Clothing and Red Capes

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Log Info

  • Title: Clothing and Red Capes
  • Emitter: Braelnoir
  • Characters: Braelnoir, Seldan, Cryosanthia, Merek, Aya, Poc, Ezil
  • Place: A07: Fernwood Pub
  • Time: Friday, February 28, 2020, 7:33 PM
  • Summary: Merek has requested Cryosanthia and Braelnoir meet him at the Fernwood Pub, as he has finished their bracers. They do, also present is Seldan and Aya when a small goblin enters. Poc, as he later introduces himself as, is dehydrated, starving and disoriented. He collapses and Cryo and Seldan see to helping him. Cryo is sent on an errand by the kitchen, while the others discuss Alexandria with the new arrival, and some of their past. The goblin has been assailed by a band of bandits named the Red Capes. Seldan is often occupied with his work for the temple. Braelnoir was blood-sworn as a mercenary when she was ten. Some cleaning spells are demonstrated, and Braelnoir gets her clothing object to work properly. Cryo eventually returns, as does Merek and Ezil, and then it's their turn to meet Poc properly. The evening rounds out with Cryo experimenting with several comedic outfits before she goes to bed in a simple shift.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* A07: Fernwood Pub *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

The common room of the Fernwood Pub dominates the inn, spacious and airy because of the high, vaulted ceiling. Ornately carved beams of dark, polished wood form a lattice overhead, supporting the arched roof two storeys above the floor. To the right of the double-door entry is a spiral staircase, winding upwards to a balcony that rings and overlooks the main area. Large windows at this level grant an excellent view of the river to the west and colorful market stalls to the north and east. An air of coziness is salvaged by keeping the pub dimly lit; parchment-shrouded mana lanterns hang at intervals from the base of the balcony, nestled amongst lush, magically propagated ivy and ferns that grow over this false demi-ceiling and the struts that support it.

The bar is sleek and simple, comprised of meticulously polished black lacquer. Tables are set under the darker niches formed by the balcony floor as well as on the balcony itself. A few are deliberately sized to accommodate halflings and gnomes, but the majority are meant for human-sized individuals. A large common table is on the main floor, set before a semi-circular stage situated against the western wall. Beside it, with pipes mounted upon the wall and running up past the balcony and almost to the ceiling, is a refurbished pipe organ made to look like the one lost when the Fernwood was destroyed during the Merkabah Siege.

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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  Appearing, in Order  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Braelnoir    5'11"    146 Lb     Human             Female    A rough and tumble brunette wielding a scythe and a feral grin.
Seldan       5'11"    187 Lb     Human             Male      Red-blonde Eldanar man wearing Eluna's colors and symbol.                 
Cryosanthia  6'7"     245 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A dashingly tall, lithe white lizardgirl with tattoos.
Merek        5'10"    215 Lb     Human             Male      A black-haired, dusky male with golden eyes.
Aya          4'7"     105 Lb     Shadow Elf        Female    Mul'niessa. Braided hair. Simple clothing.
Poc          2'11"    34 Lb      Goblin            Male      A green goblin with pointed ears and woodland attire.
Ezil         5'11"    175 Lb     Human             Male      An armored man with dark skin, and grey-blonde hair. 
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It's another night at the Fern. With her little improvised partition of two little planks stacked against each other, the silvern chimera is currently tucked in on some juicy beef. Brae fishes the dark towel from her lap and rolls her forepaws around within it's folds, then brings it to her face for a moment before she takes up her tankard of dark beer between them for a healthy gulp. In short order, she's back at it again, hunkering down so, at least visually, her meal isn't the horror show it sounds like.

Closer to the bar, there is a much more civilized form of eating happening. Seldan, too, is enjoying a meal similar in composition to Braelnoir's, but with fork and knife employed, a thin silver band holding his hair away from his face. He glances from time to time out the window, as if gauging time, and although he does not gulp his food, he is not slow with the knife and fork in his hands.

A white-scaled sith-makar is one of the servers on the floor. The other is the half-elf, as this time is usually busy. Cryo is wearing her apron over her armour, and has a small note pad jammed in the pocket. She's standing at the side of the room, looking for any signals, and for the moment has nothing to do. She's aware of Seldan and Braelnoir, but hasn't interrupted their meals.

Merek walks into the Fernwood Pub with what looks like two packs, each carrying a nice sleeve which is inset with a magicite crystal, though the piece is well placed, a bit of the material translucent while looking a bit like a nice bracer, he then places that before Braelnoir, as well as to Cryosanthia! "Your sleeves are complete!"

Aya emergese from a room on the upper level and briefly eyes the patrons below before departing the mezzanine to approach the counter. The sudden arrival of another, and his conspicuous calling, draws her attention Merekwards.

"Oh?" Cryosanthia moves over beside Braelnoir, signalling the half-elf server to take her tables. She looks at Merek's devices, holding the bracer he hands her. "So, this is it? Put them on and then they work?"

She looks at Braelnoir, waiting for her to go first.

Braelnoir does what she can with what she's been left with. Her pace is steady, though it sounds like she's ripping into the meat and scraping her claws against the plate beneath on occasion before the nomming ensues further. Again, she wipes her 'hands' on the towel in her lap, brings it to her face, then picks up her tankard of beer to lay it under seige. She looks up at Merek as he joins her at her table, and squirms momentarily as she is certain he can see the ravaged mess she's had to make of her meal, "Ah.. Hey, Merek, thank you!" Ahem, "'how ya doin, luv?"

