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Post by The Scarlet Dragon Inn on Feb 4, 2020 15:24:24 GMT -8
Located on the eastern outskirts of Isra's innermost ring, the Scarlet Dragon Inn is a large two story Victorian-style building with a coursed rubble foundation leading up to an oaken-paneled main structure. The first floor has four windows facing out into the street, two to either side of the main door, while the second is possessed of five windows, the central pane being somewhat broader then the rest. The red-shingled roof is cross gabled and a pair of dormer windows peer out from either side of the center from its attic.
Oak wood steps lead up to a broad porch before the building, where two long benches are situated to either side of a set of mahogany double doors acting as the main entrance. An overhang supported by two romanesque pillars at its corners protects the porch from the elements, and a simple hip-height wooden railing prevents drunken customers from toppling over the edge of the meter-high decking. A large sign hangs over the edge of the overhang, a stylized bas relief red dragon wrapped about the words "The Scarlet Dragon" painted upon its center.
Stepping inside the building, it's clear that, while the tavern attempts to evoke a sort of rustic charm with rough hardwood floors and a the scent of pine, it is no rural public house. The bar itself, to the left of the entrance, is long and broad, its lacquered cherry wood surface regularly polished to a spot-free shine. The liquor cabinet is well-stocked with all sorts of spirits and ales, and the barstools are cushioned with genuine red drakeskin, no doubt the most expensive furniture in the building.
To the right, a large hearth burns bright during the day in winter, and all night regardless of the season. The stuffed head of a red wyvern is mounted above the hearth, its angry yellow marble eyes glaring down at patrons. Four cushioned chairs are arrayed around the hearth, with end tables between each one to act as a flat surface upon which to rest cigars or drinks.
In the wide space between the bar and the hearth, several round cherry wood tables are interspersed at regular intervals, with six comfortable cushioned dining chairs arrayed about each one. A wrought iron chandelier made up of two rings of eight fat candles hangs high over this dining area, providing bright illumination to the entire first floor.
Underneath the straight stairwell along the back wall of the building, a pair of swinging doors lead into a modest kitchen where hot meals are prepared for patrons. Well-trained cocktail waitresses in provocative red corsets and short skirts over white ruffled shirts with low collars move between the kitchen and the dining area, bringing food and drink to patrons, as well as a touch of good-natured flirting.
Between the dining area and the bar, a wide berth has been given for patrons to walk through to a set of wooden steps that lead up to the second level, where there are ten rooms available for overnight stay, paid for by the day. While they are all quite comfortable, they do vary in offered amenities and pricing, with the central street-facing room priced the highest. It is the largest and contains a huge, magically-heated bath and a king-sized bed, as well as all the creature comforts that a patron might desire on an overnight stay. The rest of the rooms contain queen-size beds, with standard bathing facilities and well-built drawers, as well as a mirrored armoire for morning preparations. The five rooms overlooking the street have windows, whilst the other five are windowless but much cheaper.
The attic is used as a temporary housing for those patrons too drunk to wander the streets and too poor to pay for proper accommodations. It is essentially a bunkhouse, with ten cots on either side of a hallway accessed via spiral staircase. The cots are thinly padded and not very comfortable, and the room is dimly lit. A small footlocker rests at the foot of each cot, allowing the poor drunkards to store what little valuables they possess during the night. Two dormer windows offer natural light into the attic during the daytime.
A hatch behind the bar leads down to the cellar, where food and drink are stored in the chilly underground environs. There is a secondary double-doored hatch at the back of the cellar that leads up into the alleyway behind the building.
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Cairn Ó Fathaigh
Established
Roleplay posts: 16 
Age: 47
Physical Description: ==========
At a towering nearly ten feet, Cairn stands a few heads above average folk. With a powerful frame and bulging musculature, his stature alone presents an intimidating figure. His body, while nearly always covered by the black steel of the Dread Knights, is covered with the evidence of decades of battle. Time has not been kind to his face, either, as deep wounds scar his right cheek and forehead, blinding his right eye, speaking to a battle hard won. The grim fire behind his remaining expressive red-orange eye, however, belies a greater strength of will than one might expect of such a brutish figure, and he carries himself with an air of authority and power. A combed dusting of black hair rests upon his head, the sides cropped and cut close to the flesh, and a thick beard wraps about his chin, accentuating his powerful jawline.
