- Joined
- Nov 10, 2008
- Messages
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Toel: HP = 51, PP = 42, EP = 39, Status = Fine
Ruven Zelphar: HP = 34, PP = 36, EP = 76, Status = Fine
Ruven Zelphar: HP = 34, PP = 36, EP = 76, Status = Fine
"So yer tellin me, you left your rich parents.... Because you saw some chick in a dream?" Gordon the sailor said while holding his tankard of cheap ale in his hand, a second pint of it sitting in front of Toel. He looked to Ruven, for whom he had bought a drink as well, "an' you left... Because you found some weird fuckoff book cuzza some crazy old fuck... An' you both ended up meeting somewhere up North... And you just, fuckin... Wandered your way down here?" The man upended his drink, pouring most of it down his gullet but letting some spill down his scraggly chin, "at's some rich shit right here... Now I remember why I never leave the boat!"
The sailor had been drunk when they'd arrived, and for some reason had walked up to the two of them upon seeing them and dragged them over. He had come into some money recently, how he had not said, but he had refused to take no for an answer. It was late, the night having come long enough ago that Ruven might have been a bit nervous about the dark even in the well lit city of Tahryst, a large town near the Southern coast of Badaria that saw a lot of sea trade. Many travelers went through this place, most arriving by ship or in caravans with traders, but the two men had only just arrived and had not yet had time to really search for what they had left their homes to find. Not yet, at least.
They sat at a table in the cramped pub, the Winking Lizard, at the edge of town where they had stopped, likely either to ask for directions or to find a place to rest for the night. It was a rowdy place, and more suited for workman than nobles, and the pair stuck out oddly from the crowd who had tossed them the occasional glare for their oddness. Gordon hadn't seemed to mind, however, had almost singled them out, dragged them to his table, and started buying them drinks seemingly without limit so long as they kept drinking and trading stories. He seemed a crude man, speaking of tawdry tales of wenches bedded and misadventures had on sea and on land, but somehow he had weaseled their stories from the two travelers, by persistence if by nothing else.