Life at the Shiney Coppers
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Quelcoth and Alucard both enter the coppers, adorned in fullplate and in blood. They walk to the bar, order drinks and retire to the back rooms. They were in a cheerful mood, or as cheerful as can be for Banes servents
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One day recently Quelcoth and Cray were seen walking into the Coppers, both of them surrounded by the glitterings and glowings of magical defenses indicative of recent combat or adventure.
The pair pulled chairs up to the fire and just sat around a while, chatting it up with some of the other regulars.
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Another lazy evening at the Coppers, Kyan and Mystic talking about her Spell Weave initiation project and general boredom, when a green and black helmed and… what appeares by the lack of cloth and shape of the figure a woman comes by. Her voice a bit distorted through the helm possibly by magical intentions.
With sudden peaked curiosity Mystic jumps of her chair and slips into Kyan’s lap offering the woman to sit and join their company. Both Kyan and Mystic tries to invite her to conversation, she doesn’t say much and after a while gets up and leaves murmuring something like.. “ I be useless where ever you plan to go anyways” an walks out the door
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@c3fb2cc144=Davidnwn:
Alucard sits quietly watching everything in the coppers with a bemused look, his sword never far from his hand. Whenever anyone comes storming in((such as the above mentioned elf)) he goes for the blade. Yet whenever this happens it does not seem to be what he is waiting for and returns it to his scabbard.
With a heavy determined push the door to the coppers fly wide open and through it two heavy distinct foot steps of metal hitting down on the wooden tavern floor attracts the attention to an armed fully plated covered elven warrior entering the inn.
Primarily he throws his stern glare towards the elf who entered the inn just prior to Eléndel before his focus suddenly switched to Alucard who discretely shakes his head slowly. As a consequence the armored warrior turns to leave without a word
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The elf and Fabian, the elf mentioned as being named Dust, speak quietly in a corner about some important matter. Obviously, there is some dire thing involved, their expressions appear serious. Fabian appears confident but Dust has an appearance of frustration and worry, his handsome elven features marred by a furrowed brow and severe expression.
Once Mystic leaves, Dust expresses his apologies for chasing such a beautiful woman off which hopefully Fabian accepts. Dust leaves soon after, pushing his hands through his hair as he tries to figure out a plan to deal with the issue they are both facing. Before he does leave he turns back to Fabian."If it is between you and her, do what you have to do. I'm not trading one of my own for someone who has not sworn their allegiance and may never. Speak to …well you know who." He nods to Cray and leaves.
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Alucard sits quietly watching everything in the coppers with a bemused look, his sword never far from his hand. Whenever anyone comes storming in((such as the above mentioned elf)) he goes for the blade. Yet whenever this happens it does not seem to be what he is waiting for and returns it to his scabbard.
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Mystic enters the coppers and immediately spots Fabian by the bar, she calls out. "Bring a bottle of wine and come sit with me by the fire!"
She purrs delighted as he comes serving and as they settles she askes him."So tell me now what have you been up to?"
Suddenly an elf comes storming in, demanding to speak with Fabian on an urgent matter. A soft sigh escape her as she is left alone with a glass of wine pouting."Very well, come steal my afternoon entertainment."
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Upon close inspection, Cray appears human. Except his skin is very pale, almost a light gray colour, with a marble looking pattern.
He is pleasant and proper. He seems curious about new people, though remains slightly guarded, always observing his surroundings.
_Well the blooded started in a small town called Arnath, located roughly below the old town of Norwick. What's now called the old Norwick runes.
However Arnath was deeper down than Oscura. And was about a 'alf days hoiken from the surface. One way down, started in the Norwick graveyard.
The blooded were treated unfairly boy some of the surface folk back then. At one point the Norwick Militia would monitor the crypt exit, and arrest anyone caught coming out to the surface.
Never caught oi though._
Winks
_But Arnath was eventually overrun boy the Drow and is now home to some hook horrors and the loike.
So we moved 'ere to Oscura.
Which worked out in the end…. With access to the icelace lake, trade 'as boomed 'ere and we've far outgrown our moddest roots.
