Jack Reed
Established
Roleplay posts: 17
Physical Description: Jack is an old man, hard and grizzled from a life at sea. Once blue eyes are now watery and grey, and his hair and beard long ago turned white. His hands are rough and calloused and scarred from a lifetime of hard work on ships and boats.
Clothes and Equipment: Usually seen in sturdy, practical clothing that's slightly dated and out of fashion. He always has a long knife on him, and often wears a cutlass as well. He always wears an amulet that he swear is a lucky charm, but people with a sensitivity to magic might notice that it is enchanted with wards and charms related to the weather.
Registered: May 22, 2017 8:01:42 GMT -8
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Post by Jack Reed on Aug 20, 2017 9:00:51 GMT -8
Jack quickly picked up a piece of prime real estate right on the docks and turned it into a drinking establishment for the sailors that came to Lhesa aboard his ships. An easy way to keep an eye on his people and make sure they weren't getting into trouble elsewhere, it quickly gained a reputation as the place to go for newcomers looking to learn the ropes. Now, it's a gathering place for sailors, adventurers, treasure-hunters, and if the rumors can be trusted, pirates and smugglers as well. The watch keeps an eye on the place, but only interferes if things get out of hand. It's a purposefully rowdy place, and most of the fighting is semi-sanctioned brawls in a pit set aside for exactly that. If a brawl extends to uninvolved patrons, or threatens to get the watch involved, the bouncers will happily toss troublemakers out the windows and into the harbor. If the place has a proper name other than the owner's name, no one seems to use it.
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Bagugu Crowe
Established
Roleplay posts: 12
Registered: Aug 22, 2017 11:24:10 GMT -8
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Post by Bagugu Crowe on Aug 22, 2017 12:02:21 GMT -8
Bagugu walked into the front door of Captain Jack's, as Sir Muffinton and he always did on Thursday night. The place was always full of people, but Thursdays seemed to be a little more low-key on the whole, and allowed the two to engage in their favorite pass time; smoking cigars and drinking. Bagugu, dressed in his 'going out' top hat that Sir Muffinton had some time back suggested he acquire for their nights on the town, snaked his way through the crowd headed for the bar. Once at the bar, he took a seat, and waited for Sir Muffinton, whom he knew would be just a step or two behind him. "Two of the usual!" he said with a wave to the bartender, his voice gruff and raspy from his lifetime of cigar smoking. In only a few moments, the barkeep would bring two glasses, one filled with a dark liquor, and the other with fresh cow's milk. Bagugu reached for the special case that he kept their hand-rolled cigars in, and retrieved two; one lighter in color and one darker. He took a small reed and lit it the end of it off of a candle burning on the bar. He put both cigars in his mouth, and lit them one at a time. After the ends of both glowed with a strong smoldering cherry, he offered the lighter of the two to his friend, Sir Muffinton.
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Sir Muffinton
Established
~~ Gentleman Dapper Cat ~~
Roleplay posts: 42
Age: 4 (Equals to 26 in human years)
Physical Description: Sir Muffinton used to be a normal cat, until the day that Bagugu Crowe, a witch doctor, decided to experiment with him.
Through the experiment, Muffinton found his sentience and soon learned how to talk, walk and overall be a very dapper fellow.
Registered: Aug 22, 2017 10:57:45 GMT -8
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Post by Sir Muffinton on Aug 22, 2017 12:12:40 GMT -8
Alongside Bagugu, Muffinton would walk into the bar as well. He barely reached the knee of the tall man beside him even when he was standing on his two feet. His back straight and one of his paw leaning lightly on a wooden cane to keep him upright. His chin would be held high in the air and he would regard anyone in the establishment as they passed by, judging them silently. He had to take his steps really quickly to keep up with the tall legged human, almost waddling as he took his little steps.
Once they reached the bar he would get back on his four feet for a second, just long enough to make the leap he needed to get on the bar stool and take his place at the bar. His little head would just barely be past the edge of it, but the staff had gotten used to that sight. His whiskers would curl up a little as he smiled when the milk was brought before him. Ice cubes were floating in the white substance and made the drink ice cold, just as Muffinton liked it.