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Clothes and Equipment: The armour that Cairn dons is different than the uniform black steel of the Dread Knights he commands, instead a custom-built suit of plate armour, its steel jagged and flanged so as to better turn blunted weaponry. His greathelm is built to strike terror into the hearts of his enemies; a grimacing ghoulish mask covers his face, while a pair of twisted bull-like horns reach outwards toward his enemies, threatening to gore any that come within reach. His massive flanged warmaul "Adjudicator" crackles with primal electrical energy as it's swung through the air, the huge head of the weapon as large as the average man's torso. It's wielded with a deftness and speed impossible of a man of lesser stature, a single strike often strong enough to send Cairn's enemies soaring through the air with an assortment of crushed bones.
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Allegiances: The Black Vale
Registered: Oct 26, 2018 19:09:52 GMT -8
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Post by Cairn Ó Fathaigh on Feb 4, 2020 19:19:23 GMT -8
Cairn walks into the Scarlet Dragon with Deyla Sah in tow, ducking low to avoid hitting his head on the frame. All eyes are drawn to the pair as soon as they enter. Of course most look at Cairn himself with wary sidelong glances, but most curious to the majority of the patrons is the size difference between the man and his compatriot. Of course, despite their entirely platonic relationship, there are those that assume more and can't help but wonder exactly how that pairing works exactly. Still, it is only a momentary fascination, and as Cairn makes it clear he's not going to immediately cause trouble, most of the patrons go back to their drinks and chatter. Cairn leads Deyla to the bar and helps her up into her seat, before sitting down himself, the barstool creaking dangerously at his weight. He looks aside at Deyla. "Order whatever you wish, fish-woman. My purse is heavy and I have few enough opportunities to spend coin," he rumbles. Cairn raises a thick hand in a beckoning gesture to get the attention of the bartender, who meanders over with a leisurely stride. The bar isn't very full yet, and so he can afford not to rush. The bartender is a large man himself, standing at around six feet and clearly carrying more than 16 stone of pure muscle, and yet he's still dwarfed by the half-giant sat before him. The bartender is not a young man, but it is clear he's taken excellent care of his physique. As well, a trio of grizzly scars trailing from his jaw to his forehead speak to a life spent doing much more than tending bars. "Evenin', lad, lass," greets the bartender to the pair, after a moment of staring at the anomalously large man before him. He isn't fearful, but he's certainly curious. Still, he's polite enough not to mention Cairn's size. "What kin I do fer ye?" "I would like your largest tankard of Dwarven Ale. Put whatever Deyla--" he indicates Deyla with a nod of his head, "--wants on my tab as well." "As ye say, sire. And what will Miss Deyla be havin' t'day?" replies the bartender, turning over to Deyla. The diminutive woman looks even smaller next to Cairn, and the pairing causes a bemused grin to spread across the bartender's marred features. |
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Deyla Sah
Established
Roleplay posts: 37
Age: 21
Physical Description: She stands a petite 5'0" with her chin back... Waves of chestnut hair flow about a lovely face. Unusual green eyes assess you from where she stands. A creamy complexion is her coloring, with hints of peach in her cheeks and a light smattering of freckles to indicate she didn't shy away from the sun like some young ladies. She has curves, though obviously not of a woman yet fully mature, with average bust and gently flared hips, shapely legs and toned arms.
Clothes and Equipment: Her clothing is of rich, rare silk from the once glorious Katashima. They are most assuredly medieval in cut and style, colors to match her coloring. Her weapons include a jeweled dagger and a staff of the sea. Other equipment includes misc items such as a bag of holding.
Registered: Oct 21, 2016 10:00:00 GMT -8
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Post by Deyla Sah on Feb 4, 2020 19:47:40 GMT -8
Deyla felt somewhat uncomfortable when noticing the eyes upon them, well, him mostly. She was blissfully ignorant of the fact that there was speculation as to how the two might possibly pair together under certain circumstances, not that she was unaware of the man beside her being well put together even as he was massive in comparison to her.
She followed him to the bar and sat upon the stool with his help, feeling her petite stature was a disadvantage for the taller seats. The young miss would have opened her mouth to argue about ordering on his coin because she had just sold some treasures she had found at the bottom of the sea and had a fat purse as well, but why not let the man pay for her? It was a rare treat. She nodded.
As the bartender meandered over, she couldn’t help but notice that even he wasn’t as massive as her companion. She spent little time gazing at the man because she wasn’t particularly impressed or interested in him in that manner, but she did sit up a little straighter when he addressed her.
“I will have… mead?” She knew what the stuff was, she had just never had it, nor imbibed in alcohol in general. She tended to drink water more than anything. Boy was she in for it. Deyla blinked a few times at the grin, wondering what the older man was grinning about in such a manner.