The front door of the Fernwood Pub opens with a small sound, and in walks... someone small. Dressed in some pretty skimpy clothing of leather derivatives, a green skinned goblin peers around at the interior of the airy-feeling establishment. His beady yellow eyes take in everything from behind his wooden mask, pointed ears twitching at all the sounds going on. "Food!" He rasps, the skinny goblin a bit shaky on his feet as he takes a few steps forward, coincidentally to where a group of heroes have gathered at a table. "...water!" A glance goes to Merek, Cryosanthia and Braelnoir. "...blleeahhhh!" And just like that? He topples over! The gobber falls onto his side into a weird looking slouch.

Seldan looks up at the commotion created by Merek's entrance, then returns to his meal without comment. Whatever this is quite plainly does not involve him - at least, until the rather dilapidated gobber stumbles through the door. -That- gets his attention, and he sets down knife and fork, beginning to stand.

Aya looks from Merek to the even more recent arrival, then back. A brow arches. "Your creation process didn't happen to have any waste products or side effects, by chance?"

Merek looks then to Aya, and blinks a bit at the woman, "I don't think. It's a standard magic item," he says, then he nods to Cryo and Brae, "You just need to imagine the change of what you wear while meditating upon the crystal!" Then he waves to Seldan and Poc!

"Uh... normally they drink before they fall over. I'll help them." Cryosanthia sets the small pack with her bracers down on the table and threads through the tables to where the goblin has collapsed. She hesitates touching Poc, "Actually, Seldan, you know something about healing, can you assist?"

"Somethin' I said?" Brae quips as the Goblin looks her way and keels over. She looks to Merek then turns to look over to the woman wondering about his manufacturing practices for a moment. Hmm. Then back to Seldan and Cryo moving to assist the fallen Goblin, absently reaches out for her recently delivered package.

"Bleeaaahhh," Poc groans again, not looking to be entirely injured. His skin contains no bruises or gashes, though it does look a bit thin on his flesh. A symptom of dehydration, perhaps? "Poc... thirsty..." Muttered so softly that a lot may not even catch it. "Want... to... eat... horse."

GAME: Seldan rolls heal: (14)+10: 24

"Of course." Seldan's words are tinted with the accent of the High Kingdom. He stands and strides over to the collapsed gobber, dropping to one knee next to him and looking him over, his entire bearing businesslike and sober. "I think him near starving more than ill, Cryosanthia. Has the kitchen any broth? I know not how long he has been without, but best to begin cautiously." He pulls a few coins from his pouch and offers them to the white sith-makar.

Cryo hooks a tall chair along the bar and drags it closer. She gives Seldan a grateful nod, she takes the coins, "Thanks. Yes, we have that, I'll get some. When he's able, you can help him into this chair."

The bartender puts a large glass of water in front of Poc.

The white-scale slips into the back for food.

Merek nods a bit to Brae, "I'm doing alright, I will be about my way probably, I wanted to give you both your magic things."

Poc, drowsy as he is, grasps the large glass of water with both hands. Such is his size and relative arm strength that it looks like he needs BOTH hands to lift it! Even with both hands and arms, a great deal spills on his mask and body, yet he still seems to get enough of it down to feel immediately better. Gulp. Gulp. Gulp. Splash. Gulp. Splash. Splash. By the time it's all done, the goblin is sitting up straight, amongst some wet wooden flooring. But feeling much better, nonetheless. "Poc feel better!" He declares, raising both hands high. "Thank-you!"

Braelnoir smiles up at Merek, "Thank's, luv." she says, reaching out to lightly pat at his arm, then looks at the sickly goblin again, "He gonna-" She breaks the question off as said goblin is suddenly revitalized and starts to carefully fiddle with her new sleeves, trying not to tear them.

"You're welcome," Merek pats back, while he nods to Brae, then he waves to Poc, as well as to Seldan and Aya. "You all be well," he says.

"I appreciate it a lot Merek!" Cryosanthia calls from the kitchen. It's a few more moments before she returns with a bowl of broth, which she slides onto the bar near the goblin. "This is for you."

"Before you go Merek, how do they work? Do I stare at clothes I want to wear, imagine them? Show Braelnoir, so she can show me." The white-sith waves, occupied with a couple orders now.

Merek looks back to Cryo and blinks, then he says again, "You only need to imagine what you want to change it into, then meditate upon the crystal!"

Wet is readily enough handled, and a boyish smile suffuses Seldan's businesslike expression, swallowing it whole and leaving no trace as the gobber immediately perks up. A simple arcane sigil, an even simpler word, and he passes a hand over the wet on the floor. "You are most welcome, though you may wish to move slowly." He looks up as Merek makes to leave, and nods. "Evensong nears," he agrees. "I will come directly."

As his hand moves slowly over the water spilled on the floor, it vanishes as if it had never been, leaving dry planks where the spill had stood, and his smile, if anything, broadens.

The food delivered to Poc from Cryosanthia earns an eternally wide smile. The toothy grin is surrounded by plenty of saliva as the gobber drools with renewed vitality. "Person saved Poc! Poc eternally in debt!" As the wooden floorboards around him dry, the broth is practically /inhaled/ at speeds the likes of which have rarely been seen before. He does stop on occasion where it looks like he might just vomit it all up, though fortunately those moments only end with a very uncouth BELLLLLLLCH. "Yasyasyasnom," The sounds he makes don't appear to be any sort of language. Just... eating noises.

