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Game: Solset's Journey: The Lower Ward Hostel

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Toujin's picture
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Game: Solset's Journey: The Lower Ward Hostel

"Let the lad be, ya obviously cannot solve his problems..."

Upon hearing those words, Solset silently thanked Meridian Skyweaver, the lupinal head chef of the Lower Ward Hostel. It seemed that everywhere he went, some bubber had to come up and try to make him smile, even though he had nothing to smile about.

As the son of an erinyes and a fallen astral deva nursed his elemental wine, he listened to the sound of near-horizontal rainstorm outside. Storms like these always sent cagers and primes alike running for the nearest shelter, whether it be their homes or nearby businesses. The Lower Ward Hostel was one such place. With it's simple but comfortable furnishings, and warm atmosphere, it was a favorite place to stay for travellers from all over. Solset currently sat in one of the large plush chairs surrounding the large fireplace. Behind were the many tables that made up the dining room, and the front desk. For the most part, the Lower ward Hostel looked like a typical tavern. Only the variety of races and the two extra doors on the first floor, marked with the symbols for 'male' and 'female', distinguished it from the others.

Normally, Solset hid his features beneath a pale cloak. But here, he was comfortable enough to take it off, revealing what many would mistake for an astral deva at first glance. Only the blood-red streaks and highlights on his wings and hair, and his melancholy expression proved otherwise. Perched on the back of the chair was his familiar, a celestial falcon named Ember. Out of all those he'd considered friends and allies, the bird was the only one who hadn't died or betrayed him.

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Game: Solset's Journey: The Lower Ward Hostel

The tavern door bursts open, letting in a brief gust of rainy wind as the door closes behind the cloaked figure that has just come in.

Just inside the door, the figure pauses and looks around, shivers slightly and proceeds to remove the soaked grey cloak that had, up until now, been protecting him from the worst of the rain.

Beneath the cloak, the figure turns out to be a man of medium height with dull, brassy coloured skin, all of which that's exposed is covered in dark black geometric tattoos that the eye refuses to linger on. He wears little more than an open leather vest, festooned with pockets, his chest exposed, plain grey trousers and a pair of worn leather boots. His long brown hair is bound in a tight braid that extends the entire length of his back. Around his neck is a simple looking leather talisman of some description. At his wide black belt, he openly wears a long dagger on his right and three smaller knives at on his left, all of which appear to be quite ornate.

The man looks briefly at the fire as if pondering something, shrugs, and mutters under his breath. One of the tattoos on his left shoulder glows briefly with a dark light and he shakes the cloak once. After this brief ritual, the cloak is no longer dripping, but appears to be quite dry. The man folds his cloak and stores it in one of the many pockets that adorn his vest (though you would have sworn it wouldn't have fit normally).

He walks over to the bar [There is a bar, right?] and sits down, a smile and an eager look on his face and addresses the barman.

"Barkeep! A beverage, if you please. I'm feeling adventurous, surprise me with your fare. Money is not an object!"

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Just a few seconds after the door closed behind the first guest it opens again, this time seemingly by itself. Light footsteps can be heard, then a small figure, just about two feet tall, in a hooded cloak fades into vision, dripping with the dirty rain of Sigil which darkened the cloaks colour to a shade of green very close to black.
The hood is pushed back and reveals a face looking like that of an elf, with a slender nose, light cheekbones, pointed ears and a nearly golden-brown skin tone. The eyes are of the bright green of fresh grass and leaves, with small brown, golden and silver spots.
Noticing the a few surprised looks the small creature takes a bow and explains:
"I beg your pardon for the surprise of seeing a door open by itself, I grew accustomed to walking unseen while walking the streets of this city alone."
Then creature proceeds to the bar, takes a seat on a chair next to the other man, where he takes of the cloak, revealing a longbow made of snow-white wood adorned with small blue lines and a long, silver dagger. On his back are two pairs of delicate wings of translucent silver, like that of a dragonfly, folded down along his spine.
"Excuse me, dear barkeep, but if you're done serving this fine man here, may I ask you whether you have a warm drink or meal to offer for a freezing customer?"

