"That's just Anders. He's from out of town. Likes to stop by my shop and browse sometimes."
"Hm." Raven says. "Know where I can get a horse?"
The shopkeeper chuckles. "You should have asked Anders. He's staying at the Gift Horse's Mouth. It's owned by this guy Randel, has the best stables in town, right next to the inn. It's him you'll want to go to."
OOC: I'm not quite sure where to post this, so I'll do it here. It's kinda obvious but might as well make it official: I must bow out of this roleplay's game. I'm terribly sorry for wasting a slot in it...
OOC: I'm not quite sure where to post this, so I'll do it here. It's kinda obvious but might as well make it official: I must bow out of this roleplay's game. I'm terribly sorry for wasting a slot in it...
Looks about forty; wears a Burgundy red cloak with a large hood that shadows his face; and has a dagger in his belt.
Backstory: Unknown - he is a wanderer new in these lands.
OOC: Nice profile! Please choose a class (I'd suggest Rogue based on the equipment, though I don't know what his skill set is). Once you've done that, I'll get you started on the plot line I've been trying desperately to make happen here.
Looks about forty; wears a Burgundy red cloak with a large hood that shadows his face; and has a dagger in his belt.
Backstory: Unknown - he is a wanderer new in these lands.
OOC: Nice profile! Please choose a class (I'd suggest Rogue based on the equipment, though I don't know what his skill set is). Once you've done that, I'll get you started on the plot line I've been trying desperately to make happen here.
OOC: Thanks. I think I may go for Knight. Please do start me off however you like.
OOC: Nice profile! Please choose a class (I'd suggest Rogue based on the equipment, though I don't know what his skill set is). Once you've done that, I'll get you started on the plot line I've been trying desperately to make happen here.
OOC: Thanks. I think I may go for Knight. Please do start me off however you like.
OOC: Okay, that works. We shall begin . . .
IC: Entering town, Llewnar passes a large stable, the smell of horse strong in the air. Adjoining the stable is a small inn and tavern. The faded and peeling sign above the door reads "The Gift Horse's Mouth." It is a quiet day, the streets rather empty. A chill wind blows down fog from the north.
OOC: Thanks. I think I may go for Knight. Please do start me off however you like.
OOC: Okay, that works. We shall begin . . .
IC: Entering town, Llewnar passes a large stable, the smell of horse strong in the air. Adjoining the stable is a small inn and tavern. The faded and peeling sign above the door reads "The Gift Horse's Mouth." It is a quiet day, the streets rather empty. A chill wind blows down fog from the north.
OOC: Archs >>---->: Do you want to keep going? Just tell me where you'd like to go in the town or what you'd like to to and I can navigate you towards that goal.
IC: Entering town, Llewnar passes a large stable, the smell of horse strong in the air. Adjoining the stable is a small inn and tavern. The faded and peeling sign above the door reads "The Gift Horse's Mouth." It is a quiet day, the streets rather empty. A chill wind blows down fog from the north.
OOC: Archs >>----> : Do you want to keep going? Just tell me where you'd like to go in the town or what you'd like to to and I can navigate you towards that goal.
OOC: It's cool. I'm not sure where I'm headed, so will just roll with it.
IC: Llewnar gathers his cloak against the wind and silently steps inside the inn; while he walks he turns his head, looking about cautiously, especially wary what with the fog.
OOC: Archs >>----> : Do you want to keep going? Just tell me where you'd like to go in the town or what you'd like to to and I can navigate you towards that goal.
OOC: It's cool. I'm not sure where I'm headed, so will just roll with it.
IC: Llewnar gathers his cloak against the wind and silently steps inside the inn; while he walks he turns his head, looking about cautiously, especially wary what with the fog.
The interior is a small room with only five round tables. A staircase at the back leads upstairs. Three of the tables have occupants. Standing by the door is a broad-shouldered, dark-haired man who calls out in a slightly odd accent as Llewnar enters. "Randel! You have a customer!"
A balding, potbellied man enters from a side room, likely the kitchen. He frowns at Llewnar, and says in an angry mutter: "Welcome t' th' inn. Wha' d' ya want?"
OOC: It's cool. I'm not sure where I'm headed, so will just roll with it.
IC: Llewnar gathers his cloak against the wind and silently steps inside the inn; while he walks he turns his head, looking about cautiously, especially wary what with the fog.
The interior is a small room with only five round tables. A staircase at the back leads upstairs. Three of the tables have occupants. Standing by the door is a broad-shouldered, dark-haired man who calls out in a slightly odd accent as Llewnar enters. "Randel! You have a customer!"
A balding, potbellied man enters from a side room, likely the kitchen. He frowns at Llewnar, and says in an angry mutter: "Welcome t' th' inn. Wha' d' ya want?"
Llewnar looks shewdly at the dark-haired man by the door, before going up to Randel.
'I'm cold, I'm tired, I'm hungry,' he says in sour tones. He brings out a dagger and bangs its hilt on a nearby table top. Gold coins drop from the sleeve of his dagger hand. 'You can guess what I want.'