She looked to her new friend then with a completely overwhelmed expression. “I have never been in a place like this before,” she said candidly. “I have only heard of what places like these are like, and I must say that it is calm in comparison to what I have been told. Is it true that people like to brawl in taverns?”
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Cairn Ó Fathaigh
Established
Roleplay posts: 16
Age: 47
Physical Description: ==========
At a towering nearly ten feet, Cairn stands a few heads above average folk. With a powerful frame and bulging musculature, his stature alone presents an intimidating figure. His body, while nearly always covered by the black steel of the Dread Knights, is covered with the evidence of decades of battle. Time has not been kind to his face, either, as deep wounds scar his right cheek and forehead, blinding his right eye, speaking to a battle hard won. The grim fire behind his remaining expressive red-orange eye, however, belies a greater strength of will than one might expect of such a brutish figure, and he carries himself with an air of authority and power. A combed dusting of black hair rests upon his head, the sides cropped and cut close to the flesh, and a thick beard wraps about his chin, accentuating his powerful jawline.
==========
Clothes and Equipment: The armour that Cairn dons is different than the uniform black steel of the Dread Knights he commands, instead a custom-built suit of plate armour, its steel jagged and flanged so as to better turn blunted weaponry. His greathelm is built to strike terror into the hearts of his enemies; a grimacing ghoulish mask covers his face, while a pair of twisted bull-like horns reach outwards toward his enemies, threatening to gore any that come within reach. His massive flanged warmaul "Adjudicator" crackles with primal electrical energy as it's swung through the air, the huge head of the weapon as large as the average man's torso. It's wielded with a deftness and speed impossible of a man of lesser stature, a single strike often strong enough to send Cairn's enemies soaring through the air with an assortment of crushed bones.
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Allegiances: The Black Vale
Registered: Oct 26, 2018 19:09:52 GMT -8
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Post by Cairn Ó Fathaigh on Feb 6, 2020 20:25:53 GMT -8
"That's a rare occurence," replies Cairn with a shake of his head. "Most people just want to sit and drink and talk. If two men are drunk and stupid and want to beat each other more stupid, they are usually polite enough to take such quarrels outside. Not that it never happens, mind, but such dramatic events get people talking, whereas an occasional alley fight on the street doesn't."
Cairn turns to look down at her while they wait for the drinks to arrive and studies her with piercing eyes of red-orange. He stays silent for several moments as he appraises her once more, still wondering exactly how this woman could be a fish, much less a fish that fights deep sea creatures. Finally, he speaks.
"Well, fish-woman, why don't you tell me about one of these great beasts you've faced in the depths? I find it curious that one as small as you is able to fight beasts of the sort you describe, but I'd very much like to hear how you've done it," he states, leaning one elbow upon the bar as he looms over her inadvertently.
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Deyla Sah
Established
Roleplay posts: 37
Age: 21
Physical Description: She stands a petite 5'0" with her chin back... Waves of chestnut hair flow about a lovely face. Unusual green eyes assess you from where she stands. A creamy complexion is her coloring, with hints of peach in her cheeks and a light smattering of freckles to indicate she didn't shy away from the sun like some young ladies. She has curves, though obviously not of a woman yet fully mature, with average bust and gently flared hips, shapely legs and toned arms.
Clothes and Equipment: Her clothing is of rich, rare silk from the once glorious Katashima. They are most assuredly medieval in cut and style, colors to match her coloring. Her weapons include a jeweled dagger and a staff of the sea. Other equipment includes misc items such as a bag of holding.
Registered: Oct 21, 2016 10:00:00 GMT -8
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Post by Deyla Sah on Feb 7, 2020 12:33:35 GMT -8
“It is good then that it is a rare occurrence,” she replied. “I think I would be trampled in such an occasion.” She said this with humor in her eyes. Deyla smiled and continued, “I am glad that we came at a time when it wasn’t so busy even still. Too many people around.” The girl adjusted her butt on the stool as it was soon becoming apparent how uncomfortable sitting on a stool was. She did not complain, however.
When he appraised her again, she soon glanced his way an arched a brow. It had been several years since her last encounter with menfolk who looked at her in such a way as to study her, and about that same amount of time since her one and only encounter of a deeper sort. Honestly, she thought, if he wasn’t four times her size, she’d probably be flirting with him. But she was left wondering how in the world that would work out. “I never really fight the beasts… I am, after all, just a small mermaid in comparison to great whales… But I did kill a large squid once. The beast was trying to wrap its tentacles around me. That was a disgusting sensation to say the least… I ate well that night.” And then she gave a laugh, a pleasant and warm kind of laugh that sounded genuine. When she laughed, she scrunched her nose a little and her eyes danced.
