Salty Talk- A Medieval Fantasy Tavern (People Needed)

[She-Lich]

Intro
Beyond the city lies a wood, sparse towards the edges, dense towards its center. Within these woods is a clearing with a circle of stones. It looks like someone's old camp site, but the stones have been there for centuries, and are imbued with magic. Many a teenager who has chosen it as their secret hang-out has disappeared without a trace.

This is because the stones provide a portal from the modern world to a time of strife and magic- the Middle Ages. Those who enter the circle tend to feel sluggish, their limbs heavy, until finally blackness overtakes them and they collapse. Many hear the voices of thousands all speaking over each other, in strange dialects and tongues. After this point, all who have entered the circle awaken on the step of the tavern Salty Talk, the smell of sea breeze thick, the docks to their back. A sign overhead bears a painting of a fish with a distinctly saw-like snout, and the name of the tavern.

An unnerving experience for most, if it came unexpectedly, but there is a small underground circle of those who have gone, and returned to their world to tell the tale. Salty Talk serves now as a 'secret nightclub' of the most fantastic variety.

The Tavern

The tavern is a two-story, large building, white with a pale yellow roof. It mimics the finer parts of the city, despite its placement among warehouses and sailors. The inner layout is fairly straightforward, the bar being a wooden counter set up against the wall opposite to the entrance, with a tapped keg sitting on a crate, a shelf of wine, and a door leading into a small back room. Ale and pastry is the main fare here. A set of stairs is to the direct left of the bar, leading up to the publican's bedroom and four inn rooms.

The only distinguishing feature of the room is to the right of the bar, where a large, saw-beaked fish sits mounted on a plaque on the wall, poised dangerously above a small table set for two. Similar tables and chairs are strewn about the tavern, with one to the left corner, set against the wall from which you enter, being large enough for a party of up to twelve. There's some straw scattered across the floor. The tavern is usually alive with the sounds of singing, cursing, and gambling.

How This Works:

Modern weapons and technology are left behind, to be retrieved upon returning. Clothing isn't lost- it merely appears to the people of that world that you're dressed in a medieval equivalent of your attire. In addition, you may speak to others from your world about "the future", but say any of this to an inhabitant of these times, and it will seem to them as though you were talking about the weather, or the prices at the fish market. Money in your pocket has been turned into coppers, silvers, and gold, appropriately. It's almost as though someone arranged for all of this... to get back, one merely needs to leave the tavern's doorstep and walk towards the docks. Apparently the rest of this city is inaccessible- as soon as you reach the docks, you're transported back to the circle of stones in the same manner you were delivered.

(Note: You can choose to be a modern person, or a medieval person. If you choose to be a medieval person, whether or not your character can converse with modern ones about "the future", and see their true attire, is entirely up to you. It's assumed such people are in some way resistant to illusion magic, but again, the reason for why they're the exception is your choice.)

Rules:

1. Semi-literate and up. I don't care about one-liners as long as they're relevant. I'd prefer a to-the-point one-liner over a huge post full of uninteresting fluff.

2. As others before me, I'm going to have to insist on posts written in story format, rather than using asterisks (*) or dashes (-) to bracket actions, and colorful or bold fonts to indicate speech. Just write out actions and put speech between quotation marks, please.

3. Use some form of OOC indicator. Brackets [] and parentheses () are the norm.

4. Violence and accidents are to be expected in this setting, just be careful not to break furniture, set things on fire, or gain the notice of the city guard. Also keep in mind that graphic violence is against Gaia rules, not just thread rules.

5. Public displays of affection are not uncommon. For prolonged kissing and embracing, ICly take it upstairs to an inn room, and OOCly to PMs. Keep in mind that cybering is against Gaia TOS.

6. I have no policy on cussing. The place is called Salty Talk, after all. Have at it, sailor.

7. I would like to see people be considerate of others Out Of Character. In particular, be inclusive- try to get newcomers involved, give summaries of the current happenings in the tavern, et cetera.

8. About unfinished roleplays- if a roleplay ends abruptly with no obvious IC conclusion, such as a character leaving the area, then you can state where that character went the next time you post and assume time has passed. Alternately you can discuss what happened with the person/people you were RPing with, to decide whether to skip the ending, or continue the roleplay. There's never any need to wait extensively for another person, and it's best to PM them if you're not certain.

Navigate

You've already seen the Intro, Tavern, How This Works, and the Rules.

Next post: Character sheets.

Third Post: The Staff, The Wizard, PC Staff, The Noticeboard, Current Events.

[She-Lich]

Character Sheets
These are optional, but if you plan on frequenting The Salty Tavern, and would rather not have to describe your character over and over again for every new person, this is a good idea.

No character sheets yet.

[She-Lich]

The Staff

The place is staffed by the publican, Walter, and his daughter, Agnes. Walter is a man of average height, bald, with a neat brown goatee. He's lean and muscular, wears a rust red apron, and has tattoos of mermaids, pirate ships, and a giant squid sleeving his arms. He has a brisk, but not unfriendly manner with the patrons.

