Session 0: Kindred Spirit's - Sali's Story
General Summary
28th Day of Nachexen, 2507 IC Aubentag (Levyday)
Time Early evening shortly after dusk
Weather Dark Clear Night, Light North-Easterly Breeze
The Bulk in the Corner
Salundra von Drakenburg had returned her horse to the livery stable just before dusk after her awkward liaison earlier and had then made her way through the darkening streets of Ubersreik towards the docks where she planned to catch a river barge back to Altdorf. The barge was not ready to leave and was still loading cargo so she decided to grab the opportunity for a quick drink at a nearby dockside tavern to wind-down before boarding. The tavern was one of the seedier establishments in the Teubrucke District of Ubersreik called 'The Crooked Hammer' and had a poor reputation. Salundra flung open the door and paused to let her eyes adjust to the dimly lit interior before stepping inside and slamming the door behind her. The taproom was only lit by a few rush-light candles and the faint glow of the fire in the hearth. There it is, an excuse to take a drink to calm her nerves instead of just going with water, and hopefully, no one questions why a single keeper is enough to affect her decisions. She made her way over to the bar where the tavern keeper, a rather large battle-scarred individual, eyed her attire suspiciously 'What'll it be Captain." he asked. A slight challenge in his manner. "Dark Bitter, double shot," she answers the keeper. She briefly considers giving a response to the keeper's challenge, and lands on the one thing she can think to add, "You know what, make it two." A sudden disturbance in the darkness of the far corner of the room catches her attention. A voice low and gravelly mutters something in a language you either couldn't make out or didn't understand and shortly afterwards there was a loud explosive noise as though a table had been violently shoved across the floor. [OOC]Roll for Observation v Int 37 (modified by -10 due to lack of light) 1d100<27 The Tavern Keeper scuttled off to pour her drinks and Salundra stared across the bar trying to discern the source of the sudden noise, [OOC: Observation Success SL0 Barely] There was someone sitting at the table apparently alone a stocky individual, wearing a tall hat perhaps.Was he talking to her or himself? It was hard to make out anything more in the gloom. However, Sali's innate tactical awareness warned her that she was standing in a pool of light from the hearth behind the bar and surrounded by darkened tables from which all manner of weapons might be aimed at her and she would never see the missile until it hit her. The keeper arrived with her drinks and she handed over the payment. Salundra grabbed both the double shots and threw them down her throat. She turned around so her back was leaning against the bar. It seemed silly to move to another spot over a bad feeling, she went to taverns to avoid being alone in a dark corner. At least this way she won't be approached from behind. Unless... "Earlier, when you called me Captain..." she turned her head slightly to the keeper, her body still facing the tables, "What did you mean by that?" "Do you always speak like that when someone comes in in a uniform?" She had initially assumed the keeper's disgust was from her flashy attire, a not uncommon reaction from labourers. But now, however, she wondered if there was more to it. Something about rumours of the Darkguard she'd yet to here, or even about just herself. "Meant no offence M'lady." he sniffed "Just the uniform is all." "Not the usual fer, around here. You from one o'the new companies?" He picked up your empty shot glasses and placed back them under the bar. [OOC]Observation v Int 37 (modified by -20 due to lack of light+drink) 1d100<17 [OOC: Observation Rolled 20 Failed -1 SL Seems a friendly place.] "Yes, I'm from my own. They come up as quickly as they fall, you know," Salundra turned back toward the keeper, now interested in giving attention to the one she's conversing with. "Anyone with a rich uncle can start a company," she continued, recognizing those in similar positions to hers often earn an early end, "Is that any reason to hide in rags behind an unassuming club? "Or should I stick to a floral gown at a garden?" "I, for one, have yet to see a skilled soldier in purple." Before the barman could answer there was another disturbance from the dark fringes of the room where Sali had previous heard a strange noise. This time there was no mistaking the message as it was loud and clear and delivered in a deep angry growl. "Hey Barman! Will you stop makin' mooncalf eyes at the fancy lass an' git me a beer!" "And you lass! Mayhap you should look around ya!" "Sum 'ere might try 'n tak advantage of a lonely fancy dandy!" The barman looks embarrassed but reaches under the bar for a fresh tankard as instructed explaining in a hushed voice as he did so. "One o' them slayer's. Bin comin in here reglar. Reckons there's a troll hiding in the river." He rolls his eyes at Salundra as he pours the slayer another ale. Sali stood up from her seat walked over to the slayers table, seeing his comment as a challenge to her legitimacy and in the mood for some verbal sparring. Her tankards which were held in her left hand as she sat down at his table. She unlatched the buckle holding her dagger to her belt and held it before her though she clearly didn't grip it too tightly. The handle seemed to rest on her slight open palm while she pulled it out, blade pointed down towards her direction. She presented the blade to the dwarf over the table. What little light there was gleamed on the chips scattered along the edge of the blade. It was something she stressed should never be ground out, as it catches enemies blades that it parries. "Does this look dandy to you?" She asked a cocky look in her face. The dwarf glanced at the dagger placed on the table "Bah!" he grumbled to himself. but looks up and grins at the Sali sitting opposite "So then lassie you're about the most interesting person to walk into this shit hole." The barman walks over with the dwarf's fresh tankard of ale and glances with concern at the exposed blade on the table between them. "Calm down man! Don't get you'sen' in a twist," Gunnar knows the rule about no drawn blades in the Crooked Hammer, but the barman accepts the warning and doesn't try and push it. Gunnar turns back to the woman "This is my current favourite shit hole! And the beer isn't piss either, not Dawi but not piss!" he says loud enough for the retreating barman to hear. In fact, by dwarven standards (perhaps even human standards the ale in The Crooked Hammer is watered down rubbish, but Gunnar is prepared to give the barman an occasional pat on the head to keep him sweet.) "So then..... watcha 'ere fer?" SESSION ENDS
Rewards Granted
