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Post by DM Cyphus on Jan 11, 2006 14:40:56 GMT -5
"They ain't got to be wearin' a medal around their necks to be wizard-folk. Some of 'em don't. 'Specially the new ones," the man arguing in favor of the Gnome being a Mage retorted.
"You don't know. They wear special colors," his friend shot back, convinced the Gnome was nothing more than a regular Gnome, "and they give the new ones medals too. They just mean somethin' different for the new ones. And you have to have special training to see the difference. To us they all look the same."
"You don't know a damned thing, fool," was the angry reply, "he is wearing a special color! He's wearin' black!"
"Nobody's colors is black. They're all purple or green."
"Nope...that's just the ones in True Lantan. Other places have black."
More drinks were ordered.
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Post by delkar on Jan 11, 2006 16:00:34 GMT -5
"Excellant! As far as I was told, it was a shipment of silk along with her family." Arelian replied then turning to notice the gnome that the two men where talking about with a thoughtful expression.
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Post by jamondashwood on Jan 11, 2006 16:12:26 GMT -5
The gnome smiles, he always preferred when people were on edge around him. Gnomes were rather small creatures and usually kept to themselves. Even for a gnome, Jervis was rather on the small side. That is why he took to the mystical arts, few in Lantan understood the art most preferred their gadgets. Fewer still undertook the painstaking process of educating themselves in the art of Necromancy, he took great pride in the cloak he wore. Dead black, he grinned at the name. Necromancy was the study of the dead, or rather of life and death. Illusion could fool the eye, but only Necromancy could steal away the power of death.
His ears, like all of his people, were sharp and the customers made no effort to hide their conversation. Jervis climbed from his chair and made his way over to the table his face hidden from within the folds of his cloak. When he spoke it was the in the voice that sounded like crumbling leaves. "I had intended to study this afternoon." he glances back to his table where the remains of the wilted flower still lay. "Perhaps if this argument is settled I can return to it." He looks at both men curiously a moment as if deciding something important. "I propose a trade. I shall buy you another ale, and you will tell me all about the most recent passing of a loved one? You know, there is much to be learned from death. For each the experience is different." He begins to speak about how for some they consider death a release and joy where the spirit is free to be with the god they loved in life. In other cases death is ultimate sadness of loss and love.
While the gnome is rather short, he waxes on about the impact of death at some length his voice shifting only occasionally from the monotone, crumblings he started with.
"I came here," he says at one point "to observe the town known to all as the hub of adventures and bandits. Oh yes, there are bandits about who would murder you as soon as look at you. Murder is such an interesting subject. Even in this town there are those not much better than the bandits outside. They come here seeking to make a living off hard working folk. Many are robbed, some still are killed even in the streets!" for the first time his voice has some emotion a piqued curiosity.
Then snapping out of it he seems to realize he's waxed on at length. "What do you say?" he asks stretching out a hand and saying as he does so several words in a seemingly strange language. A mug on a tray of a nearby waitress floats from its place and rests on the table in front of the gnome. As his hand moves to point the black cloak and small medallion can be seen tucked away from prying eyes or searching fingers.
"What are you willing to tell me?"
(OOC: if they are willing to talk, Great! He'll take notes. If not, he'll take his ale and return to the table paying the maid before he leaves the inn.)
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Post by DM Cyphus on Jan 11, 2006 17:16:25 GMT -5
As Arelian eyes over his shoulder, the small humanoid he had turned to take notice of was halfway to him. The creepy sight of such a small creature, cloaked in black with a face that was impossible to see under the folds of his hood, was nearly startling as he calmly made his way toward the half-drunken men discussing him so loudly.
The men and several others nearby seem to be disturbed suddenly by the Gnome's presence and their current surroundings. A man at the next table cautiously gets up and leaves the Inn altogether.
As the ale floats from the waitress' tray, the entire room quiets a bit and watches as it lands perfectly on the table. Both men remain speechless for a moment as they eye the medallion around the Gnomes neck.
The man who'd originally been convinced that the Gnome was not in fact a Mage, clears his throat quietly and tries to speak up. "Um," he begins somewhat wobbly, "sorry, sir. We, uh, we, uh, didn't mean to interrupt your book lookin' sir. Thank you, though, uh, for the...ale. Thank you, sir. We, uh...we'll be a leavin' now. We have chores that need a tendin' to. Um...sorry again sir."
Very slowly both men start to rise. They look around the room cautiously and make their way to the exit without touching or looking directly at anyone. Once outside, both men take off in a dead run heading east.
The Gnome grabs the ale and walks slowly back to the table. It is a short while before conversation picks back up...and for the rest of the evening it manages to rise nowhere near the level it had been before this latest disturbance. Hushed tones all about suggest gossip and talk about the strange, black-cloaked man.