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Game: Solset's Journey: The Lower Ward Hostel

A few moments later, the door opens a third time. This time, a human walks inside and closes the door behind him. The man lacks any protection from the rain, and is soaked to the bone. He appears to be about 5'8'' and fairly strong, but nothing else about him seems particularly noticable other then his wetness.

The man walks to the bar and sits down, a small puddle of water begins forming under him. "Barkeep. If you got a moment, get me a nice glass of ale. Nothing fancy, nothing magical, and nothing brewed by dwarven specialists in Pandemonium."

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Game: Solset's Journey: The Lower Ward Hostel

The barkeep, a young air genasi named Tina, nodded and got to his orders. For the tuladhara, a glass of glacial blue wine. The pixie got a cup of Greenfields tea, and the prime some Bytopian ale "This is the most normal thing I have here, and it's the closest you'll get to the normal Prime stuff." said the genasi in a strange and breathy voice.

Solset looked up at the newcomers from his chair by the fire, quietly observing them as he swirled the elemental wine in his glass. He could only hope that none of them considered him an abomination to be hunted and destroyed, or had other reasons to come after him...

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"Ah...my thanks! And here is your recompense."

The Tuladhara says as he takes his glass and slides some coins across the polished surface. Swirling the blue liquid around the glass slighty, in what he obviously thinks is a knowledgable way, he sniffs at it and takes a sip, sighing at the palatable but unfamiliar taste. He smiles at Tina in thanks and says, reflectively, to no-one in particular:

"I've never had a blue drink before...mmmmm, tasty blue."

As he drinks his wine, he casts his eye over the clientelle, gauging each as to whether he might be able to ply his..."trade"...with any of them. He figures not. Things are different here, people are less impressed by his petty tricks and light shows. People aren't even real people here, he thinks as his eyes linger on some of the more exotic looking patrons.

Sighing slighty as he drains his glass, he pushes the empty over the counter and turns to the diminutive figure sat beside him.

"Hello small person! Those wings are pretty, I must say and the craftsmanship of that bow is exquisite, not to mention the knife you're wearing there, very nice."

He grins widely at the pixie, who can now see that his eyes are not the eyes of a human, but rather look more like a pair of tigers eye precious stones, twin gold-brown orbs with no pupil. He gestures to Tina for another drink with a smile and turns back to the pixie.

"My names Ciphe [pronounced 'see-feh']. What's yours?"

Ciphe pauses momentarily, but before the pixie can answer, he continues.

"Can I get you a drink? What brings you here? Apart from the terrible weather obviously" Ciphe chuckles. "Could I interest you in a game of chance? Cards or dice, either one, any game you care to mention. I'm always willing to learn a new game."

With that, he stops talking and grins once again.

[O.k. Eldan: Ciphe says all of the above regardless of your response, if any (see below).
If you choose not to listen to him rabbiting on, Ciphe just carries on regardless, seemingly not noticing the indifference shown by you.
If you want to listen to him, until he finishes, you find it hard to get a word in edgeways, though if, at any point you want to shout or otherwise interrupt, just say when.

Toujin: Unless Eldan interrupts Ciphe before he finishes, Ciphe tries to pick his pocket, using the banter as a cover (if Eldan is listening, the insistent tone and changing subject is the distraction, if Eldan is ignoring him, his forced ignorance is distraction enough). The actual attempt is made towards the end of the last paragraph (around about the bit about playing a game). Ciphe will obviously not be going for the bow or dagger, but wil try for a purse, if present, or whatever else is available, if not.

Eldan: I don't mean any offence by picking your pocket, it's just a way to introduce our characters. If you have nothing to steal aside from the bow and knife, do say.]

