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laxon

Fireplace

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- Last Post -

 

This is one of the main features of this establishment.

open on both sides and is both warming to the body and the heart.

 

Spent endless hours peering at the ever changing flames.

 

-Laxon

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...

 

 

Dove cuddled up on the hearth, forsaking tables and stage in the empty inn. Without a friendly face to share it with, what was the point?

 

With a sigh, she turned to the flames. "Liveliest thing here, seems," she told them, rubbing her hands together to dispel the last of the road's cold from her bones. "Perhaps more later on, yes? And then talk. And music. And stories. Oh yes, stories."

 

She glanced over at the bar, searching for sight of the innkeep. "Suppose stepped out," she mused. The glitter of flames on glass bottles caught her eye and her fingers twitched. Sighing once more, she resolutely sat on her hands. She'd make no friends making off with the inn's best brandy. With luck, the innkeeper might let her have a bottle when he returned.

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Lromm had always been a people person. He maintained this fact to his dying day. There were those, of course, who would argue with him on that point; those who perhaps valued privacy and discretion a bit more than the friendly swordsman. As it were, Lromm never could resist greeting anyone within seeing distance, and as such promptly walked towards the fireplace, where he saw an individual who could only be described as "interesting". It was always nice to socialize, after all.

 

There was also that incident with the troll and the lake. Though he was quite sure he didn't smell -- by the Nine, that had taken ages to take out -- he wasn't entirely sure he'd be completely dry for the next week or so. So a fire seemed like a good idea. Plopping down fairly near to the only other person he saw, he extended a hand and merrilly chirped out,

 

"Greetings, friend! The name's Lromm Runlind!"

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A rumbling voice that seemed to come from the rafters interrupted Dove's meditation on the fire. She pulled her hands out of her skirts and grinned. At last! Someone to talk to!

 

"Dove. Am Dove." She looked at the huge hand engulfing her own, and then up. Even sitting down, she almost had to crane her neck to look him in the eye. "Are tall, know that?"

 

 

(OOC: Since when do Nords chirp? :biggrin: )

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(OOC: Thought the same thing myself. XD)

 

Predictably, Lromm grinned. He seemed to do that a lot. Particularly in pitched combat, which he was told was positively unnerving.

 

"In the right circles, yes. But then again, it's all about perspective, isn't it? I had a friend once, an Altmer, who was about a head taller than me. Looked like he was made of sticks, mind, but the man could blast you to oblivion if you gave him a reason," Lromm said, laughing happily. "So, do you know this place any better than myself, if you don't mind my asking? It's my first time here, truth be told."

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"First time, too. I travel. Not stay in one place long. Usually. This place, though...maybe stay longer." She waved a hand. "Good tables. Stories in them. Like stories. Bet you have stories."

 

She glanced around the room again, noticing a Dunmer who'd just come in. Still no one behind the bar, though. "Like cider, too, but none right now," she grumbled, before raising her voice a little to call over to the Dunmer, "Are a regular? Know this place?"

 

She hoped he could hear her over the crackling of the flames.

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Dove smiled up at the Dunmer, happy that he'd heard her. And here came another man from over by the bar. My, all so tall! "Seems to all be strangers, yes? Many strangers, many stories - very good! What your name? Who are you?"

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"Zekkedayeahjustzekke," she repeated dutifully, then giggled at the look on his face. "Old joke, am sorry. I travel. Gather stories as farmer gathers crop. Not fighter, sad to say. Get stories from others. Been lots of places, yes? And you? You fight for others or for self? Me, gather stories for self." One hand went to her pouch. "Share sometimes, though."

 

The Nord's eyes looked like they were starting to glaze over. She wondered if she was talking too fast again.

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Arriving from the bar, Rake looked from one face to the next. The somewhat glassy-eyed 'Nord', the playful and incredibly small elf, and the Dunmer.

 

In a quiet voice, but one that hinted towards something louder, Rake asked:

"If I may intrude on this conversation, I wouldn't mind taking a seat with you. I have a few tales that I can tell, if you are interested. And, in turn, perhaps I may hear a few of yours..."