"A fine day to enjoy an evening at the bar, don't you think my friend," he said to Bagugu as he reached over to the glass and picked it up with both his little paws so he could offer a toast to his friend and took a big slug, leaving a milky white mustache around his whiskers, which he had to wipe away with one of his paws. Only after he would take the cigar over, letting the catnip fill his nose. Nothing made him more pleased than a catnip cigar. "I always enjoy our Thursday evenings the most," he said as inhaled the cigar smoke.
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Bagugu Crowe
Established
Roleplay posts: 12
Registered: Aug 22, 2017 11:24:10 GMT -8
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Post by Bagugu Crowe on Aug 22, 2017 12:49:11 GMT -8
Bagugu tapped his glass of intoxicating dark liquor against Muffinton's glass of cold milk with a clank. He handed the cigar over to his friend, and held his own in his mouth, taking several puffs off of it before taking a mannerly sip of his drink. He didn't hurry to answer his companion's comment. Thursday nights weren't about hurrying, or have to. Thursday nights at Captain Jack's were about taking it easy, and unwinding, and in the process enjoying a few drinks and a nice cigar. Sir Muffinton always arranged the delivery of the finest tobacco the pair could feasibly afford on their little luxury, and Bagugu expertly rolled them in the dried leaves of the pair's choosing - of course adding a bit of catnip to Muffinton's cigar.
The witch doctor took another long puff off of his cigar, the sweet smelling and pleasantly aromatic tobacco smoke filling his nose as he did so.
"A nice night, and a nice cigar." he said, his words pushing his mouthful of smoke out. Bagugu looked down at his feline companion slightly as he sat at the bar. "Looks like we beat the sailors in tonight. Must be too far out from payday for them to have much coin left you think?"
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Sir Muffinton
Established
~~ Gentleman Dapper Cat ~~
Roleplay posts: 42
Age: 4 (Equals to 26 in human years)
Physical Description: Sir Muffinton used to be a normal cat, until the day that Bagugu Crowe, a witch doctor, decided to experiment with him.
Through the experiment, Muffinton found his sentience and soon learned how to talk, walk and overall be a very dapper fellow.
Registered: Aug 22, 2017 10:57:45 GMT -8
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Post by Sir Muffinton on Aug 22, 2017 13:05:01 GMT -8
Muffinton would join him in the puffs, needing both his paws to keep it close to his mouth, almost making him look like he was sucking a baby's bottle. Most in the establishment would know not to mess or laugh at the cat though, as Bagugu was always there to do the beatings for him. The witch doctor was a lot taller than he might seem to be.
After those puffs, he would let his cigar burn out and place it next to his glass of ice cold milk and took a look around with narrow eyes. His pupils would dilate as he was focussing on the people around him. He was right, no sailors to be found. "Curious... very curious." was all he had to answer to them. It might not have seemed like an important detail to Bagugu, but if there wasn't a single ship that had sailors out in the taverns, it meant that the trade was doing well and soon many pockets would be filled with shimmering coins.
"We might have some of the good stuff soon again." he said, smiling sweetly as he licked one of his paws and run it over his ear.
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Bagugu Crowe
Established
Roleplay posts: 12
Registered: Aug 22, 2017 11:24:10 GMT -8
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Post by Bagugu Crowe on Aug 22, 2017 13:38:13 GMT -8
They were odd, the pair of them. Not only odd individually, but odd as a pair. A cat with all but entirely human habits and a witch doctor that, well – was what one would expect from a witch doctor. Despite their pairing, they had been in the area as long as anyone else, and their business for healing and other magical trinkets already had a reputation for being fair. It was only those that could be counted amongst the most foolish that would want to make the pair of them enemies, as if one ever got hurt they would likely find themselves in their shop.