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Post by delkar on Jan 11, 2006 17:43:30 GMT -5
Deciding to make his move Arelian turned and called to the gnome before he got to far. "Excuse me master gnome, might I borrow some of your time?"
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Post by silentblade on Jan 11, 2006 18:10:58 GMT -5
The elf leans in close to Arelian and whispers, "He ain't nothing more than a common criminal that one. I spotted him trying to lift the purse of that man." he smirks slightly, "If your going to steal you better make sure the mark is worth it."
Kesson leans back and takes another long pull from his ale, "By the way whats your name?" he offers a nod, "I go by Kesson."
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Post by delkar on Jan 11, 2006 18:33:15 GMT -5
"I go by the name Jack." Arelian says with a nod. "One always needs to watch where his hands are." He finishes holding both up palms forward. "Don't worry, I don't go frisking other's purses without good cause. Its a good way to lose an hand..."
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Post by jamondashwood on Jan 11, 2006 18:35:14 GMT -5
The gnome pauses as he is addressed he raises the mug of ale to his lips somewhat disheartened his research had been inturupted by the men leaving. A discussion of the ways individuals reacted to the death of a loved one might have shed valuable insight to the way the populace looked upon the afterlife.
He turns and says to the man, the same man who had stopped the murder earlier a frown passes almost inperceptibly across his face from within the darkness of the hood. "You may." he says in answer to the question. "Speak your mind. Did you wish an ale in exchange for a tale of loss?" his gravely voice holds a hint of great interest if this might be the case.
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Post by delkar on Jan 11, 2006 18:42:41 GMT -5
"I can't say I have a tale of loss as you say. Yet I couldn't help overhearing...but from what I understand you are a mage of some sorts correct?"
"Perhaps you would be interested in a proposition?"
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Post by jamondashwood on Jan 11, 2006 18:47:23 GMT -5
Jervis had hoped this issue about if he was a mage or not had been laid to rest. Perhaps they would prefer it if he sprouted fire from his hands? Or some other overly flashy example of the arcane arts he studied. Still his frustration at the moment was not directed solely at the man in front of him. So skipping directly to the point he says, "What proposition would you care to make? Out with it, plainly now lad."
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Post by delkar on Jan 11, 2006 18:59:33 GMT -5
"We have been hired to guard a caravan as it makes it way to Lethtar and we are looking for a few more able bodied members wishing to sign on. The rate is five pieces a day, for four days."
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Post by jamondashwood on Jan 11, 2006 19:05:51 GMT -5
The gnome rubs his chin in contemplation and is silent for a long moment his head turning as if listening to distinct voices elsewhere in the room. He also apears to be mumbling. After a moment you realize he is actually talking to and answering several voices unheard. Then after several minutes of one-sided spoken conversation he finally says, "While I must admit the idea of guarding a caravan is less than attractive. It will be increadibly hard to read while doing so, and bloody well impossible to write. My coligues have made some very valid points on the possible chance I can further my research in the field. I will do this on two conditions. First, any man, woman or animal killed are to be seen to first by me. The first few moments of death are when the spirit leaves the body for the afterlife. It is in this area my thesis is involved." Possibly explaining his interest in seeing a murder. "Second, my spell components can some times be tricky to find in this damned place where magic is a bastardized citizen to invention. I wish first claim on any spiderwebs, eyeballs or insects of several kinds we might find along the way." He then nods to an unseen voice and asks, "What say you?"
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Post by delkar on Jan 11, 2006 19:31:25 GMT -5
Somewhat confused by the request Arelian doesn't see any real reason to deny it. "Um...by all means...We leave tommorow morning at the west gate."
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Post by jamondashwood on Jan 11, 2006 19:46:36 GMT -5
"Very well." he says "I will meet you in the common room at first light." He takes a few steps before he stops dead in his tracks cocking his head as if listening to another unheard voice. "Hmmm? What's that?" he asks to nobody.
"Oh, of course, you're quite right."
He turns back on his heels so quickly the cloak on his back spins and he marches, back to the man he had been speaking to with determined strides. "I am Jervis Dench." He then nods to the voice and turns away leaving again without a word. Social graces, it would seem were not the gnomes strong point.
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Post by silentblade on Jan 11, 2006 23:36:44 GMT -5
Kesson bites his lip as he watches the exchange between Jack and the gnome.
He glances back at the gnomes table to see if there is any indication of how many ales the little one must have consumed. How ever many it was it was way too much for the wizard to handle.
Once the gnome is out of earshot the elf looks Jack in the eyes, "Are you sure he is someone you want to spend any more time with." he pauses, "Well in the very least it will be interesting. " he glances back to the gnome as he walks away, a look in intrigue on his face.
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