The Tavern

[speakeroftruths]

[Borivoi]

Shrugging Hlokk's comment off as the product of mead and blood loss, Borivoi grins at the prospect of yet more food, especially a dish he had not yet tried. And swift, dreamless sleep sounds like just the thing to work off the stress and wounds of the day.

"Have fun with smith! Do not stay up late, you need rest as well."

Having sent Hlokk off with a cheery wave, he nods appreciatively to Saoirse for her commentary, and shakes his head at Joseph's call for work.

"Aiee, so eager. You need rest too. Take some time, talk with people. Mayhem is well and good with just cause, but remind yourself why. Did not get that in Army. Is advantage to being alone, can actually see why you fight. Look around. People here are alive today, might not be tomorrow if we had not fought. That is worth celebration. So, until next time mayhem is called for, drink, eat, make merry!"

[ricarditoreyes]

[Joseph]

He chuckles at Saoirse's recommendation. "Way ahead of ya." he says, as he raises the flask that he'd already filled a while back before the course arrived. "Reckon this'll keep me goin' on the field. Definitely better than the 'pisswater' we had to make do with earlier," he says, gesturing to Borivoi in reference.

He returns to consuming the luxurious delights in front of him. They kept coming, and he wasn't complaining. If this feast was to go on forever, he'd continue to enjoy it forever, simple as that. He is only pulled out of his gluttonous concentration as Borivoi addresses his comment with one of his own.

"Yeah, s'pose some rest couldn't hurt. Not like 'em beasts and bandits are goin' anywhere," he says, as he takes Bori's comment quite literally and looks around. Men and women, soldiers, bandits, it did not matter here. They were alive. He doubted that their actions alone led to this, but Borivoi definitely had a point. "Damn. Never thought of it that way. You make one hell of a point there," he says, turning back to face his companions. "Well then, let us drink! We've deserved it, after all". He raises his mug as a wide grin flies across his face seamlessly.

"We've buried 'em scum down in the dirt where they belong. To our lives, our blades, and to the lives we saved!"

[EloHim]

[Elorit/ ? ? ?]
“We are not toys stuck in children’s sandbox anymore, Sonya. “Alchemist”. “Butcher”. “Seer”. Gone are the times when those nicknames meant more than the set of skills behind them. I'm Elorit, you’re Sonya. Simple as that.”- Digging deeper than was needed. That's what got this place to such a state. And now she was doing it too? What was that obsession with nicknames?
They are no toys. No strings are tying them down anymore... and even if there are strings - what does it matter, in the grand scheme of things?

[lunardusters]

"Not in the sandbox.. if that's the case.. Elorit," The name feels.. somewhat foreign. Uncomfortable.
"How are we here, then?"

After a beat of silence, lack of response, she sighs. "Whatever. I suppose it doesn't matter. Even if we are being manipulated again, challenging fate is easier said than done. We're bound by different rules than we were before. Our horseman of choice here is not Pestilence, but Death, or perhaps Conquest."

Another pause. She thinks.

"I've heard of.. that estate. The gold and trinkets both there and everywhere else here. Perhaps that's our objective."

[rosallora]

"Oh aye," she says with a slight drawl, "I'm not goin' anywheres soon." Saoirse can't help herself. She takes another drink from her cup and sniffs when something new comes into her senses. It was Hook - carrying that fish that Hlokk had talked about (bragged about?) and when it gets set onto the table, she doesn't waste time. She cuts through the bread and removes a shimmering, beautiful cut of it, laying it down onto her plate - which had been neglected until now.

She thinks about commenting on the mint, but thinks less of it, picking a bit of the herb to the side and leaving it on the edge of the tin plate.

When Joseph makes his toast, she nods to him, reaffirming her cup in the air with a slight shake. Nothing like drinking to dead friends, is there. Of course, it wasn't dead friends to them.

Saoirse huffs a breath, then pops another carrot and tries to forget her woes. "Gonna be tuckin' in soon I'd bet... we'll all sleep like rocks tonight."

[rosallora]

[Ezekiel]

"Damned betrayer," he mutters, taking a drink from his cup. "A brother should never betray another! Or... a sister, rather." He nods briefly to Kat, then looks back to Semyon. "What a terrible thing for you to go through, my friend! But there is a cure! It comes in a cup and it also can be found in a bed - a sleep where the dreams will soothe you! You will see your bravery in new light when you see yourself in the dream, you know-" the older man puts a hand on Semyon's shoulder, gesturing out with his cup towards some invisible horizon. "-and you will look all the more heroic in the light of day!"

