Tocharaeh says to Janet, 'Bae lookin' fer ah giftie fer mae wifey'
Tocharaeh asks Janet, 'Got ah bit o' sumfin nyce? Sapphire possibly?'
Janet says, 'I'm sorry, we are all fresh out of our Sapphire goods. The mines have been short, what with the Giant Raids and all.'
Tocharaeh nods sadly.
Tocharaeh says, '- Tenks anyway love. -'
Tocharaeh tips is hat smoothly, and walks back out into the street.
Janet wonders whether this ring would look good on her.
Tocharaeh leaves the jewelry shop, and is instantly soaked in the fresh downpour.
Tocharaeh says, '- Gottae fynd sumfin -'
Tocharaeh says, '- She dun run off onae mae, anae ahy dunae know iffin ahy did 'er wrong -'
Tocharaeh says, '- She bae avoidin' mae, anae ahy gottae patch tings up. -'
Tocharaeh says, '- What'te get 'er ahy wonder -'
Tocharaeh says, '- mebe ah' drink will get te mind fluids rushin en, andae ahy'll bae knowin what'll 'elp fix what'r'e ahy did 'er wrongly. Plus, wit all dis 'ere rain, ahy kinnae do much mae tinks. -'
The dark elf makes his way through the streets, picking the best path through the rush of people also trying to escape the seemingly endless rain. He comes before the Blue Dragon Inn, his old haunt, within a few short breaths, and vanishes inside.
The Blue Dragon Inn
[ Exits: n e s w ]
Situated at the prestigious Yorke Square this small Inn has a rather
distinguished clientele. No riff-raff or scum is allowed in here, in fact
Albert, the landlord is allowing himself the right of choosing his own
customers. There is a muscular guard posted at the entrance, ready to
evict any noisy and disturbing yokels. This Inn is for the privileged.
The atmosphere is pleasant but subdued, in here you seldom hear the
drunken bawling and bellowing so common in less distinguished public
houses. The customers here may brag and boast a bit - in fact this is one
of their favorite pastimes - but at least they do so in a civilized
manner, without raising their voices. You can join the group swapping
stories at the bar, or choose one of the three tables for a more private
conversation with good friends.
A board full of messages hangs on the wall.
|@ Sarias Mithrandr (RolePlaying) is standing here.
[T] The innkeeper Albert beams contentedly at his customers.
Sarias gazes down at her map, on the bar table, in front of her. This woman eyes appeared to spark with irritation. She couldn’t find the damned centaur yet in any of his customary areas. How was she to find and capture him without any traces? She furiously scratched off a few places on the map and slumped over the bar in semi-defeat. She had been gone from her husband for two weeks finding this man, what trouble would ensue if her Sicilian started to gain suspicions? She inhaled a little deeper and let out that breath, while permitting her eyes to relax upon the bartender. “Wine please.” He nodded and progressed towards his stash.
Albert tells her, 'That'll be 21 coins, thanks.'
Sarias buys a goblet.
Coming in from the pouring rain outside, Tocharaeh flips his usual signal to the Innkeep for his drink to meet him at his table. Very preoccupied with the worries that plague his mind, the dark elf makes his way straight to his usual spot.
Sarias’s quill lingers to mark at the map as she takes a mouthful of her wine. Wine was her kryptonite, and was entirely unwholesome for the child she was bearing, but she desired something to wrench her mind off of the doubts she was dealing with. These worrisome emotions were not something that the elf was used to having, and she was situating some blame on the hormones swirling in her system. Her green eyes flickered upwards as she notices the bartender move away. Where was he going? She might need more wine!
Table Two
[ Exits: w ]
The table is rather large, long wooden planks perched on trestles. The
table-top is covered in scrawling and scribbling, much of it seems to
be magic formulas of different kinds. It is debatable however whether any
of these incantations really works in praxis, they seem to be more
doodling than anything else. Very sloppy.
The waitress arrives, and quietly leaves an Amaretto Sour before the dark elf, knowing to expect little and ask nothing, she leaves Tocharaeh to his thoughts.
Tocharaeh says, '- Sapphire ainae gonnae bae enouf. Gottae try sometin'. Ach, all te drow enae mae 'as been worn away. Usually ye gottae problem, just kill et. But shae esae mae wyfe, lyfe, annae mae every'tin. -'
Tocharaeh sighs sadly.
Tocharaeh takes a long sip of his sour drink, and settles into the shadows- sulking.
Tocharaeh removes his Great Wide-brimmed Hat, with large Feather Plumes.
Tocharaeh absent-minded, turns his overly exaggerated hat over and over, playing with the large feather and randomly places gems.
Tocharaeh overcome by his feelings of confusion and hopelessness, he dashes his hat to the side, throwing his drink to the floor. It shatters with a loud clatter.
Tocharaeh shouts, 'Bloody 'ell!'
Tocharaeh shouts, 'Barkeep! Bae needin' another! Mek et quick, mae temper bae ah' short one t'day!'
The waitress rushes in with a new glass and brisky places it before the angry dark elf. She quickly cleans the shattered mess, and it out in a flash.
Tocharaeh sighs sadly looking at the glass before his and knows he hasn't the stomach for it. He leaves a silver for the drinks, and a couple of gold for other compensation, and heads back towards the main bar.
The Blue Dragon Inn
[ Exits: n e s w ]
Situated at the prestigious Yorke Square this small Inn has a rather
distinguished clientele. No riff-raff or scum is allowed in here, in fact
Albert, the landlord is allowing himself the right of choosing his own
customers. There is a muscular guard posted at the entrance, ready to
evict any noisy and disturbing yokels. This Inn is for the privileged.
