A predator walks in the Tavern

Meatloaf

The wind kicks leaves across the cobbled roads and kisses the fur on his mane as he walks towards the familiar aroma of the local tavern. Looking side to side and observing all of the possible entrances and exits is just a common practice of his not because he needs a way to escape but because he wants to know where the prey is most likely to escape from. Pulling down his hood he makes his way into the tavern and pulls up a stool to the bar. Standing out among the sea of adventurers a 6ft+ Leonin Tulnar with sharp eyes and an even sharper wit. He motions over to the barkeep and drops a bag of gold on the bar, looks up, and growls in a low tone "A round for the tavern...it was a good hunt".

(Join in let's have a good time in the bar guys, introduce your characters, and let's chat. The link below is just the shortened YT vid of me coming up with the character.)


https://youtube.com/watch?v=8qJ6R0NOgVU&t=5s

Meatloaf

You seem to think that this is your basic tavern, another piece of your usual backdrop in yet another mundane town..and you are correct (mostly). You see with just a glance and I mean a glance; the kind of glance everyone gives the same street they walk down every day for the last decade, the kind of glance that simply accepts all things as long as they are not too out of the norm; yea with that kind of glance you would only see your typical tavern(and massive run-on sentence). This tavern however upon closer inspection reveals that the ordinary appearance is not so ordinary, the devil is in the details. The wood used in the construction of this bar is from lands further away from this cozy town than even the bards dare to spin into tales while working the crowds; from lands that when referenced are sprinkled with words like legend, myth, and "yea that place doesn't exist". You see, the owner of this tavern has long since retired from a life of gathering titles, treasures, and scars; he has retired from being who he once was and now only prefers to be called "Hey, another ale over here". So as you walk by this mundane scene, destined to let this tavern become just another blur in your peripheral vision, just give it another thought. I guess what this narrator is trying to say is,
"Come on into Kegs Bane Keep, and share your story."

Janaos

(Not good at this type of stuff but il give it a shot 😅)

As the drinks our poured, and the spirits are lifted, the tavern starts livening up, the previously quite conversations, are magnified into a bustling cacophony of sound, that resonates around the tavern. Leonin Turner (assuming that’s his name) seemed to be the life of the party with a huge stream of Adventurers around him, such was to be expected, after all he had brought almost as many golden opinions as real gold to the the tavern. Boasting a successful adventuring career not many could stand up to, he was by far the most obvious ‘big-shot’ around. But the most dangerous people are rarely at the centre of the party.

Among the continuously expanding crowds, not many managed to stand out. But such was not the case for Joarius, though not too tall in stature, it was his magnificent build that really raised eyebrows, the proportions, the size, all was on point with his chilled shape. He was the sort of figure that one could imagine some ancient statue being based upon. His brown eyes pierced the room searching for something, someone, in the warm light of the tavern they looked almost golden, full of energy, but also rich in wisdom. He wore light clothes, clothes that although didn’t posses fancy patters or marks, extorted a feeling of importance, of strength. To his left a short sword was covered by a similarly plain sheath, yet the handle, the only visible part, was greatly decorated with weird letters, or maybe numbers, really one had no way to tell for it was not a language that anyone knew. He sat there, carefully sipping beer, as one would sip maybe wine. He sat there sipping, still searching, uninterrupted by the load noises of those around him.

SaltyOnigiri

Yte’s long elven ears, her most prided feature, lay mostly covered by clumps of unbrushed, wild, chestnut colored locks that seemed to tell a story much larger than the individual they clung to. Her skin, always a dark reddish fawn, had burned and freckled under the summer’s sun hidden only by the traditional white Py’rai paint that ran across her nose and forehead.

She found herself once again biting her lip, an unfortunate bad habit she’d been unable to kick for centuries, in concentration as she stared deeply at the contents of her newfound guide, a book so large that she would have disappeared if not for the wooden antlers peeking out of the side of her head.

She let out a short, excited, audible gasp, catching the attention of the tavern owner, who she assumed was tired of her shenanigans. She lept out of her chair, closing the book with a swift thump. Her copper colored eyes reflected her change in mood widening as she frantically stuffed numerous tools and trinkets she had dumped onto the table back into a brown satchel before making a beeline for the door, stopping only to toss a few coins on the table where she had once again left her food and drink untouched.

(Note: I’ve never roleplayed before so please give me pointers if there’s anything I should adjust!)

Meatloaf

@SaltyOnigiri @Janaos You 2 are doing great!

Beauchee

As you enter the tavern, the hushed murmurs of patrons go silent, their eyes fixated on the figure that has just crossed the threshold. Standing tall at 6'2", the newcomer is clearly not human. The scales that adorn his body reflect the light of the flickering torches, giving him an otherworldly glow.

The man introduces himself as Beauchee, a Tulnar from the far reaches of the land. His presence commands attention, and it's not just because of his imposing height or the shimmering swords at his side. His armor, a full plate style that covers every inch of his body except for his head, is a testament to his strength and experience. It's clear that he's seen his fair share of battles, and he carries himself with the confidence of a seasoned adventurer.

The swords at his side are equally impressive. Made of an unknown shiny metal, they seem to almost glow with a magical energy. As he draws them from their scabbards, they sing with a sound that is almost musical. It's clear that Beauchee is not to be trifled with. His mere presence in the tavern is enough to give even the bravest of patrons pause. But despite his intimidating appearance, there's a kindness in his eyes that belies his fearsome exterior.

As he takes a seat at the bar, Beauchee orders a pint and nods to those around him in greeting. It's clear that he's not looking for trouble, but woe betide anyone who tries to cross him. For this Tulnar sentinel is a force to be reckoned with, and his legend is only just beginning.

(not sure if talking about myself in the 3rd person is sane but oh well)

Aszkalon

Janaos wrote: »

(Not good at this type of stuff but il give it a shot 😅)

I think You did very well. Especially when you truly think You are not good at this. ;->