooky tall man, and some pretty ladies, and-

“Who let the kid in here?”

Fenn narrowed his gaze and huffed. He let his own damn self in, that was what! At some point, someone was going to give him the boot, weren’t they? No kids allowed in taverns. But, Fenn wasn’t a kid (he pretended)! He crawled out from under the table and swung to fac- oh gods, that woman was sitting with Vincent. The boy froze. Somewhat literally; frost crept up his arms in jagged, frightful patterns. He hadn’t talked to Vince since the Amari incident. A lot had happened since then.

You know what? He just wouldn’t talk about it. It would be fiiine… right after pulled the sleeves of his cloak over his wrists, that was.

A moment of adjustment- better now.

With Daugi harumphing and trailing after, Fenn stealthily slunk over to Vincent and the child-pointing-out lady’s table, stealing a seat near the Tarot’s leader. Maybe that would prevent him from getting kicked out of the establishment. He wanted some food too!

[Cards of Fate]

Ray was in a foul mood, that much was clear. He resisted the knee jerk reaction he had when Ray ordered, but then she pointed out Fenn. The small child turned around and joined them, probably looking for shelter from the staring eyes. That was fine, except he was being AWFULLY suspicious. He had that walk like a child who'd just knocked baseball into old man jenkins yard, and was too afraid to say anything. Too much slinking, but like a kind father, Vince would wait until old man jenkins beat on his door to say anything.

Let him stew.

"Ray, this is Fenn! He's a newer member of the Tarot. Fenn, meet Ray! She's one of the veteran members of the Tarot. She joined back before I was even an Arcana if you could believe that."