Bagugu nodded at Muffinton’s words. The sailors were good customers, but they also were in the habit of bringing in some of the more exotic and interesting magical trinkets they found as their ships sailed to faraway lands. The witch doctor took his cigar around of his mouth, holing it between the first and second knuckles on his right hand. He reached with the same hand for the rim of his glass. He picked it up and took a slightly bigger sip than he had before, and set it back down.
He looked at the ember on the tip of his cigar, and rolled the tobacco-filled tube between his fingers; examining it.
“Monkey teeth.” he added, to Muffinton’s thought. “The red itch is making the rounds through one of the local fancy houses, and the sailors have been needing the ground teeth for the cure. You know those sailors; if one brings it back they all have it in a few weeks.”
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Sir Muffinton
Established
~~ Gentleman Dapper Cat ~~
Roleplay posts: 42
Age: 4 (Equals to 26 in human years)
Physical Description: Sir Muffinton used to be a normal cat, until the day that Bagugu Crowe, a witch doctor, decided to experiment with him.
Through the experiment, Muffinton found his sentience and soon learned how to talk, walk and overall be a very dapper fellow.
Registered: Aug 22, 2017 10:57:45 GMT -8
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Post by Sir Muffinton on Aug 22, 2017 22:27:37 GMT -8
Muffinton would play with his glass, rocking it back and forth by tapping it with his paw, but never quite letting it tip over. He would then once again lift the glass with both hands to his mouth and chuck the liquid down, letting out a satisfied sigh as he put his glass back again. "Seconds please!" he would shout to the waiter, who immediately moved to refresh the glass with new ice cubes and milk. It was the best place for him to drink, as they used whole milk straight from the cow, instead of diluting it with water.
"One of the fancy houses? Why would the sailor boys find the need to go to anything fancy? Was their pay out that big that they thought they could get an exotic whore around their pricks?" he contemplated that for a while. Maybe they should raise the price of the teeth, even if only with a little.
"How much of those monkey teeth do you we have left, my friend? It would be a sad affair if we would run out and a sailor would need their last pocket money to buy us off our last bits for a price that they did not expect it. High demand makes high prices." a little bit of an evil smile would fester on his face while the milk mustache was still on there as well.
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Bagugu Crowe
Established
Roleplay posts: 12
Registered: Aug 22, 2017 11:24:10 GMT -8
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Post by Bagugu Crowe on Aug 23, 2017 1:56:46 GMT -8
Bagugu took his glass in his hand again, and threw back the remainder of the liquor inside as Muffinton finished his. As the feline asked for seconds on the milk, Bagugu held up two fingers and pointed to his own glass. They both received their refill. The witch doctor sipped the top bit off of his new drink before putting it back on the bar. He put his cigar in his mouth, and spoke around it as he leaned lazily on the bar with both elbows.
"Everyone has their little vice, I guess." he said, speaking just a bit out of the side of his mouth. "I bet they spend as much on fancy houses as we do on cigars and drink. And.." he reached up and took his cigar out of his mouth, a puff of smoke leaving as he did so. "Let us not forget they're good for business."
Bagugu smiled, showing his slightly discolored teeth; probably from all the smoking and dark alcohol.
"We've got enough for a few weeks at this rate, but if it doesn't wash out of the whore houses after about that time we're going to need to keep more on hand than we normally do."
The witch doctor ashed his cigar, the clump of burned tobacco falling to a small metal pan on the bar. Most people in the bar didn't bother with the trays for their smoking, but Bagugu figured someone had to clean it up if he just ashed his cigar in the floor like everyone else. Being a place he frequented with Sir Muffinton at least once a week, he thought it best to extend the small gesture of goodwill to the staff.
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Sir Muffinton
Established
~~ Gentleman Dapper Cat ~~
Roleplay posts: 42
Age: 4 (Equals to 26 in human years)
Physical Description: Sir Muffinton used to be a normal cat, until the day that Bagugu Crowe, a witch doctor, decided to experiment with him.
Through the experiment, Muffinton found his sentience and soon learned how to talk, walk and overall be a very dapper fellow.