Llewnar stumps over to another, empty table and drops into a chair.
The interior is a small room with only five round tables. A staircase at the back leads upstairs. Three of the tables have occupants. Standing by the door is a broad-shouldered, dark-haired man who calls out in a slightly odd accent as Llewnar enters. "Randel! You have a customer!"
A balding, potbellied man enters from a side room, likely the kitchen. He frowns at Llewnar, and says in an angry mutter: "Welcome t' th' inn. Wha' d' ya want?"
Llewnar looks shewdly at the dark-haired man by the door, before going up to Randel.
'I'm cold, I'm tired, I'm hungry,' he says in sour tones. He brings out a dagger and bangs its hilt on a nearby table top. Gold coins drop from the sleeve of his dagger hand. 'You can guess what I want.'
Llewnar stumps over to another, empty table and drops into a chair.
Randel grunts and walks back into the kitchen. Several minutes later, he returns with a plate of food, setting it down none too gently. The man by the door walks over, holding the coins Llewnar let go. "Enough for the meal and the night, Randel."
Randel smiles, showing a few missing teeth. "Now thi' is my kin' uf cust'mer, Anders. Pays firs', don't talk."
"It's a wonder you don't get more business," replies Anders, rolling his eyes. "Listen, I'm gonna head over to Mirche's"
"Ye're ov'r th're all th' time, Anders. What is 'e, payin' ye?" Randel says.
"Yes, he's paying me."
Randel coughs. "Oh. Well, be back by th' ev'nin' rush."
Llewnar looks shewdly at the dark-haired man by the door, before going up to Randel.
'I'm cold, I'm tired, I'm hungry,' he says in sour tones. He brings out a dagger and bangs its hilt on a nearby table top. Gold coins drop from the sleeve of his dagger hand. 'You can guess what I want.'
Llewnar stumps over to another, empty table and drops into a chair.
Randel grunts and walks back into the kitchen. Several minutes later, he returns with a plate of food, setting it down none too gently. The man by the door walks over, holding the coins Llewnar let go. "Enough for the meal and the night, Randel."
Randel smiles, showing a few missing teeth. "Now thi' is my kin' uf cust'mer, Anders. Pays firs', don't talk."
"It's a wonder you don't get more business," replies Anders, rolling his eyes. "Listen, I'm gonna head over to Mirche's"
"Ye're ov'r th're all th' time, Anders. What is 'e, payin' ye?" Randel says.
"Yes, he's paying me."
Randel coughs. "Oh. Well, be back by th' ev'nin' rush."
"Will do." Anders leaves.
Llewnar is listening to their conversation with half an ear. As he has his meal - roasted potatoes and carrots with slices of ham, better fare than he had had for a long time - he seems partly absorbed in inspecting his dagger.
Once he has finished eating, he approaches Randel. 'Is there any place I can get my dagger sharpened? And buy more weapons?'
Randel grunts and walks back into the kitchen. Several minutes later, he returns with a plate of food, setting it down none too gently. The man by the door walks over, holding the coins Llewnar let go. "Enough for the meal and the night, Randel."
Randel smiles, showing a few missing teeth. "Now thi' is my kin' uf cust'mer, Anders. Pays firs', don't talk."
"It's a wonder you don't get more business," replies Anders, rolling his eyes. "Listen, I'm gonna head over to Mirche's"
"Ye're ov'r th're all th' time, Anders. What is 'e, payin' ye?" Randel says.
"Yes, he's paying me."
Randel coughs. "Oh. Well, be back by th' ev'nin' rush."
"Will do." Anders leaves.
Llewnar is listening to their conversation with half an ear. As he has his meal - roasted potatoes and carrots with slices of ham, better fare than he had had for a long time - he seems partly absorbed in inspecting his dagger.
Once he has finished eating, he approaches Randel. 'Is there any place I can get my dagger sharpened? And buy more weapons?'
Randel grins. "Tha' wud be Mirche's. F'llow th' street pas' th' squar, th'n turn lef' an' walk 'til ye see th' sign tha' says 'Mirche's'. If ye look i'side an' ye see Anders, ye're a' th' righ' place, I gess."
Llewnar is listening to their conversation with half an ear. As he has his meal - roasted potatoes and carrots with slices of ham, better fare than he had had for a long time - he seems partly absorbed in inspecting his dagger.
Once he has finished eating, he approaches Randel. 'Is there any place I can get my dagger sharpened? And buy more weapons?'
Randel grins. "Tha' wud be Mirche's. F'llow th' street pas' th' squar, th'n turn lef' an' walk 'til ye see th' sign tha' says 'Mirche's'. If ye look i'side an' ye see Anders, ye're a' th' righ' place, I gess."
'Good. I'll be back this evening for my supper and sleep.'
He strides out of the inn, back into the wind and fog. Following the innkeeper's directions he makes his way to his destination.
'Mirche's' looks like a promising place; he enters the shop.
I must bow out of this roleplay's game. I'm terribly sorry for wasting a slot in it...
I must bow out of this roleplay's game. I'm terribly sorry for wasting a slot in it...