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His hands closed around the warm cup and taking a sip from time to time Aleor silently listens to Ciphe, quietly and earnestly observing him while he talks. Then he nods and replies:
"My name is Aleor. As you can surely see, I already have a drink, therefore I must decline your noble offer. I may indeed teach you a simple but quite amusing game of dice, the kind which is played by many of the fey and petitioners of arborea."

[JellyPooga: No offence taken. Nothing brings people together like picking each others pockets.
It might actually be quite hard to pick Aleors pockets, since he is not only a ranger, but also a pixie, so his senses are quite sharp.]

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[Shall we say that I fail? Ciphe isn't exactly the best pick-pocket in the world, being just about competant and if you're more than casually perceptive, then you'd probably notice. I assume you have a purse or wallet or similar?]

Ciphes' grin widens even further as he fumbles his attempt at petty theft, dropping Aleors purse to the floor. Without missing a beat, Cipher stands up and declares:

"Good, good! Shall we adjourn to somewhere more suitable for dicing?"

As Cipher stands, he looks around for a free table, he reaches into one of the pockets on his vest up to his elbow (though the pocket only appears to be a few inches deep). He rumages around for a bit, a distant look on his face, his tongue sticking out to one side and eventually produces a small silk draw-string pouch that bulges in a strange way. Nodding to himself, he tosses the bag in the air and catches it enthusiastically and picks up his glass [which I'll assume was re-filled]. Looking at Aleor he says:

"Shall we?"

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[Let's just say I have a purse, I haven't made a list of all my equipment, but I guess money is a must and so is a purse to carry it.]
A pensive look on his face, but without a single word Aleor picks up his purse.
Then he nods, takes his tea in the other end and follows Ciphe to a nearby table.
"Let me then explain the rules of this amusing little game to you. Do you, by chance, carry any dice, perhaps in this most wondrously large pocket?"
He sits down in a chair and continues to silently watch Ciphe without blinking.

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Ciphe throws the bulging silk bag on the table in front of him and sits down opposite Aleor. He then puts his glass down and opens the draw-strings, tipping the contents on to the table. A myriad of various types of dice; six, seven, eight and 12 sided and even a curious looking one that simultaneously appears to have both 3 and 11 sides.

"Which will we be needing for this particular game then?"

As he says this, Ciphe takes a sip of his wine and fishes another bag out of another of the pockets and places it carefully on the table.

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[Great. Now I have to invent a dice game. :?]
"This game follows, of course, the rule of threes. We will use one six-sided one eight-sided and one twelve-sided die.
Now listen well. There are two ways to score points. First, you roll one six-sided die. If you roll a three, you get one point. Then you roll the eight sided die and bet whether you will roll higher or lower. If you bet on lower and win, you get two points. If you bet on higher, you get one point. You will also get one point for rolling a three. Then you repeat this with the twelve-sided die.
Those are the basic rules. Of course there are some other combinations of number which give points. Three threes, for example, give you 9 points instead of just three.
Well, I think we should start. Shall we bet a silver piece?"

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Solset watched the exchange between Ciphe and Aleor with interest. He'd never been one to play such games, preferring to simply observe instead, and listen to the conversations of the players. He could already that both were of planetouched descent, although he wasn't exactly sure about Ciphe's heritage. But Aleor's was more obvious, he could tell that he was either of fey or eladrin descent, maybe even a mix of both. This made him somewhat nervous, as he knew that eladrin and baatezu were mortal enemies. Still, he kept an eye on the two, carefully watching them as they began their little game...

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Traril notices the two gambeling and takes a sip of his drink. Closing his eyes for a moment, he offers up a small prayer.

"If there is any justice in the planes, the dice won't be weighted, the game will not turn into a brawl, the ale won't be poisoned, and I'll be able to drink in peace."

He then takes another sip of ale.

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"A single silver? Certainly...for now."

Ciphe grins and picks out 1 six sided, 1 eight sided and 1 twelve sided dice, scoops the rest back into their silk bag and puts it to one side. He then fishes several silver coins out of his leather purse, which is already on the table, and sets them in front of him.