"Now, this won't do armor, right?" Brae wonders, getting the sleeves mostly situated over her limbs and she looks to Seldan, "Yer a good egg, luv." She squints at the crystal ... and... ends up clad in black leather, from her traditional one-shouldered corselet and a sort of pleated kilt that makes allowances for her tails, "Neeeeeat!"

Cryosanthia grins at the vigorous eating, shaking her head and waving her hand, "It's a simple thing, debt is paid, do not worry about it."

She slips over by Braelnoir's table to grab her package, "I need to put this in the back. Chef asked me to run an errand, I'll return soon if you. Oh wow, that looks amazing! I think it could look like armour, but stage armour, it wouldn't protect."

She gives Seldan a nod again, and a look to the bartender and the other server, then slips into the back.

Some of Seldan's smile fades at the - vigorous - consumption of food, and he coughs lightly, letting the spell fade as the water does and backing away from the enthusiastic gobber. "Slow down, else you will make yourself ill," he tells Poc as he stands.

Once the bone broth is consumed as well as the water, Poc jumps to his feet in some victory. Despite warnings to the contrary of not moving about, he seems quite happy to feel the energy flowing through his bones once more. "POC FEEL GREAT!" He bellows, before turning to regard Seldan through his wooden mask. "Man know magic?" He asks, a thin green finger pointing to the floor. "Make water vanish?"

Some of Seldan's smile fades at the - vigorous - consumption of food, and he coughs lightly, letting the spell fade as the water does and backing away from the enthusiastic gobber. "Slow down, else you will make yourself ill," he tells Poc as he stands. Braelnoir's voice is half-heard, and he looks in that direction - and starts visibly. "Were you not....?"

"New trick!" Brae returns with a wink. She looks at herself for a moment and adds some matching leather greaves and bracers with some more concentration. She looks to the goblin, "How ya doin'?"

"I see that. A most effective one." Distracted from Braelnoir's apparent costume change by a question directed at him, Seldan looks down at Poc, and nods. "Yes, I am so blessed, although I name myself more student than master of Her arts. That is a simple cantrip, though. Tell me - whence do you hail? Your journey must have been long."

"Poc from forest. King Gobber!" The goblin confirms with a big grin, hands going to his hips in a proud way. Truthfully it's pretty clear that he's from a rural area, given his makeshift clothes. "From far away. Trying to hunt human group known as Red Capes. Red Capes kill birth family." Poc squints then, assessing Seldan with a suspicious eye. "Man know where Red Capes are?" That question is left hanging, before he looks up at the rough and tumble brunette in company. "Woman know where group is?" Now that he's conscious, the goblin is beginning to appreciate how well equipped the pair of them seem to be. "Who youse?"

Braelnoir cants her head a little and arches an eyebrow, "I'm Braelnoir. I'll keep an eye out fer anyone like that, but I ain't seen'm, yet. What can ya tell us about'm?"

"Seldan," the wizard/healer names himself, and finds an empty chair nearby, his own meal forgotten for the moment. He sits in it backwards, turning the back so that he can rest his elbows on it. "I know not of ... Red Capes." The man is, from his attire, as clearly city folk as Poc is from rural places. "Say on."

"They wear red capes!" Poc declares loudly with an air of frustration. "They bandits. Steal from people. Murder! Thieve! All sorts of nasty." Poc shudders. "Me Poc." He finally introduces, a clenched fist going to his chest. The wooden longbow he has equipped around his body shifts just a little bit in response. "Good to meet friendly humans. Braelnoir. Seldan. Both only humans Poc knows that are nice. All other humans kill gobbers." Another pause, as he looks around. "Where this? What city? It big. Bigger than forest!"

Braelnoir claps her paw to her chest, "Hey, Poc." she replies with a close-mouthed smile, "I'll see if anyone I know has heard anything about these red capes." She glances at her meal, then, "This is Alexandria... how.. did you get here?" back to him.

Seldan's gaze is steady, his tone firm, although he does not move from his perch. "Humans do not kill gobbers here in Alexandria, Poc, and I name one of your people among my dearest friends. You will find, do you explore the city, on the western side a place where many of the gobbers of the city make their homes. It is an," he pauses, searching for a word, "interesting place."

"Poc walk." The goblin notes with an air of pride. "Walk for long time. Tried tracking Red Capes. Then had to survive on land because Poc got lost. Just wander... wander... now here." With a scratch of his head the masked being turns his attention back to Baelnoir. "Alexandria. Poc hear of this place before. It big." A small tip of his head is as much as both of them will get. "Poc thanks Braelnoir and Seldan for looking out for Red Capes. If see them, tell Poc! Poc shoot them with arrow."

Seldan's further explanation of gobbers earns a curious glance, his head tilting in some wonder. "West? Gobbers lift west?" A big breath is taken, before he turns about in a sudden movement. "Poc thanks Seldan for information! Go now to see others in West!" A small wave is gone, before he practically /runs/ out of the establishment at full speed!

Braelnoir blinks after the little goblin and hmmm's, "He's... something." she muses softly, then looks to Seldan, "How ya been?" she wonders.

