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The Waystation Inn, City of Lorexia, Centaurine Plutocracy

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    The Waystation Inn, City of Lorexia, Centaurine Plutocracy

    The group stepped into the 'porting chambers two by two and were whisked away through a featureless but oddly colorful landscape. The image had just enough to time to sear into their retinas before they stumbled out of the tubes and into a fairly decent looking Inn staffed by Lizardfolk. Travel time was almost instantaneous but being 'ported such a long distance left the travelers weary, though ready to move again.

    They were shepherded into another area, where the 'porters at this station popped them off one by one into another featureless plain, this one black and seeming very cold. They were only between for a few moments before they popped out again into another Inn, staffed by Centaurs this time. The students and Ramielle were very tired by this point, so much so that the Centaurs had to help guide them to rooms and to the beds. Delilah and Delor had to be carried for they'd passed out from exhaustion upon reaching the Inn.

    No one had the opportunity to give orders to the Centaurs, who were content to let their guests sleep the day away while they busied themselves with other projects.
    Ryu curtsies and puts flowers in everyone's hair.

    #2
    Re: The Waystation Inn, City of Lorexia, Centaurine Plutocracy

    The professor awoke early the next morning in the large room the Centaurs had selected for the women. She lay under the sheets, her memories of a fitful dream still clinging to her conscious mind. She had not really had any time to meditate on the events of the past few days, and she took the opportunity as it now presented itself, clearing her head of bad dreams and stressful situations. The professor had been momentarily thrown offguard by the relevation concerning the use of children, a temporary but dangerous lapse in discipline. Now she might be encountering those hands directly involved in the dark deeds, and it was more important than ever that she remain in control of her emotions and actions. She also needed to help support the students -- for many of them this venture would be their first encounter with true evil.
    "'And what would humans be without love?'
    RARE, said Death." --Terry Pratchett, Sourcery

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      #3
      Re: The Waystation Inn, City of Lorexia, Centaurine Plutocracy

      Bibble got up slowly and yawned, having slept in her clothes she spent some time putting tools and supplies back into her belt before snapping her odd looking goggles on and heading downstairs, taking a long pull from a silver flask and belching. Her hair was sticking up at odd angles and the goggles strapped over her face made her eyes seem twice their normal size but they were less likely to fall off or be broken and they had several other lenses for a variety of situations, all in all, very handy indeed. Picking a spot in the corner she waited for everyone else to wake up, wondering what the plan was, if they had one at all...
      sigpic

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        #4
        Re: The Waystation Inn, City of Lorexia, Centaurine Plutocracy

        A little while later, loud footsteps thumped down the stairs into the lobby. Toring blinked into the morning light and mumbled some unsavory words about teleporting. Far from his usual good mood, he gave a nod to Bibble and headed over towards the restaurant, following the smell of breakfast. "Ranga's Pelt, I hate mornings," he grumbled. "Why can't the day start at noon? Nooo, you have to stand up as soon as you wake up. No time to gather your thoughts. You people better have some bacon," he growls into the room.
        Warning! The post above is likely to contain opinion! Do not consume if allergic!

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          #5
          Re: The Waystation Inn, City of Lorexia, Centaurine Plutocracy

          Grave woke up in a fairly bad mood. He was not a morning person by any stretch of the definition, especially after a long teleporter trip. Sure, perhaps he was more used to this form of transportation, seeing as he had considerable talent and the will to use it. That still did not change the fact that he was tired as all Hell when he went to bed and while he felt a lot better after getting up this morning, it still sucked. After grooming himself to a somewhat presentable state and dressing himself, he headed down, following the scent of breakfast being prepared. Cynder had a considerable appetite for someone with his build and tended to get a little irritated when hungry, and right now his stomach was furiously demanding a sacrifice. Grumbling greetings to anyone he recognized as he passed by, the fire mage shambled to the restaurant, looking forward to murdering some food.
          You have the right to remain stupid, everything that you say can and will be ignored.

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            #6
            Re: The Waystation Inn, City of Lorexia, Centaurine Plutocracy

            The sound of footsteps and smell of breakfast foods snaps the professor out of her thoughts, and she quickly rises and bathes herself. Before heading downstairs, she practices the gestures required for some of her more complicated spells. While she felt much more at home in this body after the past seventy-two hours, she wanted to be at her sharpest today. Following several minutes of intense practice, she employs a few cantrips to clean her robes and brush her hair, then joins her companions in sampling this inn's breakfast offerings, feeling fresh and relaxed.
            "'And what would humans be without love?'
            RARE, said Death." --Terry Pratchett, Sourcery

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              #7
              Re: The Waystation Inn, City of Lorexia, Centaurine Plutocracy

              The journey, much like with everyone else, had taken its toll on Servante, and was grateful when he finally had a chance to lie down and finally get some sleep. However, the selkie had risen quite a few hours before everyone else and had time to think some things over. After some time Servante seemed to have decided upon something, and very quietly he climbed off his bed, shouldered his backpack and sneaked out of the inn.