"O.k. I'm ready, who goes first?"

[Begin game - I doubt we need to go into a round by round account Laughing out loud The dice aren't loaded and Ciphe is an honest gambler, so as far as my side of the table is concerned, it's all down to chance. Can't speak for Aleor though...]

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"I will start, if you don't disagree."
Aleor rolls the first die with a fast movement, which lands and shows a five.
"Well, I guess I will go with lower this time."
The second die spins around on the table, then stops and shows a six.
"Well, bad luck. I'll say higher for the twelver."
This time he is right and the die shows a twelve.
"Well, one point for me. Your turn."
Aleor nods slowly and hands the dice over to Ciphe.

[I agree, we would just fill this thread with gambling instead of roleplay. So, we could describe the first round, then just make some comments on the running game. I hope the others will react somehow.
By the way, I actually rolled those numbers. And Aleor wouldn't cheat. He is not affraid to cheat in something important, but not in a peaceful dice game.]

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"Relax boy, the ale isn't poisoned. And I'm hoping the same about the dice game..." Tina keeps an eye on the dice game as he wipes clean some of the beer mugs.

Solset's familiar, Ember, also seems interested in the dice game. The little celestial falcon's feathers sparkle faintly in the firelight as she looks towards the dice game curiously.

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"Hokey pokey. Let's see what we get!"

Ciphe rolls; a 1.

"Well...I think I'll say higher."

He grins and rolls the eight sided; an 8.

"Me-thinks the dice are tying to tell me something. I'm going to say lower this time."

Ciphe pauses, the dice still gripped in his left hand, a thoughtful look on his face. He appears to come to a conclusion and looks directly at Aleor, a mischevious twinkle in his eye.

"Seeing as I appear to have practically won this round, what say we place a little extra bet? Hmm...how about...Three for Three. If I roll a 3 you give me 3 silver instead of the 1 that you'd owe for losing the round. If I simply roll lower than the 8, we call it quits, no win, no lose. If I roll higher than 8, I give you a silver. Seems fair enough to me, what do you say?"

[I too, actually rolled those two numbers. Given Ciphe's love of gambling, the 'side bet' is just an IC quirk]

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[Man, Ciphe, you're lucky I didn't play my barbarian in this game. You would be sooo dead by now.]
"Why not... Two silver more or less don't seem to make much of a difference. And considering the luck you had with the last two rolls, it seems really unlikely that you'd have more beginners luck."

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"Good good. I like a man who takes risks"

Ciphe shakes the dice for a few seconds before letting fly. The polyhedral skitters across the table and spins on one of its points for several seconds. Ciphe holds his breath in anticipation...

...the dice skips once as it hits a crack in the table top and skitters to a stand-still, an 11 showing on the upturned face. Ciphe lets his breath out gustily with a smile on his face.

"Phew, that was exciting! Ah well, the odds were against me. Here's your silver. Another round?"

Ciphe flips one of the silver coins in the pile in front of him over the table to land in front of Aleor, a big grin pasted on his face. He obviously enjoys the tension before the outcome more than the result itself.

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Aleor smiles a little, then puts the coin back into the middle of the table.
"Sure. Well, after all your luck last time, I guess I should roll a little better this time."
Then he grabs the dice and starts rolling.

[I say we don't post this round in detail and let the others react a little more]

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[agreed]

As the game goes on, both players winning some, both players losing some, Ciphe obviously enjoys himself thouroughly. After a while, he excuses himself to get another drink, offering to buy one for Aleor whilst he's up, seeing as he's ever so slightly ahead in the winnings from the game. Having got some drinks, he returns to the table and the game continues.

[Is that o.k. with you Eldan? Seems fair to me to just have the game continue for a while, neither player winning or losing particularly. If someone else wants to join, interrupt or otherwise interfere with the game, now would be a good time to do it I suppose?]