The atmosphere is pleasant but subdued, in here you seldom hear the
drunken bawling and bellowing so common in less distinguished public
houses. The customers here may brag and boast a bit - in fact this is one
of their favorite pastimes - but at least they do so in a civilized
manner, without raising their voices. You can join the group swapping
stories at the bar, or choose one of the three tables for a more private
conversation with good friends.
A board full of messages hangs on the wall.
|@ Sarias Mithrandr (RolePlaying) is standing here.
[T] The innkeeper Albert beams contentedly at his customers.
The dark elf emerges from his dark table, and says, 'Sorry fer te mess Keep. Bit'o stress as o' late. Left yae proper payment fer ev'ryting.'. He brushes his has slowly and moves to replace it on his sullen head.
Tocharaeh wears a Great Wide-brimmed Hat, with large Feather Plumes on your head.
Sarias perceives something nauseatingly familiar as her ears tune in to the voice. The complexion of her face darkened and she considerably bent her head towards the map. What the hell was he doing in this exact same bar? Did the Gods have some sort of humorous death wish for her? The elven woman bit down on her lip and fiddled with it between her teeth, as she continued to scribble recklessly on the map. He probably did not even notice you there, it is fine. She inaudibly muttered to herself.
The Innkeeper, Albert, walks around the bar nodding understandingly. He and Tocharaeh go back a few hundred years now. He pats the morose dark elf on the shoulders and says, 'What's eating you elf? You ain't your usual self. Much more gray than dark. Business not going well? Ain't talkin' to the old lady?'
With a sigh Tocharaeh responds to Albert, 'Ach, business bae fyb. Boomin' in fact. Costa Nostra ainnae been enae be'r tymes! But, ahy ainae seen mae wyfe fer a fort nite et feels. Dunnae know wut ahy wronged 'er wit. But ahy dun wronged 'er good mae tinks.'
Albert chews a bit on his lower lip and makes a glance over to the woman in question, the source of his friends heartache. But he knows better than to get involved with any drama of costa nostra, and the capo's wife. But he gives her an eye of acknowledgement.
Albter says, 'Well, she'll come 'round I'm sure. Why don't you go back. Finish your drink, relax a bit! If you don't you'll make a slip. Slips get you killed. You know that.'
Tocharaeh nods in defeat, and responds, 'Ach yaer ryte. Best clear mae 'ead first. Could get mae killed iffin ahy didn't. Wise words ye speak Keep. Tenks. Ahy'll return te mae spot.
Sarias clenches the hand, which was not holding her flamboyant quill, into an angry fist. Why was the bartender encouraging him to stay?! He was getting no tip from her tonight – dammit! Perturbed, Sarias surveyed the map in front of her and noticed there were only a few spots she had not checked. Some of those places, were so seedy, even she wouldn’t want to be seen there. Her delicate eyebrows narrowed, while her face kept forward. There was no way in hell she’d let her husband see her tonight, especially when the signs were beginning to show.
Inwardly defeated, Tocharaeh removes his hat once again, and begins to walk back towards his usual spot when something hit him. Acute as his rogue sense are, he realized that Albert keeps glancing back and forth from him to someone else- a hooded figure.
It was not so much the figure being out of place for it was certainly the norm here in Yorke. But, this one appeared, to him, as if possibly trying to remain unnoticed. Since he didn't have anything better to do, 'why not go along with his now piqued curiosity?', he wondered. yes, why not.
The dark elf weaves his way through the crowd silently, and with ease saddles up in a nearby seat, looking forward only. The hood obstructed his view, but maybe after a few words and drinks, he could get past all that obstructing fabric.
Tocharaeh signals for two drinks from the well, meanwhile Albert is dumbfounded. The answer, and plague of the elf is sitting right there, and Tocharaeh doesn't even notice.
Albert places the drinks before Tocharaeh, and briskly returns to the other end of the bar, pretending to clean something or other.
'Share ennae ah' drink friend?', Tocharaeh asks honestly.
Sarias’s heart began to race. Her senses could pick up on the fact that his presence was near. The woman had known him for over two-hundred years, his presence was relatively recognizable. She made assured that the hood was still covering the sides of her face and gritted her teeth together. She would require an escape; she wasn’t quite prepared to reveal herself to him. His looming-self sat beside her and she kept herself focused, only nodding and grasping at the drink the bartender had given her. She wouldn’t drink it yet, less her veil fall.
He smoothly reaches for his own drink with a nod. Good. This is the start he thought. 'Been 'ere long? Annae seen ye abouts affor now. Where ye intendin' mate?' he asked plainly.
Sarias catches another breath in her throat and sets down the glass. The wine reverberates in the glass, almost matching the rate of her heart. This was her only chance to get away. Rapidly, the elf swipes the map off of the table and moves in the opposite direction, making sure her face was turned away from her husband and exits towards the door. As much as she missed his face, she was not secure enough to lie to about the situation without the certain vampiric bastard captured.
Clicking his tongue in failure, Tocharaeh drinks softly. Guess the traveler didn't want to talk. Oh well, at least his mind was less occupied now.
Albert looks up from cleaning a glass with a rag, and watches the woman leave with some disappointment in his eyes. She forgot to pay him! He glowered a bit at the glass, and then decided to take some revenge. "I'm pretty certain, that elven woman, was your wife." He murmured quietly to Tocharaeh before moving onto the next customer. Serves her right!
His ears as keen as ever picked up the quip from the Innkeeper, and nearly choked on his wine. Bloody hell, and a handbag! He thought. Right there this whole time. Tocharaeh stewed darkly and realized he had missed his chance. He placed a few gold coins down, retrieved his hat, and gave a curt twist of his ring. In a flash, he was gone.