Seldan, too, looks bemusedly after the little gobber, even after the door closes. "Well enough," he answers, turning his attention to Braelnoir and studying her up and down. "I should ask the same of you," he adds. "Have you been able to find the one responsible for your condition?"

Braelnoir shakes her head, "Kae's been makin' noises about finishin' whatever gadget she needs to track th'bastard down, but I ain't seen'r in a couple days." She shrugs and considers her forelimb, "I'm glad I could finally change clothes, but... I'm still not great with tool use, hence my... fine dining accessories." with that, she gestures to the partition she's put together.

"Perhaps that is why you have not seen her," Seldan suggests, rising and turning his chair around to sit in it more properly. "It is my hope that you will not be in that state long enough to master the use of tools with paws, for such a thing cannot be easy. Is there aught I can do to be of aid?"

Braelnoir sighs, "Prob'ly. Imagine workin' all that mojo-tech takes time an' all." The chimera;'s tail twitches slightly, but she rests her chin on the back of her flexed wrist, "I'unno, luv... what kindsa things're ya good at?"

"I know something of healing, of magic, and of the sword, but little of artifice." Seldan stares into the distance, absently reaching for a lock of hair that is well restrained by the headband that he wears. He pauses in confusion, and lets the hand drop. "I fear that I have other duties, and such has limited the time that I can spend. If I can do it, I will."

Braelnoir hmmm's and considers that for a few moments, "There's a cleanin' spell I seen mages use once'r twice." She lowers her eyes a moment, then relocks to his, "I trouble ya fer a quick clean?" She brings her left paw up to try and brush her hair away from the decoration hanging from that ear, well, some of it... she makes several attempts, "Normally... I'd do it m'self, but..."

If the chimera-woman had been watching closely, she would have seen Seldan use exactly this spell not ten minutes ago, to dry the floor around Poc after he drank so enthusiastically. He brightens visibly, and nods, with no hint of offense or resentment - if anything, he seems pleased to have been asked. "Of course." A quick, simple gesture, and an arcane phrase, and he begins to work. It takes him several minutes to complete, but she can feel the spell work, lifting dirt, grime, and oil away from her and dismissing it into the Sea of Mana. He is meticulous and thorough, although he is silent, his entire attention on the spell in question.

Only when he is done does he dismiss the spell with an arcane gesture of swift fingers, and nod his satisfaction. "A simple cantrip, but a great timesaver for armor."

Braelnoir blinks and fidgets a little bit as the spell gets the dirt from all the -never-used-to-be- places of her person, such as between her scales, but, as it finishes, she gives a little sigh and leans her cheek and ear against the back of her left paw. She smiles softly, eyes half-lidded for a moment, then reopens them to see his face again, "Thanks, luv." She straightens, then and rests her forearms on the edge of her table, "I can imagine. Take a long time t'learn, that one?"

"It was one of the first we were all taught," Seldan answers, some of that boyish smile returning. "I studied in Rune, for a time, when first my affinity for magic was discovered. In truth, it is a practice cantrip. It can do nothing dangerous or harmful, nor can it create anything lasting. It simply has not the power to do such things. Still did we all practice a great deal, in keeping the halls of the Academy clean." The note of weariness suggests -lots- of cleaning practice. "It is used to teach those new to the arts."

Braelnoir hmm's, "Suppose that explains some o'the wizards I seen. Lotsa fancy clothes, real intricate. be a damn bear t'clean by hand." She shrugs, "We used t' clean up th'old fashioned way."

Laughter, bright and warm, bubbles up from Seldan at that, but it fades quickly enough. "Surely have I done my share of that, as well. My honored father did not approve of magic for such things. He felt that the manual labor both added strength and taught discipline." The laughter fades. "Not until the magic did a better job on his armor than he could did he relent on the matter, and in that was I fortunate that it was so. I agree, though, the fancy things are difficult to clean by hand. This armor," he touches the brooch holding his cloak, "is also so."

Braelnoir shrugs, "Th'sarge went on about that, too." she replies offhandedly, "We... didn't quite get as disciplined as I think he wanted us, but w'got to the point that our platoon was probably the best fighters o'the bunch. Give's a goal and turn us loose an' we'd handle it." She waves her paw like she was trying to coax a pet bird to fly from one's hand, "Overmanage us an' we got pretty spirited."

Mirth in Seldan's eyes says that he gets the picture. "For whose army did you fight?" he asks, leaning back in his chair a little.

Braelnoir takes a swig from her beer, needing both paws to do so, then sets it aside, "Was brought up in a mercenary company called th'Brazen Stride since I's... nine... ten? We got sworn young... ten year bond."

Seldan's eyes widen at that. "You were sworn to a mercenary company at ten summers?" Shock colors the words. "Did they ... demand you fight at such an age?"

Some time passes.

In the wake of the previous excitement, and certain matters discussed, Braelnoir is kind of helping the waitstaff clean, mostly by muscling tables and furniture out of the way, clad in her one-shouldered corselet and pleated kilt of black leather, with bracers and greaves to match that make her hooves look like they were part of a boot.

Cryosanthia emerges from the kitchen, looking exhausted, "That errand took forever! Oh wow Braelnoir, you look great."

Merek walks his way into the Pub, while he has on his scarf which is shifted about him, the dark attire which he keeps on beneath that is comfortable and meant for casual wear in the city. He nods when he sees Brael, then he finds a place to settle in, waving to Cryo. He begins working with a kit he keeps, mixing alchemy reagants.

