Life at the Shiney Coppers
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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._
