Heavy Roleplaying (IC)

[The Bandicoot]

Riverton is a pleasant decently-sized town. It's main source of income is the inn/tavern and the general store which see much business due to the town's position as a popular stopping point for traders heading to Mulbery End. The inn itself is situated on the river where it has a decent sized dock for the trade boats that come through.

Inside there is a couple hearths located on opposing walls with raised platforms around them. When the inn's dozen rooms get filled those platforms get used as a common room. In the center of the main room is an oval-shaped bar with a small dwarf-made cooking stove behind it in addition to the usual ales and liquors. The wall facing the dock holds the only entrance and the wall across from the entrance has a staircase leading up to the rooms and a bulletin board.

It's spring time, which means the river is starting to swell again with the winter melt from up north. There are a couple traders sitting at the bar who came in on a small boat. It's around noon or early afternoon.

[wkwkwkwk1]

The sound of a quarterstaff tapping lightly on the stone floor can barely be heard among the racket in the docks as an elegant Sun Elf female makes its way to the inn door. Her blond hair, flowing gently to the soft breeze, is well lit by the sun, high in the sky. She opens the door and steps inside, closing the door behind her. The light from the stove shines over her face, showing her soft features and blue eyes.

She glances around the inn, sweeping over its patrons. She eyes the tables and mentally picks one near the wall opposite to the merchants, not wanting to disturb their conversation. She walks up to the bar.

"A small glass of elven wine, if you will," she asks in a soft, silky voice, typical of sun elves. She sets a silver coin over the polished wooden counter.

"Do you have any free rooms?"

[Vreejack]

A voice shouts down with a trace of a gutteral accent,

Whatever we have, it's clean.

A huge person squeezes down the stairs, dressed all in red: pants, shirt, shoes and broad-brimmed hat. The color is vibrant and a casual observer might mistake him for one of the merchants, but his clothes are loose-fitting and unadorned. His sleeves are rolled up to expose green arms like mossy tree trunks, and he carries a broom. He glances up at the owner as if to start an argument but apparently thinks better of it. Instead he gestures to doff his hat to the elf and says,

"They may not be free but they are clean."

He squints slightly as the brim of his hat exposes his black eyes, as if even this shaded light were painful, and he smiles in satisfaction of a job well done. His teeth do not all fit in his mouth, for he is clearly an orc.

[wkwkwkwk1]

The Elf's features harden, remembering the tales of Corellion and Grummsh. She blinks, shaking her head.

Focus, Drakeen, the Elf thinks, Those are but tales. You know you have met friendly Orcs. Besides, he looks like those monks. They are usually nice.

"Good evening, my friend. Do you mean that your rooms are occupied, or simply that I have to pay for them?"

[Vreejack]

The orc looks confused for a moment before his face lights up with another smile. His finger indicates the aproned human trading news with the merchants.

"Ask the owner. I find myself less and less likely to do extra work for him and it's time to eat."

The human seems to take no notice of this, and so the orc sighs and writes some marks on a slate with a piece of chalk he keeps in his purse.

"FRNT LFT--ELF"

"Is over the street all right? It gets good morning sun and a nice view of the river. And I'll get you that wine; I tapped a barrel just last night. "

[DarkSetzer]

The door to the inn bursts open, nearly falling off its hinges as a large, gangly man flings it open. He steps through the entrance and tosses his pack down next to the door, carefully leaning what appears to be a scythe against the wall and hanging a large straw hat on its blade. With a large grin on his face he strolls over the bar, leaning over to rest on the counter. "Howdy folks, I'm hankerin' for pint of your finest, if you could." He pauses to give the room a quick glance, "Well, I'll be darned if this place don't look snug as a bug. Mayhap I'll take a room too."


He takes note of the orc, and scratches his head with an over-exaggerated gesture, "Well I'll be a monkey's uncle, you dang look like you fell out of the ugly tree and hit darn near every branch on the way down. What one of y'all doin' here?" He gives the orc a criticizing glance, before busting out in laughter, "Oh who am I' kiddin. I don't mean to bust your britches. Ain't none of my beeswax what your doin', s'long as it ain't hurtin' no one."