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[one interuption coming right up]

A few rounds of their game pass with nothing too exciting occuring.

After drinking his fourth glass of ale, Traril reaches into his bag and pulls out a makeshift wallet. The bag has a hole in the bottom and is clearly empty. "Damn the gods." Traril curses as he realized his money has been stolen. "Does every pickpocket in this town have to take my money?"

With a resigned sigh, Traril throws the empty bag to the ground. "It would appear that I'm a bit short on jink."

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Tina is about to say something to Traril about watching which gods he cursed, but then realizes it wouldn't make much of a difference.

Solset, meanwhile, has become so comfortable that he's nearly fallen asleep. But Traril's voice snaps him awake, and upon hearing the man mention that he has no money, the young sorceror gets up and approaches the bar. Without a word, he takes out his purse and pulls out some gold coins. "Here, this should be enough to pay for your drink" His voice is soft and emotionless, yet somewhat melancholy at the same time.

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At Trarils outburst, Ciphe starts and takes a covert look at the man who's agitated outburst just filled the room, trying to remember the faces of the days 'marks' and whether he was amongst them. Though he can't recall whether or not he picked the mans pocket, Ciphe returns to the game, fairly certain that, even if Traril was one of his victims that day, he hasn't been recognised.

[I'll let Toujin decide whether Traril was a victim of Ciphe's petty theft (being the DM and all). If he was, lsdfjkdsf: Did Traril keep anything recognisable in his purse (a piece of jewellery, magic item, etc.)?]

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[Traril's wallet has nothing in it other than some pocket change and is almost identical to a thousand others in Sigil. However, Traril has absolutly no idea who took his wallet; it may or may not have been Ciphe]

Traril walks up gratefully to the generous man. Quickly eyeing the gold, he smiles. "I accept this jink as a loan, one I intend to pay back, just as soon as I can."

Letting out a small laugh, Traril loses himself in a memory, talking quietly to himself."Aninor always told me that I'd was just begging to be pickpocket. Also said I'd end up being in debt to half the town if I kept insisting on paying back my debts."

Focusing back on Solset, Traril snaps back to the present. "But I'm a man of my word, and I will find a way to pay you back."

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(No, Traril's wallet wasn't picked by Ciphe, as we'll find out here)

Solset nods, grateful but somewhat worried looking.

Just then, yelling can be heard from the door marked with female symbol, and moments later, a tall, fit-looking woman emerges, partially dressed and holding a struggling mineral mephit by the ankle. "Look who I caught going through everyone's possesions in the showers!"

"Verlornyquarak! What'd I tell ya 'bout stealing from the guests?!" Meridian gives the mephit a stern look, then snatches the small bag from around his neck "If ya don't quit taking people's things, ya can't hang around here!"

"No pun intended..." The other woman drops the mephit to the floor, then goes back into room from which she came, while Verlornyquarak just mutters something in Terran to himself, then leaves the hostel.

Merdian walks up to the bar, and empties the small bag onto the counter. Amongst the coins and other baubles, Traaril's money can be seen.

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Walking over to the bar, Traril notices that his jink is among the stolen objects. "I belive some of this belongs to me," Traril tells Meridian. He then picks up his jink, taking care not to take anything that belongs to somebody else. "Give my thanks to the lady who found the thieving mephit."

Money in hand, Traril walks back to Solset with a smile. He counts out the appropriate jink (which turns out to be most of it) and hands it to Solset. "I told you I would pay you back, so here you are."

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At the commotion, Ciphe stops mid-roll of the dice to see what's going on. At the sight of all that money, he can't help but take a mental note of Solsets' face and where he pockets the money just given to him by Traril, as well as where Traril stashes his purse (mostly empty as it is). Having done this, he returns to the game.

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"Thank you..." Solset nods to Traril, then goes back to his seat by the fire. As he sits in front of the fire, Ember perches on the back of the chair once again, keeping an eye on Ciphe, having sensed her master's suspicion's towards him...

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