If your looking for some civic proide... You can serve the troibunal directly via the board of bounty, or per'aps troy and join the Peacekeepeers even._
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"Does Oscura need peace? Seems just fine by me as it is, people know their place here. They know where they stand and aren't going to risk their lives to revolt, to cause trouble. But maybe it is because of men like you."
He gestured to Cray with an easy smile breaking his features, an elf with hard eyes indeed. They were like obsidian stones glittering there and he took in the worth of this fellow across the table from him. It was hard to tell but he did know one thing, the worth of the man's choice in smoking. And that was impeccable and caused him to slump back in the chair and exhale toward the dark ceiling.
"Be so kind to tell me of this place? I admit, I'm too new. But let's just say I want to adopt some civic pride."
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Cray smiles plainly.
Peacekeeper of Oscura, at your service.
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He breathed in deep of the velvet smoke and leaned back to savor the flavor of slow burning leaves at the back of his throat. There was a peaceful expression to his face, a rare thing for the elf but it was brought on by the finer things in life. The curve of the hip of a beautiful woman, the splash and pour of a lovingly created whiskey, and the smell of good smoke.
"Peacekeeper Cray. Well, you hand these out and i would see a dramatic drop in violence in these lands. Please, call me Dust.Tell me Cray, who do you keep the peace for?"
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Cray, Burrbag, and Fabian; meandered into the Coppers looking weary from adventure. Whatever their endeavor, one could tell it was succesful by the way they carried on. Cray smoked his usual stogie to relax, and Fabian was sipping wine.
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@033fb947b9=therealorion:
Inverness Cashail, an attractive dark haired elf currently nursing a wound to his arm, takes a brief rest on the coppers. In his hand is a stack of letters and he smiles to Cray and his cigars. He sits heavily at the table near him, wearied from fighting, and begins to work his through the letters before him. Ten total.
"May I trouble you for one of those cigars, they smell like you have good taste.
His laughter came easy, seemingly with more ability to show emotion than his fellows.Cray peers at him from behind a veil of cigar smoke, with narrowed eyes a moment. Then Cray waves off the thick bright white smoke, revealing a plain smile.
Aye, course ye can mate.
Cray opens up a tiny black humidor, that's just about full, containing roughy a dozen cigars. A short burst of a coffee aroma shoots forth. Cray's slender pale marble looking fingers gently slink a cigar from the box and hands it over to him with a hint of enthusiasm.
Enjoy. Tis a foine smoke. Ye'd be 'ard pressed to foind a better'un.
_The cigar is hugged by a stunning, triple-fermented Connecticut shade wrapper that’s been well aged a few years. The construction is flawless, making for a nice even burn. Expect volumes of beautiful, aromatic, silky white smoke with nuances of rich tobacco flavors, hints of coffee, creamy undertones, and a subtle sweetness.
Cray's demeanor is pleasant and curious._
Oi'm Peacekeeper Cray.
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The rich robe of red velvet set off the golden locks of hair drifting about her shoulders as Mystic was enwrapped in a casual and friendly conversation with Kyan, catching up with time past. A golden plated young man strode into the tavern, wasting little time addressing them. His defensive stance and air of drama caught them slightly off guard, but also provided them with shared look of amusement. An offer to sit was quickly extended, and an intriguing conversation ensued.
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Inverness Cashail, an attractive dark haired elf currently nursing a wound to his arm, takes a brief rest on the coppers. In his hand is a stack of letters and he smiles to Cray and his cigars. He sits heavily at the table near him, wearied from fighting, and begins to work his through the letters before him. Ten total.
"May I trouble you for one of those cigars, they smell like you have good taste.
His laughter came easy, seemingly with more ability to show emotion than his fellows.
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_Cray and Storn were resting their feet aside the fire, conducting idle banter. Cray puffing on a dark cigar and Storn slurping a dark ale.
A hin fello with the look of a pugilist scampered into the Coppers, he was an ornery bloke. Cray and Storn attempted to warmly welcome the new face through chit chat. The little man would have nothing of it, and he abruptly sat at a table by himself.
On another note… Lathouz and Cray were also spotted earlier that evening basking in the glow of the fire, having a monotone conversation of days gone by, both wearing sullen expressions._