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*OOC*

I'm off for the night. Apparently so is everyone else....not that they left.

 

 

With a groaning pressure, Rake steps back into a maw of darkness, temporarily leaving the Inn.

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"Ah, sorry, must have snapped out of it. You both just... reminded me of some people that I knew," Lromm said, his voice more contemplative than joyous, for once. "No matter. Who was that fellow, anyway? The one who came and then left? Oh, well. Don't suppose it matters now, does it?"

 

---

 

(OOC: A rule dictating that one must "leave the Inn" when one goes offline is... really quite tedious. Wouldn't an OOC message suffice? Because, for example, Silencer's character just looked kind of like an idiot. "Hello. Oh, good bye." RP's are seldom done in real time, and those who are shouldn't be on a forum. Just some food for thought.)

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(( Thats why I thought that to be a rule that just would have to be changed. How would you run it so that people can continue the conversation? If you don't leave and they don't know you left they could chat then they leave and you come back or someone else comes in and they don't know who is there and they cant really say much because they don't know who is there. It would just be messy. Plus the in is almost like a dimension pocket, you come from your plane and you go back to your plane, the character usually would not live at the inn at all. Unless they wish to which is always an option. I wrote up the big description now I am typing up the whole content doc for the site. Lets talk of this in the Rules post this is a relatively new concept so we need to refine it more.)

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Lromm turned to the man named Zekke, intrigued.

 

"You're a swordsman, you say? I don't suppose you'd be interested in some lessons? I'm running a little short right now, and offering my services is the only real way I can make any money," Lromm said, chuckling a bit.

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"Story, story..." Dove began digging through her one of her pouches, oblivious to the conversations going on around her. This one...? No, maybe this one... What kind of story was best for the beginning? Ah!

 

But when she finally pulled out the object she was searching for, the big man with the sword had disappeared. "One of us rude," she told the empty air. "Likely me for no explaining. Another time, maybe. Soon, yes?" She shoved the object she was holding back into her pouch and then perked up. "Wine!"

 

She slid off of the hearth and walked over to the bar, calling back over her shoulder, "Come, come! Innkeep here!"

 

 

(OOC: Crap, forgot about the 'posting when you leave thing' completely.)

 

 

[Dove has left the Fireplace.]

 

...

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"No, I think I can get by for now." Zekke shrugged. "I'm good enough to make a living at least." The Dunmer laughed. make a living, was a more polite term for cutting whoever his employers wanted dead.

 

"Ah, just never forget that there's always someone better than you. Although, truth be told, I hope I never have to meet the man who's better than I am," Lromm said, shaking his head. It wasn't arrogance that led him to talk so openly about his prodigious skill; just honesty. Lromm was habitually truthful, to a definite fault, and didn't pretend that he wasn't as good as he was. "Oh, the innkeep's here. Wonder if he has anything light... between you and me, I've never had much of a stomach for strong stuff."

 

Laughing -- as usual -- Lromm got up from the hearth, feeling much warmer, and headed towards the counter. His stomach grumbled, and he realized he hadn't eaten anything in ages. He hoped the barman sold some sort of food

 

(OOC: Innkeep ho! Also, homework ho. :/ I'll post that later.)

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((OOC arg,,, slept in as usual. Sleep and me just don't get along. Ok I am back in the inn. I do have lots of work to do outside of mc right now so I will be on and off.))

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...

 

Dove hummed along with the music, letting the flames warm her back, listening quietly to the voices at the Sun table. A story for free - a story of a murder that could be told with the septim coin she'd been given. As for the seer...whiskey apparently loosened her tongue nicely. A pity that she never stayed long enough to talk a whole story.

 

She curled her legs up close to her body, watching the commotion at the bar. Huh. That was one amazing ventriloquist act. When Kyn lumbered past the hearth again, the fire died a bit, and Dove let out a squeak of outrage. "Yes, know is scary," she growled at it, "but don't see me hiding, do you? Grow some...er...logs."

 

She giggled at her joke, and resolved to put it into one of her stories. Embellishments were always good. She pricked up her ears again to eavesdrop on the Sun table once more.