[whoiam]

Alauniira'a's entrance was a far less... exciting... affair than Gundahar's had been. She was rather less blessed with bulk and strength than he was, plus she was actually *trying* to be quiet(ish) as she came in. Not silent, exactly. She just thought it would have been rude to make a commotion on entering.

(Also it would have increased the chances of someone trying to return her to the convent...)

Like those before her, she was aiming for the bar - but once through the door, she immediately froze.

...Darthirii...

Well, that wasn't what she'd been hoping for. It was blocking the bar, too! Glancing around, she noticed the two hearths were still free of people. Mentally cursing that she'd have to leave her 'blindfold' on, the Drow made her way to one of the fires. She'd grab a chair that gave her a decent peripheral view of the bar, and wait for the elf to leave...

[wkwkwkwk1]

The Sun Elf is, at first, shaken by the man's entry. Then she realizes he probably means no harm. She still decides to keep her distances.

But when the Drow comes in...

Her features harden considerably. Drow. The Elves' evil kin. Best left underground. Her eyes narrow down to a slit, scrutinizing the Drow's every movement. Uncounsciously, her hand moves towards her coponent pouch...

[Vreejack]

The orc returns with a handsome wooden tray of polished dark hardwood. On it are two ornamented cups made of pieces of clear cut glass set in a silver cup-shaped frame. A simple glass carafe of good quality holds a fine, clear red wine. He places the tray down before the elf and seats himself.

"Do you know the dark woman?" he asks, nodding towards the drow.

[wkwkwkwk1]

Startled by the orc's sudden arrival, the Sun Elf jumps in her seat, her heart pounding.

Great. First, an Orc. Then, a crazy Human. And now, a Drow. At least the Orc seems pretty peaceful...

She takes her wine, keeping a hand close to her pouch.

"No, I dont know her from anywhere. Do you?"

[Vreejack]

The orc pours a bit of wine into the elf's cup.

"Try this," he says, indicating the cup.

He ponders the woman for a moment.

"She has been here for a short time. She has not caused any trouble, and I don't think she will. She also seems to be avoiding you, which seems suspicious but also means she is maybe also avoiding trouble, I think."

"But try the wine; it's on me, if you don't mind sparing me a little of your time."

[DarkSetzer]

Gundahar, wary of the orcs presence, hardly notices the drow enter. His focus was on the orc, watching his movments. Gundahar chuckled a little as he watched the large "man" sit down and pour what looked like an elf some wine. He leaned over the bar further, and gave an exaggerated wave at the orc, "Hey there big fella! You work here?!" He clutched his stomach as he let out a hearty laugh, "OH! Mighty sorry... I shouldn't be so rude. But if you aren't mindin', might could you pour me a glass of that too?"

[Vreejack]

The orc appears vexed for a moment, then shrugs and calls over one of the girls and proceeds to animatedly explain the art of properly rinsing a pitcher. But when he realizes that "the barrel with the elven writing" means nothing to a girl who cannot spell her own name, he resigns himself to the task.

Filling the other fancy cup, he hands it over to the farmer.
"Careful, now. This is not the beer that Garth brews by accident in his basement, but a fine elven vintage. Drink it slow. Savor it."
He then marches off with the empty carafe, saying "In the meantime I will soon be back with the prize. Please enjoy yourselves."

[DarkSetzer]

"Thank ye kindly," ignoring the orcs warning entirely Gundahar takes the glass in his meaty, calloused hand, and downs the wine in one large gulp, "Hooooey, that's granny slappin' good! Hey, elf, you folk always make wine this good?"

[wkwkwkwk1]

The Elf takes the cup, trying her best to ignore the Drow, and takes a sip. She licks her lips and raises the glass to the light.

"Hmmmm... A vintage, with a flavour unlike most... this is probably a wine from before I was born, I tell you. Enjoy it, for only the gods know when we will see a vintage like this again! Thank you, my friend... what is your name?" she asks the Orc.

She turns to the Human, smiling, "Yes, my friend. Our wine is known to be the best in all lands, but this particular one is... special, I must say. Again, enjoy it!"