GAME: Merek rolls profession/herbalist: (3)+8: 11
GAME: Merek rolls craft/alchemy: (16)+8: 24

The sith has her box with her, she sets it on the table. "Okay, hello Merek. So, it's put the sleeves on, think of what I want, touch the gem. Should I be wearing armour while I do this? Actually... is it actual clothes or an illusion?"

She reaches out and tugs at Braelnoir's kilt. "Okay, actual something. What happens if it's hit by a dispell magic?"

Braelnoir smiles and stretches to get things back into alignment, "Nnnng..! Thanks, luv!" she says then looks about to see Merek, "Oh, hey! Thanks again, Mer, I think I'm gettin' the hang o'these things!"

"You don't need to touch the gem, just meditate on it, focus your energy into it, then you can use it like a focus to what you wear. It's all real, though if you use it to make armor or make armor look like normal things people can tell," Merek says, while he nods a bit, then he adds, "I'm mixing up a few potions, that'll be a bit more useful for traveling!"

Ezil enters after Merek, his smile wide as he is dressed as he always is. His purple and blue painted armor, and a awful orange shirt worn that peaks out from beneath. "What a good day! Hallo!" he calls to the entire pub, seeming to be in a good mood, and a bit excited. It's not rare, he's just not usually so loud. "How is everyone?" catching sight of Braelnoir, Merek and Cryosanthia with his smirk intact. "Can I buy you all a drink tonight?" yes, something seems to be better than usual.

"Yes, a drink would be nice." Cryo says, looking at her armour. "Hmmmm..... I think I should take my armour off. I need something to put on while I experiment with this. Let me see if someone left a uniform in the back."

Braelnoir laughs a little and bats at Cryo's hand near her kilt, "Oi!" There's a looks between the two, then Ezil enters and makes his query, "Well, I suppose, luv, if yer gonna twist m'arm!" she laughs.

"I always accept drink buying," Merek says then to Ezil, smiling a bit to the man, nodding to All-Friend. A look then to Brae as well as Cryo, "Play with that all you like, unless people mess with the material it should be a fairly permanent magic item."

Cryo holds up her hands defensively at Braelnoir and grins, backing away, tail swishing playfully. "Okay, I'm going to find something to put on, before I put on the ritz."

She bumps her way into the back, is gone for a little bit. She returns with what is essentially a long sleeping shirt. Something like a dress that goes mid thigh on her her. Back at the table she slips the sleeves on. "And mundane clothes, go away, are what get transformed?"

Braelnoir smirks, tail(s) sweeping behind her with her more animated body language and, as Cryo gets presentable for the magic experimentation, she edges back.... just in case there's a dispel coming. Not that she knows how big the area is on those, but...

Ezil furrows a brow at Cryosanthia. "Why take off your armor." it's true. Ezil is never seen without his, and seems to think it normal. "I wear mine till I am ready for bed. I walk in it. I do everything in it." his thoughts about this showing his confusion. "I'd sleep in it if I could." his mind latching on to that thought for a moment.

"Well, I owe you a bottle anyways Merek. I never got to smoke those little cigars you gave me." The tsuran muses, moving towards the bar to place an order. "I just... had a fantastic day. I think I want a bill made for me. It was exhilarating to fight with one."

Merek nods a bit to Ezil, then he looks to Cryo, "You can transform anything you like you're wearing into different things," he says, then he looks to Brae, "You all look like you are having fun with the new toys."

"FOREST KING GOBBER BACK!" Cries a voice that enters the Fernwood Pub. At an inch under three feet tall, the wiry, green form of Poc strides into the airy establishment with an air of pride. Unlike his previous entry that brought him right to the edge of death, this time he appears to be well nourished, probably still fuelled by the bone broth and water he received hours ago. It's the form of Braelnoir that takes Poc's attention first, as the goblin with the wooden mask sidles up to the table she presents near. "Poc tried looking for goblin town, but got lost. Do not know west direction." True facts. He actually headed South instead of West. "Next time? Poc take map. Kakaka!" Despite getting lost (again), he doesn't seem too bothered by it. Instead, he looks around at the others gathered. "Hello humans!" A blink then goes to Cryosanthia, as he eyes stare up up up at her. "Hello big lizardgirl." A fisted hand goes to his chest. "Me Poc."

GAME: Merek rolls craft/cartography: (1)+8: 9 (EPIC FAIL)

"It's a really bulky kilted sith armour," Cryosanthia explains, "Merek, you said making armour look like clothes would make the clothes look strange. I guess, I'd have to come up with something for when I am wearing it, but I thought the first few times it'd be easier to test things with out. Otherwise, it would just be a series of outfits that make me look fat."

The sith taps at her chin, then grins at Poc, "Hey, hello! This one is Cryosanthia, a Speaker for the Sith Makar. It's good to see you looking better. We're playing around with a clothes thing."

Cryo concentrates for a moment, a wide grin spreading on her face. She concentraes, meditates on the crystal. "Well I thought it, now I have to. So... do these clothes make me look fat?"

Oh boy...

Cryo eyes the men, daring them to answer.

"Yes," Merek says.