 

(Dove's...sorta left the Fireplace. Not really.)

 

...

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Aradhel plopped down next to Dove and drew her legs up to her chest. She would sit here for a minute, and then she would ask the inkeep if he had a potion that got rid of drunkeness. Or perhaps she would just ask him to dump a bucket of icewater over her head.

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Booor-ring.

 

Aradhel yawned. Between the time that had passed and the heat from the fireplace she was starting to feel more like herself. She had also noticed that the two creatures at the sun table had fallen into a 'my-sword-is-scarier-than-your-tentacle' battle. Really. How ordinary.

 

She was much more interested in the patron who had just walked in: the blonde Mer was much too clean for a place like this, and carried himself like he thought he was the God of the Elves. Aradhel hid a snicker behind her hand.

 

She elbowed Dove. "Look at him," she whispered, "Did he lose his way, or what?"

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...

 

Dove looked away from the sword to the lute-carrying elf. "Is Bosmer, yes? Blond Bosmer." She giggled. "Have had odd experiences with blond Bosmer before. But everyone knows that story. But yes, not usual place. Will be interesting. Can't wait. Hope Kyn doesn't eat."

 

She sighed. "Still want to touch sword, though. Shiny. Very nice. Very old."

 

(OOC: I've noticed that the more tired I am, the shorter sentences Dove uses.)

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Blond Bosmer. Aradhel's right hand twitched reflextivly. "I hope Kyn - that's it's name, Kyn? - doesn't eat him either. Probably be messy."

 

There was a loud tearing sound from the door. Aradhel and Dove both turned around and watched through the flames as a blackened corpse was suddenly hurtled across the floor, leaving a long skidmark of blood. It hit the base of the Moon Table with a thunk. Dove jumped. "'S'okay," said Aradhel, "it's only a dead body. I've seen worse: there was one -"

 

Her voice faltered as the very very very very very dead body twitched, shuddered, and...began to heal itself.

 

Aradhel turned away and very firmly closed her eyes. This is not happening. She didn't even open them at the sound of a scuffle from the bar. Probably just Drubin making an untimely pass at the waitress again. One of the voice's was definitely a woman's; it sounded oddly familiar, though. Almost like Reina's. She didn't open her eyes to check.

 

 

OOC: I'm assuming that the hearth is open on both sides, so that you can indeed look over/through the flames

Edited by Morrigain

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"Hah! Glad doesn't need healing help. One time tried, patient end up with one too many fingers." She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Probably wouldn't have been so bad if were on hand. Could've sworn was right place. Little mistake. Can't be blamed really, yes?"

 

She tilted the head to the side. "Can open your eyes soon. Unless...nope, nope...clothing in decent shape. No problem there." She giggled, enjoying a private joke. "Seer friend is in bad mood, yes? Think I should go talk to? Should go talk to! Good idea!" She stood and headed over to the shady table, calling over her shoulder, "Fix if breaks me, yes? Should come too, yes? Maybe keep from breaking me? Good! Whenever are ready!"

 

[Dove has left the Fireplace]

 

...

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Guest theinfamouskat

OOC: Oh God. This won't end well. *crosses fingers* God I hope Reina behaves. *thinks about the character for a moment* Shit.

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Chatter chatter chatter chatter. The constant stream of words from her companion was soothing. Arahdel was only listening with half an ear, so she didn't realize what Dove had said until the bard had already left and the space beside her was growing cold.

 

How did she know that Reina was a seer?!

 

Cursing, Aradhel clambered to her feet. Dove and Reina at the same table was a frightening idea. This would quickly fizz and explode like that horrible alchemy experiment she'd done years ago (bloodgrass and troll fat on a high flame...Aradhel winced). If heads were going to roll tonight, she wanted to be there...and she wanted to find out what else the brightly-colored bard knew. She hadn't felt like this much of a fool in years.

 

Taking a deep breath, she headed toward the shady table after Dove's small form. Her left hand reached up to curl around her necklace; her right flexed open and closed at her side.

 

Aradhel has left the fireplace.

Edited by Morrigain

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