[Kidney]

Jul 19, 2020 15:20:19 GMT -8 Dane Outlast said:

*Dane enters the bar. The once loud atmosphere now dead quiet, all centered around a certain enraged bounty hunter. Dane approaches the man* um sir? S-sorry for what I said earlier. I apologize.

The rage began to build, and the dark eyes of a man barely caging murderous intent were turned delicately toward The Leper, like the eyes of surgeon before the first cut. He was analyzing him for a few reasons, but one was the mere idea of ripping a hand free from his cadaver, and bringing it to someone. This...tyrant would likely pay well for the death of this...individual. 

"Aim a sword to me one moment, words next." Came from the man's mouth, whispering and deadly, sharp like a caltrop. "I envy your humble nature, but I despise it all the same." His words were carefully placed. "Your apology is accepted. Now, leave me. I must think." 

He turned away from him and leaned against the bar, coughing into a fist with a wheeze. 

[Dane Outlast]

*with the abrupt ending of the conversation, Dane was left to leave. That or risk this...man getting even angrier than he looked. With a very uneasy feeling over this man growing in his gut, Dane quickly rushed out of the tavern.* 'looks like I am gonna have to keep an eye on him, I can tell he was planning something' 

[EloHim]

[Elorit/? ? ?]
“All of the above. They take turns this time, it seems. Better be prepared. Or run. Unlike Gorhon, this place does not hold us in. The Stagecoach goes both ways.”- yeah, and whoever boards it to get out would abandon the Stage and drop the Mask. Or, to put it plainly, cease to exist. A line of text in a Script, marking an unremarkable end of a journey. That is how it really was.
“Estate...Far as I hear it, no one yet ventured there… or maybe someone did, but no one returned. Final destination, that one.” - the information on what is out there has been scarce. Practically nonexistent. No one was making their way there. No one was going there ever. And asking around...did not help. Much. If at all.

[lunardusters]

"Hmm.. No, I don't think I'll be leaving." The hesitation is feigned, she has no intent on abandoning destiny. "I believe I've been brought here for a reason, same as last time. As for the Estate, well, that sounds like an end goal to me."
Again, she pauses, her voice is quiet. ".. It's nice to know I won't be alone here, though."

[EloHim]

[Elorit / ? ? ?]
"For all of us."- eventually someone will end up there. And die. And then again and again. Untill the Heart is dead. Or untill humanity ceases to exist.
"Some comfort, indeed. We already walked through Hell. Might as well get ourselves a second serving of that.” - More like a second course. This whole place was a slow torture compared to the quick and efficent cleansing Gorhon dished out. Twelve days versus eternity. How long has he been here? Forever and always.

[porkylabrador]

"Heroics?" The word has a foreign quality to it. As a local, Kat was not unfamiliar with the influx of not-locals who seemingly held onto some notion of glory, questing knights. Frankly it was all a little on-the-nose as far as she was concerned. Hawker's tone and facial expression betrayed her distaste for it. "You did all this... for a bloody rock?" She couldn't help but shake her head in genuine disbelief.

"If pebbles of curious origin are your motivator... I'm thinking the ol' chaps right." With a casual, feline pointing of her thumb, the waif gestured at Ezekiel. "You need sleep... I think you've dithered in the sun too long."

[lunardusters]

"Second serving.. yes."
But the air, the emotions of the location, the look in Elorit's eyes, the sinking feeling in her stomach.. It all reeks of despair and dread.
Her mind drifts off to sea on its dingy lifeboat of a consciousness as she stands to leave.
"I.. I should go. I haven't even been here an hour, I need some time to get my bearings, or.." The 'or' drifts off, too.

[dewdrop]

Cyrus managed to laugh along with Ellie. Had that been the first time she'd laughed since arriving here? She couldn't be sure. There certainly hadn't been anything funny about what had happened to Aurora... and Aurora's story of vicious fishfolk had been nothing but sobering.

She had been ready to excuse herself when Ellie spoke again. Had Ellie just called her cute? Cyrus shifted in place, a sheepish smile on her face. First Aurora, now this new face? Was this common in the Hamlet? Cyrus rubbed the back of her head. She could only hope so, though that could be hazardous for her health. Cyrus was a sucker for a pretty face through and through. Leaning forwards, Cyrus rested her elbows down on the bar.

"That's all very sweet of you," Cyrus said, almost fondly. Her eyes flicked to the hand Ellie had offered her. Friends? Cyrus supposed she could use a few friends in this place. Shifting once again, Cyrus took Ellie's hand and gave it a firm shake. "I'd count us friends, sure enough. It's good to find someone in this place that knows how to smile like that, you know."

[EloHim]

[Elorit / ? ? ?]
"Be careful, Sonya." - is the only thing he says to her, and after that he is again alone. He sits awhile, as he has nowhere else to go.