Braelnoir arches an eyebrow, "In th'right circumstances, everyone pays th'bill." she quips to Ezil, "Ya'll probably want t'wear a spike gauntlet like mine an' mebbe a buckler. Bills are real tough t'use in close, but in it's ideal range? Right nasty piece, that." Merek's remark gets a wink, "Know it, luv!" And she turns to Cryo to see what sort of outfit she comes up with, though she misses the transition with Poc's boisterous entrance, "Oh, hey, Poc, 'how ya feelin'?" The question brings the chimera's eyes back toward the dragonling and the little bard in her head breaks another lute string.

"Well met, Poc! Welcome to the Fernwood.... again, apparently." Ezil's smile still broad as he places his order, looking to the gobber. "You want a drink? I'm buying." extending his hospitality to the new arrival without a second thought. "I am Ezil, All-Friend." musing as he also turns to place an order for something to eat for the table, a large bowl of breads, and some meats. "White-One, is the cheese any good here?" he calls back, seeming to think the Sith-Makar would know, but then her queston finally sinking in. "My Mam told me never to answer that question. It's a trap..."

"I thought more for the workout, and practice. I'm all about the swords, Brael. I... don't know if I can lose my shield either. It's a beautiful piece." Ezil smirking after, heading towards the table. "I'll take some cheese too!" deciding not to wait for an answer.

"Hello Cryosanthia, grand Speaker. Playing with clothes?" Poc puts hands on his hips as he tries to look at what's afoot. "Is very good Poc is better, yes? Very very good. Broth give Poc lots of energy!" The question posed to her earns a shrug. "Being fat good. Won't starve. So clothes good." How diplomatic. "Poc feeling good, Braelnoir. Thanks for asking." At the offer of a free drink, Poc flicks his thumb up in response. "Poc wants all free things. Please give Poc free drink." There's a beat in his pause. "Ezil all friend? Friend of all? That's a lot of friends."

Cryo grins at the others. She's wearing, well, what appears to be some sort of dragon costume, a full suit complete with feet, and a hoodie and felt fangs that hang from a long snout. It is padded, like it's own sleeping bag. On top of that, are comedic looking overalls, and a clown-ish shirt. For all the apparent bulk it seems light, as if a lot of it is hoops. There are a lot of colours.

"Thank you Poc, that's very kind. The rest of you are cowards. Hmmm... what should I try next. Oh! I could try a stage suit!" She concentrates, focuses on her arm, and then the clothes change. She is wearing a skin tight, matt-black suit, some sort of felt, it even covers her eyes. It's a very strange contrast to her usual appearance, now she looks like a black hole where she used to be.

GAME: Merek rolls wisdom: (12)+4: 16

"Hey, I also said it made you..." Merek then notices that he is about to say something that would be really idiotic to say, then he pats Ezil, "You, deal with that, I am going to drink! Hey Poc!" he adds to that goblin.

Braelnoir nods, "Well, if ya ever get t'experimenting, there's a similar design... a lochaber I think it's called, we used them a few times. Naaa-sty." she offer to Ezil, then assures Poc, "Good t'hear, Poc! Glad yer doin better." She kind of goes back to Cryo's look and, "I've.... what's a stage suit...?"

"Only a fool runs into a trap." Ezil muses, finding a seat. "Poc has the right idea. Fat or skinny. All is about the virtue of what one has at the moment. Down right little philosopher." changing the topic as he looks back to Cryosanthia with a don't-kill-me look. "It's... unique. I think I would buy that to sleep in, though it might be better if it was a rabbit? You're already part dragon. That's just overkill."

"All-Friend means I am there for any who need it. Need to cry? I'm there. Need protection from evil, or just your bully? I'm there. Need a barrel moved? Okay, not my ideal situation... but I'm there." Ezil explains to Poc, looking up to Braelnoir. "Lochaber? I.... we should really spar sometime ya know? I'd enjoy it."

"KAKAKA!" Poc laughs heartily at Cryo's compliment, hands on his hips in a 'successful victory' pose. You'd have thunk he slayed a dragon or something. "Poc IS kind, hm? Poc no coward. Poc bravest in all of forest. Only Poc wanted to leave to chase Red Capes." A wave goes to Merek, the smile clear from behind the wooden mask that covers his face.

"Anyone here know where Red Capes are? They group of bandit humans. Poc hunting for them." That question is left hanging there even as Cryo turns into a black hole, which earns a curious look from the diminutive gobber. "That looks bad. Turn off! Turn off!" Nope. He didn't like that one. "Poc like dragon more. Has more guts! More feels!" The explanation from Ezil regarding what exactly he is earns an 'oooooh', and for a moment the big-eared creature is in awe. "Ezil help Poc find Red Capes?"

"On stage, when the set pieces have to be moved around, the stage-hands run on, grab the thing, and put it somewhere else or offstage. They also bring on things. They wear these black suits so they're easy for the audience to ignore. Usually it's when the backdrops are changing and the black one is showing." Cryosanthia explains. "Okay, okay, one more, to blend in here. The serving wench."

Her clothes transform. It's a classic tavern wench, boots, a medium brown skirth, a laced up corset, puffy white shirt, ruffled shoulders and short sleeves. It does have a plunging neckline though there is a high neck shirt in a different colour beneath that and Oh... that doesn't look right. She's added some rather specific padding. Sith do not have those curves! Elves might... but on a lizard it's just so wrong! She watches Ezil carefully, "What do _you_ think Ezil?"