Registered: Aug 22, 2017 10:57:45 GMT -8
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Post by Sir Muffinton on Aug 23, 2017 5:53:39 GMT -8
Muffinton would gesture at his friend to help him light his own cigar again as well. If Bagugu took the hint he would soon have the cigar in both his paws again and would puff small puffs, as he was just a small animal. He could never finish one as the cigar's Bagugu rolled were just to big for him, but he still enjoyed them to the fullest. The catnip in it helped him relax and they even made him sleep better.
"I know we got enough my friend, I wasn't talking about our actual count. It is an epidemic, a little embarassing secret the sailors don't want find out, much less the whores. Supply and demand, my friend." he said with a sly smile as he took some more tiny puffs.
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Bagugu Crowe
Established
Roleplay posts: 12
Registered: Aug 22, 2017 11:24:10 GMT -8
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Post by Bagugu Crowe on Aug 23, 2017 11:05:38 GMT -8
At Muffinton's gesture, Bagugu would ash his cigar again into the pan on the bar, and take his feline friend's cigar off of the bar. He put the catnip cigar into his mouth, and pressed the hot coal on the end of his own cigar into the tip to light it again. With a few puffs, and a little maintenance, he would have it back over to Muffinton again with a bright red smoldering tip.
"Supply and demand." Bagugu repeated as he used the thumb on the same hand that held his cigar to scratch his brow, the smoke from the cigar curling up over the brim of his hat as he did so. "Well at least one of the fancy houses is creating the demand, that's for sure. Maybe you should find time to make the rounds and offer our services to the madams of the houses. We wouldn't be losing money in the long run getting at the root of the problem. The first time one of the sailors doesn't wrap their weasel in some god forsaken hell hole, we'll be right back in the itch business."
Sir Muffinton was always looking after the finances. That was how their partnership worked, and worked best. Bagugu did the magic, and Muffinton did the books and kept the store stocked. Their friendship had given rise to a mutual partnership that yielded a business they could depend on to make a living. If nothing else, it kept them in cigars and drinks at the bar on Thursdays.
Bagugu was about to say something else when a roar went up behind him. Several patrons were shouting all at once as it appeared two men were about to engage in another pass time of the bar; beating each other senseless. The witch doctor turned in his seat at the bar, towards Muffinton, and looked on lazily. It was nothing new, and the fights rarely got out of hand, but it was something to watch.
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Sir Muffinton
Established
~~ Gentleman Dapper Cat ~~
Roleplay posts: 42
Age: 4 (Equals to 26 in human years)
Physical Description: Sir Muffinton used to be a normal cat, until the day that Bagugu Crowe, a witch doctor, decided to experiment with him.
Through the experiment, Muffinton found his sentience and soon learned how to talk, walk and overall be a very dapper fellow.
Registered: Aug 22, 2017 10:57:45 GMT -8
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Post by Sir Muffinton on Aug 23, 2017 11:47:40 GMT -8
"Of course I will. It would be a shame if any word got out from the epidemic they are facing right now. After all, confidentiality is a part of our trade." he said as he got back to his cigar. Already started to feel the effects of the catnip nipping at his brain. His lower paw would twitch slightly as if it really wanted to move to his ear, but he managed to subdue himself and keep himself straight on the barstool. Now tucking his back feet until his tiny little butt.
That was when the fight broke out and his mind was taking off his cat-like twitches for now. He always thought it was silly when humans found it necessary to use their fists instead of words. He always told himself it must be a lack of their wits when they found that the only answer was hitting another in the face. Well maybe someone would get significantly hurt this time and they could drag him back to their Healing shop and charge a good amount of money for the deed.
"Humans can be so simple minded." He decided to once again let his cigar burn out. This wasn't the time to be enjoying his catnip.