His daughter, Agnes, is a tall brunette wearing the standard barmaid outfit in shades of greys and greyish blues. She makes all of the brew, and helps serve it. Agnes is good natured, but she has a strong arm and little patience for rude customers. Walter is looking for a little extra help on the side as he seems to be getting an influx of new, strange customers...

Note: Walter and Agnes are NPCs, or Non-Playable Characters. Rather than this meaning no one can play them, it means EVERYONE can play them. If your character comes in and approaches the bartender, and no one immediately responds, you're free to play the bartender or barmaid yourself.

The Wizard:

Though the tavern serves mainly sailors, and wizards in this part of the city are looked on with suspicion, there's a wizardess almost always occupying the table beneath the sawfish. She's short, slight, and deceptively young-looking, with a flat, downturned nose and cherub's lips. White blonde curls come down over her forehead and elsewhere end just past her chin, and she wears black robes decorated along the hem and cowls with shimmery rainbow runes. Never far from her, leaning against the table, is her staff. Walter seems to tolerate her- even treat her as a kind of "special customer", in a way, though he doesn't seem to like the arrangement.

PC Staff:

Coming Soon...


The Noticeboard

On the wall to the right of the bar, between it and the stairs, is a large noticeboard. Here anyone who pleases can tack up a notice. These are usually adverts. A few notices are on the board already:
Crew of three needs more hands on board.

Man with long black beard and eyepatch wanted- pay handsome for information.

Three bedroom dwelling, renting out extra bedroom.

In Character Notices:

None, yet.

Out Of Character Notices:
Advertisements for threads, etc.

None, yet.

Current Events
A summary of important goings-on in Salty Talk.

Vansin, leader of the Venom Signet, and the wizard have made an arrangement- Eirwyn allows him use of Salty Talk as a safe spot in which to discuss business and, perhaps, retreat if it should ever become necessary. In return, the wizard gets first pick of any acquired treasures, and an increase in patrons. Sure enough, there has been a recent influx of odd and varied characters in the tavern. As a result, the sailors are getting restless and wary. Several of those who are not long-time patrons and friends of the publican have stopped coming.

Dec. 20 Suddenly, the liquor in stock at Salty Talk seems to be a lot less potent.

[She-Lich]

Reserved.

[She-Lich]

The wizardess sat at her usual post, beneath the sawfish. A mug of one of the few wines Salty Talk had to offer sat before her, largely untouched. The flow of rough cheer in the tavern seemed to part and disperse around her, leaving a cold spot in the warm atmosphere.

Walter moved past her table hastily, avoiding eye contact, but a slightly knobby-knuckled hand caught the string of his apron, arresting him. He doubled back and reluctantly leaned in to hear the warlock's whispers, then nodded in acquiescence and moved to the next table over, breaking apart a necking couple. Never before had he had to do such a thing- not before the wizardess had come. It was as though it wasn't even his own tavern anymore. But with the threat of deadly magic, and the allure of gold, he tolerated it as well as possible.

[The Vansin]

Vansin would look absolutely no different in this place than he did anywhere else. He was a fan of old fashions, after all, having been around to see many of them in vogue. It was almost a treat, nearly a storybook fantasy, to walk down the streets and see it all back alive again.

And so when he turned into the bar, and his red eyes swept over the interior of the place, with stooped, musty barkeeps and very accurately unattractive wenches scuttling to and fro, a nostalgia tickled the bottom of his nose that hadn't visited him in many years.

How quaint.

Boots and metal-tipped cane clapped the floor as the man stepped across the room, walking his way to the telltale sawfish under whom sat the woman he had come to barter with. Without a word, he pulled up a chair and sat across from the woman before slapping a sleek, slightly curved wand between the two of them. It was not a charged device, with spells imprinted on it for later use, but an arcane focus, a creation that augmented and shaped magic to the benefit of the caster.

It was a mark of office, a sign of wizardry. Better than a hello, the implement was for her inspection, a declaration of equality that was entirely within her power to deny. He was not here to be a customer, but an ally.

[She-Lich]

The warlock noticed him long before he sat before her, but not as soon as he entered the room- so many came and went, there was little reason to turn every time the door opened. Pale blue eyes swept up and down his form, taking in his attire, posture, his countenance.

Her eyes left him and went to the wand. Her study of it was thorough, but brief. She raised her eyes back to the newcomer. She understood- or thought she did. This was her territory, and he was asking for admittance, as an equal.

"Very well," she said. Her hand went to her staff, drawing it lovingly near, sliding her fingers up the length of it. A meaningless move, perhaps, or maybe just to prove she had such an item of her own.

But perhaps there was something further. Tearing her eyes away from the swirling shadows and rainbow sparks within the crystal of her staff, she met the other's gaze, expression expectant. As if to say, 'Go on, then.'