[DarkSetzer]

"Hmmm... Mayhap I'll have to visit me some elven lands. Try me some more wine. It's almost as good as what my granpappy used to make out back in the shed." Once again the large me let out a roaring laugh, but abruptly stopped and look as though he had an epiphany, "Hey now, don't reckon you might could want to run your own vinyard?"

[Vreejack]

The orc returns with a small barrel on his shoulder and more cups in hand. Setting it down, he fingers the Elven writing stamped into the wood.

This one belonged to my order, though it was clearly made by elves. Though which ones I can't read. I was hoping to sell it, but last night I got... impatient and decided to try it. I'm glad I did, for I've never tasted anything like it. It gives one a, hm..., 'a sense of perspective'.

[DarkSetzer]

Gundahar smiles "Can't right argue with more. But I'll be darned if I ever done shared a drink with an orc. Used to be I only ever seen y'all when y'all done try to take down my farm... Well, what done used to be my farm. But, don't differ to me now. Y'all seem nice enough for one of them. So if you ain't minding, I'd fancy to sit with y'all. No fun drinking alone."

[wkwkwkwk1]

"Though I would love nothing more than enjoying a good elven drink, my finances are not in their best state. In fact, I doubt I can even rent a room, let alone buy some of that wine..."

[Vreejack]

Doesn't matter; the keg is tapped and it is my duty to drink it. But I will need help in this task! :smallwink:

My name is Illimir. That is the name my brothers gave me when I joined our order. I came down river by canoe with Brother Kells to examine the ruins of our monastery near here, but we stumbled upon some river pirates. We drove them off--they took our canoe and supplies--but Kells was killed and I was not much better off. Garth, who owns this place, put me to work in return for a place to stay while I recovered. I've improved his beer, but after paying his other workers he has nothing left for me. In truth, I don't even know the way home. It's a hidden monastery somewhere upstream, off one of the many muddy little tributaries. It was deep and overgrown with great overhanging trees, and even if you picked the right one there is no easy sign from shore. So I have been asking everyone who comes through if they know how to find the hidden monastery fortress of St. Denis somewhere up north. In truth I don't think anyone will. Strangers never visited it for any reason I can remember. This town was the first one I have ever seen, as are these merchants, and took some getting used to. But people are mostly the same all over, if you give them a chance.

[DarkSetzer]

'Hooooey! Now you wait here just a second mister...Ill-li-mir. Y'all tellin' me that you're a priestly monk type? Like one of them sit and do that what-cha-ma-callit... Mediate? All day kind of guys? YOU!? In all my born days, I ain't seen such a thing." Gundahar looks visibly confused, as if his brain was trying to think but simply wouldn't work, "Dad burn it... Hold your potato, let me get this straight. A green skin like you done gone up and joined up with priestly types? On purpose? Then you done ended up in this one horse town, stranded with no way home? Well gosh darn that just ain't right."

He took a sip of beer and shook his head, "Can't say I know where you're lookin' for though. Still tryin' to wrap my head 'round the idea of a greenskin like you bein' all nice like. Then again, only ever did see others like you once 'afore. They done tried to take my farm. Miss betsy didn't much care for that. But I showed them a thing or two 'bout us farmer folk."

[Vreejack]

There was a time when I thought of elves and men as murderous rivals with orcs in a contest that no one could ever win. A contest in which everyone suffered. I was right, as it happens, but my brothers showed me that you can do not have to play that sport. That when people work together they can build a society instead of tearing it down.

But now, what is it you say? Orcs attacked your farm?

[DarkSetzer]

"Oh yeah! T'wernt nothin' though. Happened what, maybe 10 years ago? Somethin' like that. Pesky greenskins showed up at my farm, done tried to steal Betsy and Joe. But Betsy wasn't havin' none of that, done kicked one of 'em square in the jaw. Saw the whole thing from my porch, so I done got up and grabbed my sword. Scared 'em off. Were only 2 of 'em anyways."

[Vreejack]

Hah! I think they must have chosen the wrong line of work. I would hope they found better luck hunting deer, but if you can't hunt a cow...