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Bagugu Crowe
Established
Roleplay posts: 12
Registered: Aug 22, 2017 11:24:10 GMT -8
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Post by Bagugu Crowe on Aug 23, 2017 17:33:07 GMT -8
Bagugu wasn't quite as put out with the fighting as Sir Muffinton was. The witch doctor was certain his companion knew intellectually what was happening between the crowd and the fighters, but was unsure that he had the human experience of being viscerally attracted to something like a bar room brawl. To be young and stupid, and think being beat to a pulp was a way to blow off steam or prove one's manhood. It was an entirely ridiculous idea if you let it at all appeal to your intellect. Bagugu wasn't an old man, but one-the-less the witch doctor was no young pup anymore; no longer the boy eager to inform everyone around him that he should be counted among the men. Everything changed with time, it seemed, and if these brawling sailors and bar flies were here in another decade, Bagugu could imagine them sitting right where he was - watching another bar fight, and thinking the same thing. 'Morons'.
The man turned back to his drink, and took a big gulp, leaving only a tiny bit left in the bottom of the glass. He swallowed, and followed the gulp with the last little bit of liquor. He would wait for now before ordering another, content to give the alcohol a minute or two to do its work before making the decision on a third glass. Bagugu was a drinker, and at times saw fit to drink entirely too much - but there again - Thursdays were not about getting blasted out of their minds on booze and catnip. The pair's nights out were a much more measured, civilized affair, as odd as that may have seemed coming from a witch doctor and a cat.
“Speaking of small minded humans-“ Bagugu responded, obviously moving to change the subject away from business and punch-drunk bar patrons. “Some interesting gossip came through if you’d care of hear it.”
Of course Dapper Cat was going to hear the gossip whether he wanted to or not. Bagugu laid his cigar down in the tray on the bar.
“The Fierna family owns the largest estate on the island, and on the whole they seem to be a bit on the reclusive side; a family of bankers apparently, with plenty of money. Anyway the scuttlebutt coming out of the Fierna house from the workers that built it is that they’re a family of devils. Weird going’s on in there and whatnot. They even say the head of the family is an old crone – a thousand years old and ugly as original sin.”
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Sir Muffinton
Established
~~ Gentleman Dapper Cat ~~
Roleplay posts: 42
Age: 4 (Equals to 26 in human years)
Physical Description: Sir Muffinton used to be a normal cat, until the day that Bagugu Crowe, a witch doctor, decided to experiment with him.
Through the experiment, Muffinton found his sentience and soon learned how to talk, walk and overall be a very dapper fellow.
Registered: Aug 22, 2017 10:57:45 GMT -8
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Post by Sir Muffinton on Aug 24, 2017 6:22:48 GMT -8
Muffinton indeed didn't like the fighting at all, it seemed very useless to him. Soon he would be emptying his glass of milk and giving Bagugu a look like he should do the same. The fight had ruined his mood and he knew that soon chairs would be flying through the tavern. For a normal person that might not have been a big deal, but Muffinton very well realized that he might as well die if a chair were to hit his small body. And he was not planning on dying anytime soon.
He would wave his little paw over at the serving girl and would take a small leather pouch out of his pockets. From there he would produce coins and bills. The bills must have been folded at least ten times over to fit in the small pouch and Muffinton found himself trying to unfold it with his tiny little claws. Having no thumbs was a very hard life.
"A family of bankers you say? Well, we better be friendly to them. They could prove us very useful if our funds are ever not as spendable as they are now." he would keep listening and give a small chuckle when he mentioned devils. "Don't be such a wimp, my dear Bagugu. Devil's don't exist, they are myths told to small kittens to keep them quiet and inside the nest," he said as he handed the bill over to the serving girl, finally having been able to unfold in completely.
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Bagugu Crowe
Established
Roleplay posts: 12
Registered: Aug 22, 2017 11:24:10 GMT -8
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Post by Bagugu Crowe on Aug 24, 2017 10:40:32 GMT -8
Some might have expected Bagugu to move to help the cat with the task that would otherwise be trivial to a being with thumbs, but he didn't. He knew well that Dapper Cat was perfectly capable of unfolding the bill, and had the type of patience that would allow him to sit and watch the cat unfold the bill slowly. Sure, Bagugu was in the habit of helping certain tasks along (like cigar lighting) but Muffinton was his friend and compatriot, not a baby or someone in need of his constant care.