[The Vansin]

"My name is Vansin Du'Ver," his voice was a jagged one, but not overly deep, "I run a small group in the area." He said, and presented to her his next item for scrutiny, a solid black ring from his middle finger. It was heavier than one would expect, and made from an unidentifiable substance. It had the letters V and S overlaid upon one another where a gem might have otherwise been, and atop them a small crown. It was an extraordinary magical item, imbued with both conjuration and enchantment magics.

"This is the symbol of the Venom Signet, my organization. I would like to enter into a business deal with you. People wearing this ring will enter your establishment and buy your products, and you will let people with this ring conduct their business with a guarantee of safety. Do you accept?"

[She-Lich]

"Well met, Vansin Du'Ver," the warlock replied. "I am Eirwyn." This was a good sign- she rarely gave her "true" name. As far as Walter and Agnes knew, she was 'Asheme'.

The lich inspected the ring next, able to sense the great magic in it. Her gaze sharpened on the man before her as her interest was piqued.

"Interesting," she said. "But before I accept, I would like to know. Just what sort of organization is the Venom Signet?"

Walter was approaching cautiously, perhaps inwardly lamenting that the wizardess seemed to be attracting more of her ilk. He didn't need the sharp glance Eirwyn gave him to send him back to the bar to retrieve more ale for his more "respectable" customers.

[The Vansin]

Vansin nodded his head politely when she spoke her name, and crossed his legs. He was getting comfortable now, you see, and his arm stretched across the back of the chair next to him, his leaned back posture, even his idle flicking of the top of his cane spoke to it. His hand spun through the air lazily as he spoke,

"We're an organization dedicated to seeing to the well-being of our members, as well as providing lucrative jobs for the common man. You see, "He said, turning his eyes from his hand to her face, "today's customer is in need of serious excitement, and we can provide such things with a profit to us. We allow people to flex their muscles, and they return the favor by allowing us to...direct them to profitable endeavors. We're brokers, Miss Eirwyn, at heart." He explained

"Of course, those who allow us a measure of sanctuary in their establishment, like yourself, will have first pick of any...treasures we might come across on our travels. Not to mention the increased patronage to your establishment."

[She-Lich]

A slow, subtle smile began to play at the corners of the lich's lips. It certainly sounded good to her. It was almost nostalgic, really, reminding her of the days she had been right-hand woman to the head of the Thieves Guild in her area.

"Sounds lovely," she said. "I accept. I only ask that your folks don't give Agnes and Walter too hard a time." This was a practical suggestion, as while Eirwyn's influence kept the staff of Salty Talk from running to the city guard, it did nothing to keep them from moving out entirely and heading for greener pastures.

(I'll be right back, I'm going to pick up dinner.)

[The Vansin]

Vansin held the ring back to the tip of his digit and smirked.

"My subordinates will comply." He said, giving the ring a significant tug down to the base of his middle finger. The magic in it was something he was referring to directly at this point. Vansin's ring was of extraordinary power, the regular member's rings were all keyed to his own, tied to him in ways that could be as beneficial as they could be painful.

"I'm glad we could come to this arrangement." He said, smiling warmly at the woman.

"Now, allow me to lead us to dispensing with the business talk. Tell me about yourself, Miss Eirwyn. What is it you practice?" he asked, his eyes flicking to the top of her impressive staff, "Why are you here?"

[She-Lich]

Eirwyn saw the gesture, and understood. Another smile ghosted across her lips- she was reasonably impressed by the idea of an organization with such exact control over its members. Her smile broadened in response to Vansin's own.

"I am a warlock," she said. "Here, that means one who practices forbidden magic. Dark magic. I also dabble in general sorcery, but dark magic is my first love. As for why I'm here..." She picked up her mug and sipped from it- or perhaps she didn't. Perhaps she only pantomimed drinking.

"At first, I came for the same reason anyone comes to a tavern. But then it became the site of a little... experiment I have going on. Out in the woods, outside of the city, I planted a circle of stones and enchanted them, giving them the power to transport whosoever stepped into the circle to this place, at this time. Whoever is transported comes directly to me in this tavern, and I get a glimpse of things to come."

[The Vansin]

Vansin's brow raised, and his lips curled into a delighted smile.

"Warlock? Dark magic? Wonderful! Wonderful!" He exclaimed, clapping his hands, only silencing himself to hear her little experiment.

"Oh, my lady, I think you and I are destined to be fast friends. Why, just the other day I keyed a door to a local pub to transport people who walked through it into my laboratory at home. By the gods, you couldn't imagine how many fresh subjects you can get by just the simplest of devices, you know? And please, don't get me started on Black Magic. Only recently I've been experimenting with violating spells, by that I mean adding slivers of infernal energy to my magic. The effects are astounding! Mortal magic can't heal the wounds!" He bragged jovially.

It had been a long time since he'd met another of his kind.

[She-Lich]

Eirwyn grinned, revealing, for the first time, slightly pointy teeth.

"Infernal energy?" she repeated, her expression becoming thoughtful. "I'd never have dreamed of that- how did you come up with the idea? And how does it work?"

Wounds that couldn't be healed by mortal magic... fantastic. Fast friends, indeed.