Sadly, I remember such hooligans from when I was young. Heroic tales were told of great cattle raids, and no one thought there was anything wrong with it. Stupid young orcs would form a war party and head out to cause trouble. Stealing cattle and worse. Sometimes they came back and were cheered. Sometimes they did not come back. And sometimes they came back with angry men or elves on their heels and we would remember that there were consequences.

[evyldead]

The door quietly opens as a moon elf slips through the door. Glances at the room sees the sun elf and drow first. Niomi moves over to the middle of the drow and sun elf. Noticing the drow is alone as the sun elf getting attention at the bar.
Niomi, going unnoticed between the two elves opens her mouth and says in a soft and calming voice"So a Sun Elf, a Drow, and a Moon Elf walk into a bar." Loud enough for the elves to hear it.
Her long silvery white hair goes over her front and back of her body as she takes a seat and her eyes blue with golden flecks in them shinning from the fire. "Id love some water as alcohol slows the body and mind."

[whoiam]

Alauniira'a's reply was rather quieter. And in undercommon, a language that none of the others present spoke. "Nin gaer zhah draa d'mina. Usstan shlubnaut ajak mithuthen wanune, jhal Usstan tlu'kyo'feir inbal..." Just because she was muttering to herself didn't mean she needed to take chances with someone else understanding the words.

"Now there is two of them. I cannot remember sinning recently, but I clearly have..."

Luckily the news wasn't all bad. The new elf seemed to have gone towards the bar for service, which meant that, for the moment, Alauniira'a still wasn't required to be sociable. Just as well, really. Even if the Elves weren't holding grudges for past slights, she doubted she could have trusted herself to speak with them civilly...

Still, she wished the elves would get a move on at the bar. She wasn't going to get to place her order until they stopped camping around the Orc who was serving people...

[wkwkwkwk1]

"Good evening, my fellow elf! May I ask you where you come from? We have been sharing stories of our past."

[evyldead]

She looks at the sun elf and says, "My past you say? I was thrown out of my home by my family. I was part of the royal Shengee family. Don't know if you have ever heard of it, they worshiped the moon and I did to a point. I wanted more, I wanted adventure, fame, glory, money, power of my own. But hey beggars can't be choosers, so I took my skills honed them down and I work with what I got."
She looks at the drow mumbling to herself, "Sweety, are you going to join the party or be in the dark forever? No pun intended. I stepped out of the moon, your out of the dark, but yet the sun elf still in the sun."

[whoiam]

Alauniira'a takes a moment to pointedly glance between the bar (where the others were) and the fire (where she was). By the time she glanced back towards the bar, the resulting grimace from having looked at the fire was plain to see on her face, despite the cloth wrapped across her eyes.

Common: "I like the dark." The tone was decidedly cool. Although, to be fair to her, not attempting physical assault made this one of the most cordial conversations between a Drow and a Surface Elf in generations.

[evyldead]

Niomi smirks, "I like the dark too, I can go about unseen and do things without anyone knowing. But you see, we are trying to be friendly and as much as I don't like other elves not of the moon variety... I am willing to be apart of something new and greater. So join the party love, your first round is on me."

[wkwkwkwk1]

Come and join us, she says, trying to sound as peaceful as possible. It ends us sounding almost like a threat. Truth be told, she doesn't wish for the Drow to join them, but she is curious about her lack of scars, and she knows her hand is close to her component pouch, should the need to defend herself arise.

[DarkSetzer]

Gundahar glances over at the drow, he scowles for a moment, "No sense in bein' ornery, git over here and join us. Seein' as that's what everyone seems to want."

[whoiam]

[roll0]

I doubt it's going to be high enough for Alauniira'a to realise the elves aren't trying to taunt her...

[whoiam]

Love?! ...What exactly does she think I am?!

Common: "Yes, Mr Gundahar, they do seem to want me to join them. I really wish I knew why - 'two elves and a drow walked into a bar' is actually a fairly common children's tale down in the Underdark, you know. It ends with a dead drow."

Despite her misgivings, Alauniira'a would begin to make her way over to the bar. She's careful to keep her distance from the two elves, admittedly, but she did at least trust the farmer. His usual... gruff... demeanor when conducting business with clients (as Alauniira'a had been during their previous meetings) was actually more positive than most of the surfacer reactions she'd been exposed to. So at his invitation, she'd settle into a position at the bar on the far side of Gundahar from Drakeen and Niomi.

