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Post by Lord Ainvar Hrothgarsson on Feb 12, 2014 13:29:59 GMT
Returning from a recent trip to the Harbour of Rhye, Ainvar steps into the inn. Admiring the warm, orange glow from the fires, a welcomed contrast in such a grey Winter's day. Taking a moment before heading toward the White Keep, he sits himself at the table closest to the hearth and motions to the barkeep, 'mulled wine, and keep it coming'. Draping his cloak on his chair, Ainvar pulls out a roll of parchment and begins to read it over, packing his traveler's pipe with the sweet, dark herb known as pipeweed.
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Post by santoro on Feb 12, 2014 23:39:55 GMT
Slowly slinking into the tavern comes a green hooded figure. He queitly walked over to his table. As the bar madien made her way through the billowing smoke coming from the sheriff's massive pipe, the hooded figure lowered his scowl. From behind this heavy hood came a grin from Champion Santoro. "Bar maid!" he laughed, "A round on myself for my fellow men!"
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Post by Lord Ainvar Hrothgarsson on Feb 13, 2014 21:21:08 GMT
Ainvar smirks at his kinsman, 'Well met my friend! Wench, come fill my horn up with more drink!'.
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Post by santoro on Feb 14, 2014 3:58:17 GMT
"Thine own shreriff Ainvar! What a pleasent suprise! I was just by your office looking for you! I figure my invatation to the pub was well met!" Santoro grabbed Ainvar by the arm and greated him with honor. Slamming down his wooden tankard and helping himself to a chunk of bread. "What brings my sheriff down to ol drinking hole?"
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Post by Adoven Leoros Bloodwynd on Feb 14, 2014 5:24:12 GMT
Arriving inside the cozy tavern of the White Stag, Regent Adoven looked on to see his fellow officers enjoying themselves. He tossed a few coins at the bar maiden 'Mead, your Reserve brand'. He tipped his ridiculously ostentatious hat at Champion Santoro and Sheriff Ainvar, smiling as he did so.
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Post by Lord Ainvar Hrothgarsson on Feb 14, 2014 16:31:58 GMT
Puffing on his pipe, Ainvar gives a friendly nod towards Adoven. Downing a mouthful of mead, he turns to Santoro, 'Just taking a moment before heading to the Keep, what about yourself?'.
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Post by santoro on Feb 14, 2014 19:42:28 GMT
Santoro smiled a warm greeting to his fellow officer Adoven. As Santoro turned back to his ale and took a small sip from his cold brew, his face became serious. "While you were away my sheriff, I happened to come apon some terrible news". His vioce became lower and his presence grew darker than the night shadow. "I have visited the outlying villagers of our town." The presence in the tavern shifted towards the two dark figures. "Perhaps we should continue this conversation in a more suited environment". As Santoro lifted his head and viewed the tavern, noise grew into a roaring lion. "Mayhaps the news I bring should not be shared in such a traveled location. Should we continue it in your office sheriff? Bar maid!" Santoro tossed a couple coins on the table. "Send the boy with some mead to the sheriff's office! The candle shall be dim by the time our meeting is over and I shall need some mead to fix my parched throat from all this talk!"
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Post by Lord Ainvar Hrothgarsson on Feb 14, 2014 20:30:43 GMT
Ainvar nods to Santoro, 'Aye, to my chambers in the Keep. I have lingered here for too long. Come, I have some business with the blacksmith, and I shall meet you at the White Keep'. Ainvar stands, throws his cloak onto himself and moves toward the door, pushing it open to greet the chilly afternoon. Mounting his horse, the man heads for the White Keep.
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Post by santoro on Feb 14, 2014 21:56:00 GMT
As Santoro jumped from his chair he shouted towards the burly grey figure "So a race it shall be! Thank you barmaid for the ale. If anyone should need myself or the sheriff you may find us both at the keep." And so Santoro raised his tankard and drank it bone dry. As he busied his way to the door he heard someone smirk from behind him as he stumbled his way out.
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Post by scarecrow on Feb 15, 2014 7:57:59 GMT
Coming from the piers that housed the ships, Scarecrow (his birthname long forgotten) had rounded a corner, and spied a few familiar figures leaving to what sounded like private chambers in the white keep. "well, I'd best catch up if i want to hear what all this fuss is about." he muttered to himself, as he slinked back into the shadows, seemingly evaporating into thin air amongst the shadows.
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Post by Adoven Leoros Bloodwynd on Feb 15, 2014 8:11:42 GMT
Downing his drink after Santoro and Ainvar had left for a time, the elf smiled and thanked the barmaid for the drink. Making his way through the throng of patrons and inn workers, pausing every so often to nod a polite hello to a few whom greeted him, Adoven set out back towards the Keep. He mainly was about to do this to collect some personal effects from his office and perhaps get a few swings at the straw and wood dummies in the training yard… time permitting of course. He did not take note of the two aforementioned shady figures, his attention occupied elsewhere.
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Post by archonnocturnus on Feb 24, 2014 8:44:29 GMT
The door opens and a bearded elf enters. He is dressed in war gear, blue pants and top, coif and chain, shield on back, pole in hand dagger and sword on side. His horns pop out slightly. He moves to a table and stands on it, making sure no one is at the table. Following behind him is a Raptor(Lizard not bird) who is obviously trained, as he follows the man.
Archon Nocturnus: It has been said there are beasts to kill and people to save. I have come to lend a hand. I hope I am not too late.
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Post by archonnocturnus on Feb 25, 2014 7:30:18 GMT
Jump into a chair and sits waiting for a shot.
"Hey any of you know where I can find the people looking to do something about these beastmen? I had a few people send me word that they attacked again, and may have injured the pride of some of my clan, I would love to avenge them in that if you just send me the right way."
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Post by Fianna Dragonfly on Feb 25, 2014 19:28:09 GMT
"I know!" a young boy carrying a tray from table to table piped up. "I think that the old Regent is down at the docks, least ways I saw him heading that direction a while back. And every time there's any kind of attack our Sheriff takes some time in the Sacred Grove. You wanna drink, mister?"
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Post by archonnocturnus on Feb 25, 2014 23:39:33 GMT
"Yeah let me get a shot of whisky."
Nocturnus sits and thinks. Groves are his thing, though he hasn't run into a sacred grove in the locks before, as far as he knew the closest groves where his and the one that was destroyed. He takes his shot and sets down 10 talons, hopping while it is a more than fair amount where he was from that the money converted correctly here and walks out the door, his raptor behind.
::Moving to the docks::
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