GAME: Merek rolls will: (7)+17: 24
GAME: Ezil rolls will: (6)+9: 15

Merek watches for a bit while he wonders what Cryo is up to, then while about to speak with Brae as well as Ezil and Poc, he notices the new attire. He then begins to laugh, in fact can anyone in the place ever remember him laughing. Rare from him, though the classics are always nice! It's like straight from the novel!

Ezil pauses his merriment at Poc's words. "Tell us about these Red Cape's, Poc." his tone still friendly, but like a switch... it's suddenly business. That is till he hears Cryosanthia's words, looking up to go wide-eyed and then no eye contact. Nope, his head hits the table with an audible *thump*. "Damn-it, White-One!" his snickering heard, even after causing his own trauma. "I..." laughing harder as he doesn't raise his head. "Who taught you that!" raising his head with a look of shock, but he's amused. Amused with a red mark on his forehead. "I was trying to be serious!"

The drinks soon arriving, earning Cryosanthia a blinking glance from the other waitress.

Braelnoir cants her head, "Lemme get some thumbs, luv, I'll have plenty of practice t'catch up on." she replies with a grin, then gives a little yawn. Seeing Merek laugh gives her some small spark of hope on his recovery, then she turns to Cryo for an appraisal, "Not going fer the little bonnet, luv?" she winks. She brings a paw up to her brow in a loose salute, "Gonna get some shuteye an', plannin' some trainin' tomorrow. Have fun, m'luvlies! Cry, we're gonna have compare notes on these things, sometime!" and with that, the chimera is moving up the stairs, transitioning to a sort of satiny burgundy robe along the way.

Poc watches the final transformation, head tilting a little bit. "Boo-boo." The comment is made as he makes the shape of an 'X' with his arms, crossing them over with a shake of his head. "That better then black outfit, but dragon outfit still best." When the drinks arrive, the gobber is keen as mustard to grab his own. Free stuff is always the best. "Ezil want to know of Red Capes? HMMM. They humans. Bad humans. Kill Poc's whole family." This explanation is made to the group as a whole, beady yellow eyes drifting from one adventurer to the next. "Maybe Cryosanthia teach Poc how to turn into dragon costume? That good to scare humans." With both hands gripped around his glass the goblin starts sipping whatever it is had been gifted to him.

"They're fake, don't worry!" Cryo laughs at the other waitress. She coos in admiration at Braelnoir's burgundy robe, "Oh, that is nice."

"She did Ezil, so much. Heh, it's for fun. I'd be mortified if a sith came in and saw me like this." She concentrates on her armband and there is a deflating, but otherwise no alteration beyond the serving headpiece appearing on her head. She glances at the door, "I haven't seen one in here in a long while... maybe an experiment, see if the tips get better. Nah, that'd upset the others even more."

Her tail coils from side to side, she smiles at Poc, "Sure, it's easy. Just needs a magic thing. It's expensive but not too expensive if you think it's all the clothes you'll ever need from then on."

Also, "If you go hunting Red Caps Ezil, I'd like to help."

Merek does finish what looks like a map, which he gives to Poc, that will definitely bring him to goblin town. If that was back in the mountains. Then he looks to Ezil and Poc in thought, nodding a bit with a wave to Brae. The story looks to make the man thoughtful, then it's back to Cryo. "I am glad you are having fun." He does look satisfied with his magical work bringing people happiness. The man does stand up, "I need to get a little nap in, then I'll bring you all the potions!"

Ezil nods to Cryosanthia. "I have a mind to go hunting." his tone serious again. "Potions?" momentarily distracted by Merek as the man leaves, letting that question hang. With a shrug he looks back at Poc with a sigh. "Poc... you have my word. Anyone here would help you. We just need to find them, or something to start a search with." he says simply. "We don't tolerate that kind of thing. None of us." he assures.

"Poc no wear much clothes." The goblin announces in a grandeur manner, though what he's wearing at the moment. It' just a sort of loose kilt that covers his nether regions, with various strappings elsewhere on his body. "But dragon outfit would be good disguise. Hmm. Expensive? Poc no have much money." With a guilty rub of the back of his head, he looks curiously to those gathered, before taking the map. The goblin is absolutely atrocious when it comes to navigation, so the map will definitely be of use. That's clear evident just by the way he holds himself, straightening considerably to look upon it with glee. "Thanks, Merek! Enjoy sleep. Poc will take and use map to navigate to glory." He holds the map up high above his head.

"Humans okay to kill other humans?" Poc asks, sounding a bit stunned. "Poc needs all help Poc can get! Will find Ezil and others when Red Capes are found."

"We are okay with killing bandits." Cryosanthia reples, "Alexandria is very interested in that happening. And I'll keep the dragon costume, I'l use it for something."

She rises up onto her feet. Her clothes changing back into the sleeping shirt, "This one must to bed. Night Ezil, night everyone."

She passes close to Ezil, and leans in as if she might kiss him. Instead she whispers something in his ear, winks and heads to the back in a volumous shirt that is more like a shapeless, small tent.

"All-Friend means I side with those who need Telmentar's help. Anyone, regardless of race. If my kin disrespect that? So be it. They made their bed, Poc." Ezil says with an indifferent tone. "Speak softly, but carry a big stick. It's Althea's way. We're all her children." still offering his services as his glance trails Cryosanthia after her whispers, blushing. "The White-One doesn't like bullies and murderers either." his glance lingering on her fading form with confusion on his face.