When Muffinton had paid, Bagugu took his cigar out of the tray and put it in his mouth again - more or less holding it there until it would go out. He stood, the tall almost lanky figure of the man rising to his feet as he tipped his hat to the bartender.
"Thank's for the drinks Dapper Cat." he said, thanking his friend, not bothering to mention that Muffinton had just told a witch doctor that devils don't exist.
Assuming they were ready to leave to avoid any of the fighting, Bagugu waited for Dapper Cat to jump down so he could follow his friend out.
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Sir Muffinton
Established
~~ Gentleman Dapper Cat ~~
Roleplay posts: 42
Age: 4 (Equals to 26 in human years)
Physical Description: Sir Muffinton used to be a normal cat, until the day that Bagugu Crowe, a witch doctor, decided to experiment with him.
Through the experiment, Muffinton found his sentience and soon learned how to talk, walk and overall be a very dapper fellow.
Registered: Aug 22, 2017 10:57:45 GMT -8
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Post by Sir Muffinton on Aug 27, 2017 11:06:57 GMT -8
Muffinton would take his cigar, that was not lit anymore, and tugged it away inside of his suit, saving it for later. Then he would once again leap off the barstool and land on all four of his paws before standing up straight, using his cane to support his weight as he was walking towards the door. He would glance towards the fighting that was happening not far away from him and hurriedly went passed them.
"I expect to see you in the shop soon, my dear friend Bagugu. I suspect we will be busy rather soon." his r's would roll slightly off his tongue. Then the pair went separate ways. Muffinton would head towards the brothel that had been part of their talk before and make sure he would talk to them about the ongoing problem in private, very private.
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Jack Reed
Established
Roleplay posts: 17
Physical Description: Jack is an old man, hard and grizzled from a life at sea. Once blue eyes are now watery and grey, and his hair and beard long ago turned white. His hands are rough and calloused and scarred from a lifetime of hard work on ships and boats.
Clothes and Equipment: Usually seen in sturdy, practical clothing that's slightly dated and out of fashion. He always has a long knife on him, and often wears a cutlass as well. He always wears an amulet that he swear is a lucky charm, but people with a sensitivity to magic might notice that it is enchanted with wards and charms related to the weather.
Registered: May 22, 2017 8:01:42 GMT -8
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Post by Jack Reed on Aug 27, 2017 11:49:41 GMT -8
Jack looked down over the bar from his customary place on the upper balcony. It had a good view, but still left him out of the path of the occasional brawl. The bouncers and the bartenders handled most of the business of actually running the place day-to-day, leaving him mostly only to see to the broad strokes. He had to work at not thinking of them as ship’s officers some days. He was an old sailor, and like most old sailors, he had seen a lot in his life. Most of the strangeness that wandered through Jack’s was old hat to him by now. But the walking and talking housecat in a waistcoat was something different. He came in with that witch doctor fellow at least once a week, occasionally more, ordered expensive drinks, and didn’t cause trouble. By all logic, Sir Muffinton was almost the ideal customer. But something about the creature just didn’t sit right with old Captain Jack. Probably the way he was a walking and talking housecat in a waistcoat. He leaned over and whispered to one of the crew standing nearby. It was time to see what he could learn about this cat...
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Thalric Dale, Paladin
Committed
Roleplay posts: 60
Age: 37
Physical Description: -----------------------
https://i.pinimg.com/564x/03/23/85/032385d1c3ab6a89c0e2d020f99079e6.jpg
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One would think that the tall fellow, some inches over six feet in height, would be intimidating. The scars on his face, the blinded left eye, the battered full plate armor and beaten shield. He has a warrior's physique, though he does not have the hulking mass one would attribute to paragons of battle.
The gentle smile wipes any doubts away.
Thalric moves with militant readiness, those habits deep in his bones. His coal black hair and sky blue eye mark his as a commoner, though he has long since lost the lower-class accent to something middling, bridging the gap between merchant elite and nobility.