              For two hours Servante had been wandering since leaving the inn, and yet he could not seem to find a way out of Lorexia. So far his pride as a man and one of nobility had denied the boy to ask a passer by the way to the exit, though the more he wandered the more he grew furious with himself. "Uh... excuse me... could you direct me to the nearest exit?" It was only after almost coming to breaking point did Servante find himself asking a random stranger for directions.

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                #8
                Re: The Waystation Inn, City of Lorexia, Centaurine Plutocracy

                Delilah yawned and shuffled her way down the stairs and announced to the room, "Delor is still sleeping," before shuffling over to Toring and blinking up at his face. "There's a spider on your nose," she said calmly before she shuffled her way over to an armchair and promptly fell asleep again.
                Ryu curtsies and puts flowers in everyone's hair.

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                  #9
                  Re: The Waystation Inn, City of Lorexia, Centaurine Plutocracy

                  As Delilah drifted off to la-la land again, Grave came back from his "inspection" of the kitchen, his expression smooth, betraying no emotion. The pair of... Creatures he had seen in there was a rather unusual sight, though it did not deter him from snatching a small snack to pass time as he waited for breakfast. He was hungry, after all, so eating became a priority outweighing mere suprise. Though he had to admit, he wanted to know why there was a blue rabbit-taur and a pink centaur in the kitchen...
                  You have the right to remain stupid, everything that you say can and will be ignored.

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                    #10
                    Re: The Waystation Inn, City of Lorexia, Centaurine Plutocracy

                    "Well, at least that would be some kind of meat," Toring grumbles after instinctively brushing over his face. As Grave returns, the lycan turned to talk to him, but instead he just stared. He didn't exactly know why, but the mage looked a lot more... delicious than before. He looked downright tasty. It made Toring's stomach grumble and his mouth water. Might be the small, beady eyes or the snout that kind of made him look like a seal... Wait, Grave didn't look like a seal, did he?
                    Toring realized he had been staring at Seal Grave for a good while longer than was appropriate and quickly turned his head. He grabbed a bunch of apples and carrots - Gods damn these horse people - and picked a seat that didn't face anybody.
                    Warning! The post above is likely to contain opinion! Do not consume if allergic!

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                      #11
                      Re: The Waystation Inn, City of Lorexia, Centaurine Plutocracy

                      The professor sits down with a few slices of buttered toast and a fresh apple. As she enjoys her breakfast, she glances around at the strange sight, attempting to discern whether transmutation or illusion magic were at use here, or if something else was the source of the various strange sights.
                      "'And what would humans be without love?'
                      RARE, said Death." --Terry Pratchett, Sourcery

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                        #12
                        Re: The Waystation Inn, City of Lorexia, Centaurine Plutocracy

                        Calcius is next to emerge from upstairs, sliding around the various trees that lay in his path as he makes his way across the room to grab some food.

                        Sitting atop his coiled tail to eat, the naga found himself bemused by the room's unusual horticulture. Reaching out to the trees with his magic, Calcius is visibly shocked - the trees didn't feel at all right. They felt like they were in agony.

                        Calcius turns his attention back to his breakfast and begins eating - though he wasn't feeling particularly hungry any more.
                        WARNING: 80% of the above is strictly for my own entertainment.

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                          #13
                          Re: The Waystation Inn, City of Lorexia, Centaurine Plutocracy

                          Lyinne awoke from her rather cozy room that resembled a spider's nest. She felt somewhat at home in the room. With a silent yawn and a slight stretch, she scurried out of the room and went downstairs to get something eat for the morning. Seeing everyone there, she kept to herself and merely gathered a few pieces of toast and meat that would satisfy her. She munched on her foodstuffs quietly at her place in the table, keeping her eyes downcast.
                          sigpic

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                            #14
                            Re: The Waystation Inn, City of Lorexia, Centaurine Plutocracy

                            The professor glances up from her meal at the spidertaur's approach. She addresses the present party members. "From what I know of this city, and what we're all observing in various ways right now, it would behoove us to acquire a guide. I strongly suspect that nature of this area will hinder navigation. Unless... anyone here is already familiar with Lorexia?" She looks around hopefully.
                            "'And what would humans be without love?'
                            RARE, said Death." --Terry Pratchett, Sourcery

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                              #15
                              Re: The Waystation Inn, City of Lorexia, Centaurine Plutocracy

                              The gathering group is suddenly interrupted by screams coming from outside the inn's front door, followed by it suddenly flying open. A large backpack flies through the opened passageway and slams against the wall opposite, followed by its owner, a rather shocked and distraught looking selkie that everyone is all too familiar with. Pressing his back against the door as if to stop intruders from breaking in the group would notice that Servante is drenched with sweat and out of breath.

                              "Wwhat the bloody hell are you all standin there lookin gormless for? Barricade the damn wwindowws, this city is batshit crazy!" There's a hint of panic in the selkies voice mixed with more than a little urgency, as if he's expecting the residents to barge their way into the inn at any moment the lynch them all. If anyone was to scan his mind right now they'd discover what Servante had seen of the city, or at least what had happened after it decided to pull an acid trip on the poor selkie.

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