"Sleep well, Cryosanthia." The parting words to the lizard being are made with a wave with the hand that holds the map, before attention turns to Ezil once more. "That sounds like hard job, Ezil. Mighty job! But hard." Certainly it was an impressive job title. "Poc likes big sticks." The gobber grins. "Poc make bow from big stick." The goblin unhooks the longbow from around his form. Much like he is, the thing is small. But it seems reasonably well crafted if nothing else. "Where Poc find Ezil and Cryosanthia normally? If Poc find Red Capes."

Ezil makes a motion all about himself. "We usually gather here at the Fernwood, Poc. It's rare we gather elsewhere on purpose." musing as he shifts and takes up his drink. It's different than the others, a small-beer, something watery compared to what he bought everyone else. "If not here, Cryosanthia would be it Mictlan, and I.... the Temple of Althea, or the northern stables. All good places to find us." he imparts with a smile. "If you see a purple wagon with a blue roof? That's me. Make sure it's being pulled by two mules though."

"Ezil a traveller too?" Poc wonders aloud, slinging his bow back across his body. "Stables. Pub. Wagon. Temple." Repeating the locations on where he's likely to find them all. This is all done as he drinks more of whatever-it-is he is downing. "Poc discovering a lot of new foods and drinks in this city. Poc used to living in woods with elves. They eat boring foods." The goblin sticks out his tongue in some disgust. "Ezil know where to get good foods? Also! Better question. Ezil know how Poc can make moneys?"

"The Guild is a good place to make money, Poc. They offer odd jobs, and pay well. Cryosanthia works here in her free time, and..... yes." Ezil's tone shifting as he sits forward and sips his drink. "I am a traveler. My Tsuran blood is strong. I come from The Vast, and crossed the Sundered Sea of Time to come here. It's at the edge of the world." he admits, offering Poc a warm glance. "There is gunpowder chili in Goblintown. Some great food stalls near the airship docks. Alexandria is littered with places for good food." speaking of that, the bread, meats, and cheeses arrive on a platter after everyone had gone. "I lived for years on the road, Poc. I dislike bland food too."

The description of where Ezil is from earns a looonnnggg and hard look from Poc. Though Ezil cannot see it because of the mask obscuring his face, the gobber's mouth is hanging wide open in awe. He may just see the wide beady eyes from behind his mask though! A travelling person who crossed a SUNDERED SEA OF TIME. From THE EDGE OF THE WORLD. It sounds fantastical. Unbelievable. But there's something in Ezil's words that make it believable. "...Poc... just from forest." >___>; It didn't quite have the same sort of punch. "But Poc is KING GOBLIN of forest." Hmph.

"Ezil tell Poc more about Guild? What Guild it is?" Curiously the goblin looks at his map, just in case Merek illustrated any guild for him. "Goblintown sounds like heaven. Poc like spicy foods." With a sniff he considers a thought, putting away the map by strapping it under some wrapping on his wrist. "Ezil still traveller? Or live here in big city now?"

"Traveler at heart. I don't stay here because I wish. I stay here because it is where Telmentar has guided me." The Tsuran muses. He uses his people's name for Althea, thinking then for a moment as he occupies his free hand with a bit of cheese, taking a bite. "I wouldn't think where I come from too fancy. My people roam, Poc. We travel The Vast and have lived there as.... wanderes for generations. It's just what we call our home." smirking then. "The Sea of Tsundered Time is a different matter, but it's not understood by anyone." seeming to think these things normal, dismissing them with a wave of his hand, and cheese.

"The Adventurer's Guild is also at times... called the Explorer's guild. Alexandria has the largest force of employed adventurers in the world. Or so they say. I do jobs for them, but I also work for the Temple of Althea, and.... for myself. I'm not from here, so my ties to these factions are loose. Though I make good enough coin. You will too in time, so don't worry. It's easy to register. It's near Goblintown too, which.... is convenient."

"Really? How Telmentar do that?" While Poc isn't across all of the different religions, he knew enough to know that being 'guided' was certainly something special. "It very fancy. Ezil embrace where Ezil from! Like lizard lady with dragon costume. It good to be different." Though he's keen to ask more, the dismissed notion of it causes him to nod just a bit. "That lucky! Poc will register with guild when eating spicy food. Then Poc will make lots of money! Kakaka!" Polishing off his drink, the goblin bellllches loudly before putting the glass back on the table. Getting out the map once more, Poc examines the thing carefully. "Poc going to go right now while still on mind. Ezil be very safe! Ezil good friend of Poc now. Poc no know what Poc do without Ezil." Oh dear. That has quickly become a hard dependency! With a brief wave he turns and pivots, heading out for the exit with a bounce in his step.

"I imagine you would be fine, Poc." Ezil laughs, his smile broadening at the little Goblin, despite not being able to see his face. "You will find many here are like I am." standing and setting his mug on the table. "Sentinel means... I am blessed by Telmentar. She doesn't 'speak' to me, but I do know some of what she wants." he explains, collecting some bread, and meats together from the plate, and taking out a kerchief to quickly wrap them. "Here, Poc. Take these and have a good evening. I have a tab to settle, and... you seem to have places to be." offering the bit of cloth and food befoe he goes to settle up.

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