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Clothes and Equipment: Blessed Longsword // Holy sword
Enchanted Plate Armor and Steel Shield // Improved sturdiness and resilience against weapons
Enchanted Dire Wolf Cloak // Grants protection (not immunity) from the cold
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Player's online availability : Mornings, mostly. Early afternoons.
Registered: Aug 30, 2017 12:21:32 GMT -8
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Post by Thalric Dale, Paladin on Aug 31, 2017 10:37:42 GMT -8
The ship captain that had landed Thalric to Lhesa had suggested the establishment; a respectable, rough-and-tumble spot for any newcomer to ease themselves into Lhesa's frontier. He made his way inside, his pack clattering upon his shoulders, not complaining about the heat despite sweating already (the chain shirt and breastplate certainly didn't help). He gently shouldered his way passed some of the more rowdy patrons, his scarred face giving any distant onlookers the mistaken thought that he might have been a thug or a mercenary.
Those nearby, however, would feel a soothing aura aboutt he man, a spritual breath of fresh air. There was also a militant manner to his posture, and a gentle but firm tone of voice that cut clearly through the din of the place. First, he'd make his way to a corner that seemed vacant enough for him to sit and get his bearings, perhaps flag someone down for something to eat, drink and then to find out about lodging.
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Layla Rashmi
Committed
Roleplay posts: 54
Physical Description: An attractive woman, apparently in her middle thirties, with deep midnight blue eyes and thick, black hair that falls past her hips in a silken curtain. Almost reaching five feet tall, she has a strong, muscular frame and generous curves obvious even strapped down beneath plate armor. Her skin is smooth and pale like a porcelain doll, though she pinkens in the sun and freckles in the summer.
Her voice is a smoky contralto, calling to mind whispers in the night in its pitch and timbre regardless of the volume. She speaks with a rough accent, strongly implying a lowborn lineage and street education. The glint of razors strapped to her boots reinforces the image, despite her pleasant smile.
Braided into her hair so that it hangs below and just behind her left ear, and held in place with a column of deep blue beads, is a long feather, coal black on the back and banded black-and-white on the underside.
She walks with a choreographed grace, as though every step were a dance to music only she can hear, the jingling and clanking of her armor, spurs, and/or jewelry often playing audible percussion accompaniment.
Up close, one might notice the scent of the deep forest on her: leaves, rain, good soil, and wild roses. Beneath and behind, though not quite concealed by it, is the lingering smell of sweat, smoke, and blood.
Clothes and Equipment:
When out and about, Layla is most often seen in plate armor with a long, white, high-collared coat over it. Slung low on her left hip is a pair of massive hand-and-a-half swords, clearly a matching set, one with a guard and pommel in steel grey, the other trimmed in gold. On her right hip hangs a heavy steel warhammer.
Registered: Jul 18, 2017 19:59:46 GMT -8
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Post by Layla Rashmi on Aug 31, 2017 10:46:19 GMT -8
A warm laugh accompanied the woman’s entrance. She waved at someone outside as she pushed open the door and stepped into the bar. Jack’s was where people new to the island often came, so most of the customers didn’t know who the tiny woman in the white coat was. Those of them that did quickly moved out of her way and opened a spot at the bar for her.
“Hey there, darlin’.” She smiled brightly to the bartender. “Somethin’ strong an’ sweet, if it ain’t too much trouble, yeah? Whatever comes easy to hand. I ain’t too picky.”
The tiny woman leaned forward over the bar, watching curiously as her drink was prepared. Once she had it in hand, Layla took a sip and nodded, then placed a rather substantial stack of coins on the bar. “You let me know if that runs out.” With another laugh, she turned to look over the bar, scanning the crowd for anyone she might know.
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Thalric Dale, Paladin
Committed
Roleplay posts: 60
Age: 37
Physical Description: -----------------------
https://i.pinimg.com/564x/03/23/85/032385d1c3ab6a89c0e2d020f99079e6.jpg
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One would think that the tall fellow, some inches over six feet in height, would be intimidating. The scars on his face, the blinded left eye, the battered full plate armor and beaten shield. He has a warrior's physique, though he does not have the hulking mass one would attribute to paragons of battle.