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Cairn Ó Fathaigh
Established
Roleplay posts: 16
Age: 47
Physical Description: ==========
At a towering nearly ten feet, Cairn stands a few heads above average folk. With a powerful frame and bulging musculature, his stature alone presents an intimidating figure. His body, while nearly always covered by the black steel of the Dread Knights, is covered with the evidence of decades of battle. Time has not been kind to his face, either, as deep wounds scar his right cheek and forehead, blinding his right eye, speaking to a battle hard won. The grim fire behind his remaining expressive red-orange eye, however, belies a greater strength of will than one might expect of such a brutish figure, and he carries himself with an air of authority and power. A combed dusting of black hair rests upon his head, the sides cropped and cut close to the flesh, and a thick beard wraps about his chin, accentuating his powerful jawline.
==========
Clothes and Equipment: The armour that Cairn dons is different than the uniform black steel of the Dread Knights he commands, instead a custom-built suit of plate armour, its steel jagged and flanged so as to better turn blunted weaponry. His greathelm is built to strike terror into the hearts of his enemies; a grimacing ghoulish mask covers his face, while a pair of twisted bull-like horns reach outwards toward his enemies, threatening to gore any that come within reach. His massive flanged warmaul "Adjudicator" crackles with primal electrical energy as it's swung through the air, the huge head of the weapon as large as the average man's torso. It's wielded with a deftness and speed impossible of a man of lesser stature, a single strike often strong enough to send Cairn's enemies soaring through the air with an assortment of crushed bones.
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Allegiances: The Black Vale
Registered: Oct 26, 2018 19:09:52 GMT -8
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Post by Cairn Ó Fathaigh on Feb 10, 2020 14:32:59 GMT -8
"Ah, I have never even lain eyes upon a squid, much less killed one. Still, from what I hear, the large ones are mighty beasts! Surely a kill to be celebrated," Cairn rumbles. As if on cue, their drinks arrive at that moment.
The cast iron tankard that is set before Cairn looks heavy enough to be used as catapult ammunition, but Cairn lifts it easily and brings it to his lips, drinking deeply of the dark brown liquid within.
For her part, Deyla has been given a squat wine glass filled halfway with a golden liquid with a cloying honey scent. It tastes of slightly bitter fermented honey with a slight aftertaste of blueberries, and goes down quite smoothly.
"Would you like to hear of the time I fought and slayed the queen of the Storm Dragons, in order to claim my place among the giants who are my blood? It is a grand tale and I have not yet told it to anyone, but you seem like one who can appreciate a decent story," inquires Cairn, setting his tankard back upon the bar with a heavy thud.
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Deyla Sah
Established
Roleplay posts: 37
Age: 21
Physical Description: She stands a petite 5'0" with her chin back... Waves of chestnut hair flow about a lovely face. Unusual green eyes assess you from where she stands. A creamy complexion is her coloring, with hints of peach in her cheeks and a light smattering of freckles to indicate she didn't shy away from the sun like some young ladies. She has curves, though obviously not of a woman yet fully mature, with average bust and gently flared hips, shapely legs and toned arms.
Clothes and Equipment: Her clothing is of rich, rare silk from the once glorious Katashima. They are most assuredly medieval in cut and style, colors to match her coloring. Her weapons include a jeweled dagger and a staff of the sea. Other equipment includes misc items such as a bag of holding.
Registered: Oct 21, 2016 10:00:00 GMT -8
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Post by Deyla Sah on Feb 10, 2020 16:13:51 GMT -8
“I had more squid than I could eat on my own,” she admitted. “I shared the rest with the other fish.” She laughed again and went on to say, “He was bigger than I am if that says anything. At least he wasn’t a jellyfish though; those are not fun to swim into.” She shuddered at the remembrance of the last time that happened to her, and was glad she had never encountered a school of them.
Her eyes widened at the size of the tankard that was brought to him in comparison to the goblet for her. She took a sip of the mead and gave a sigh of approval. Oh, she could get used to that. She sighed in content at the flavor and smoothness of the mead.
“Yes, tell me of this story of yours. I would be interested to learn how you defeated this queen you speak of.” Indeed, she could appreciate a good story given how much of a loner she was and sometimes in need of company. She turned on her stool so she could face him, tilting her head back to peer at his face with her attention. Her oddly colored green eyes, like the eyes of a cat almost, were alight with interest.
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