The gentle smile wipes any doubts away.
Thalric moves with militant readiness, those habits deep in his bones. His coal black hair and sky blue eye mark his as a commoner, though he has long since lost the lower-class accent to something middling, bridging the gap between merchant elite and nobility.
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Clothes and Equipment: Blessed Longsword // Holy sword
Enchanted Plate Armor and Steel Shield // Improved sturdiness and resilience against weapons
Enchanted Dire Wolf Cloak // Grants protection (not immunity) from the cold
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Player's online availability : Mornings, mostly. Early afternoons.
Registered: Aug 30, 2017 12:21:32 GMT -8
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Post by Thalric Dale, Paladin on Aug 31, 2017 11:01:41 GMT -8
(@layla Rashmi)
For faces she could recognize? Perhaps some of the locals, certainly. But one of the strangers carried a touch of the divine, something she could recognize given her talents and her own connection. Amidst the chaotic throng of the bar sat a small island of calm, emanating for where one of the strangers sat.
It even seemed to have an effect on those at neighbouring tables, making conversations more sedate, almost pleasant if still rambunctious. Gently, he pulled something from around his neck and held it in a cupped hand, the leather cord about his neck frayed with age.
For a moment, his eyes glanced her way, one sky blue the other pale from some injury that left him crippled, his face marred. But a pleasant smile was offered her way all the same, a freindly, warm expression that seemed at odds with his battle-worn appearance.
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Layla Rashmi
Committed
Roleplay posts: 54
Physical Description: An attractive woman, apparently in her middle thirties, with deep midnight blue eyes and thick, black hair that falls past her hips in a silken curtain. Almost reaching five feet tall, she has a strong, muscular frame and generous curves obvious even strapped down beneath plate armor. Her skin is smooth and pale like a porcelain doll, though she pinkens in the sun and freckles in the summer.
Her voice is a smoky contralto, calling to mind whispers in the night in its pitch and timbre regardless of the volume. She speaks with a rough accent, strongly implying a lowborn lineage and street education. The glint of razors strapped to her boots reinforces the image, despite her pleasant smile.
Braided into her hair so that it hangs below and just behind her left ear, and held in place with a column of deep blue beads, is a long feather, coal black on the back and banded black-and-white on the underside.
She walks with a choreographed grace, as though every step were a dance to music only she can hear, the jingling and clanking of her armor, spurs, and/or jewelry often playing audible percussion accompaniment.
Up close, one might notice the scent of the deep forest on her: leaves, rain, good soil, and wild roses. Beneath and behind, though not quite concealed by it, is the lingering smell of sweat, smoke, and blood.
Clothes and Equipment:
When out and about, Layla is most often seen in plate armor with a long, white, high-collared coat over it. Slung low on her left hip is a pair of massive hand-and-a-half swords, clearly a matching set, one with a guard and pommel in steel grey, the other trimmed in gold. On her right hip hangs a heavy steel warhammer.
Registered: Jul 18, 2017 19:59:46 GMT -8
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Post by Layla Rashmi on Aug 31, 2017 11:16:41 GMT -8
Midnight eyes stopped on Thalric Dale, Paladin and the aura of calm surrounding him. That was curious. Jack’s was a boisterous place, as a rule, so this island of quiet was a noticeable departure from the norm. It might not be anything worrisome, of course. But it was certainly worth looking into. Layla picked up her glass and took a sip, then skipped over to Thalric’s table. When she got close, he could probably hear the clank and jangle of armor and spurs over the subdued voices of nearby patrons. Without waiting for an invitation, the tiny woman pulled out a chair and sat at the paladin’s table. “Mornin’.” It wasn’t morning at all, of course. Bars were usually empty, or close to it in the mornings. “Anyone ever tell you that you stand out in a crowd?”
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