Then, in a sugarry-sweet tone, she's ask the two elves: "Happy now?"

[evyldead]

Niomi looks at the drow with a weird expression, "You think were going to kill you? Niomi laughs, "I would rather be with a drow and be in the dark then be in the light with the exact opposite elf of what I am. But beggars can't be choosers. So lets all put aside our differences and have fun for the time being."

[wkwkwkwk1]

Unseen, a conflict rages inside Drakeen's head...

Come on, Drakeen, focus! You, you pride yourself so much on being smart, intelligent... and now? Why do you hate Drows? Why do you hate this particular Drow? Why? She looks harmless! You're being immature, and you know it. Or do I...? We hate Drows for a reason, don't we? No, focus! You're thinking about one Drow, not all... I shouldn't be having so much trouble with this...

"With that, I must agree," she finally says. "Let's have some fun!"

[whoiam]

"...Interesting. I wouldn't have chosen 'alone in the dark with a drow' as something I'd want to do... despite being perfectly at home in the dark... and a Drow!" There's even some brief laughter, and it sounds surprisingly... well, human. She'd clearly spent enough time living with human nuns to lose the expected evil cackle... "I suppose the Darthirii just aren't as wary as the Drow these days. But that stands to reason, I suppose. You aren't the ones who had to live with us..."

As to looking harmless, Alauniira'a does have a sword and a shortbow with her. The effect being somewhat spoiled by the fact that, now she's no longer silhouetted against the fire, the others can clearly see she still looks like a teenager. She is, after all, a good 56/57 years younger than the other two elves....

[Vreejack]

Illimir had a sense that things were beginning to get dangerous. And not the kind when a drunken farmer takes a swing at a rude traveler. There was more power here than he was comfortable handling, and a lot of distrust. But at least no one was drunk. Of course, it was only mid-day, and there would likely be no siesta today.

[DarkSetzer]

Gundahar looked visibly unnerved when the drow sat near him, though he made no comment. He looked down at his drink, and for a moment simply stared into it, then glanced over at his scythe.

Gunny, ain't like you to be this way. Just a elf after all, sure...she done got darker skin, and sure they done tell tales 'bout her kin. My **** don't stink though... 'Suppose I should make nice like, see if'n she's like the tales. Hoooo boy, this goin' to be like herdin' cats.


He forced a smile and took a sip of wine before turning his attention back to the others, "HOOOOOEY! Y'all want some fun!? Time for a hoedown!" Gundahar downed the rest of his glass and grabbed his banjo from his bag. "Y'all want some moosic? I done learned myself how to play!" He takes his seat back and begins to play a simple country tune.


Just because I can, lets see how well he actually plays:
[roll0]

[whoiam]

That's strange, I don't remember him being afraid of me before.

...Ah, probably because I was just a dark face in a crowd of nuns. Maybe I should remind him of that?

But before she could reach the end of that thought, the banjo music started.

Undercommon: "A jal nindel zhah olath, vel'bol zhah uk xundus?"

There's a couple of moments before Alauniira'a realises that came out in the wrong language. By that point, however, she's come up with something more diplomatic to say.

Common: "It seems the time you spent on your farm was a lot more interesting than the Sisters and I suspected. The hearts of mankind always contain such... interesting... things."

I think that will be taken as a sign of approval...

...So long as he doesn't assume I want to cut his heart out and study it...


14 is a 'routine' performance... but since it's a routine performance of a style and instrument Alauniira'a has never been exposed to before, she's responding with more bemusement than anything else...

[wkwkwkwk1]

Drakeen is visibly surprised when she sees the Drow is but an adolescent, but she makes no comments.

After listening to the farmer's song, Drakeen can't help but let her curiosity take over her prejudice, and asks, "I do not mean to interfere with your privacy, but... how come you are above ground at such a young age? And... contradicting what is known about the Drow people, you don't seem to show the scars typical of your people..."

[whoiam]

Common: "...So your idea of 'not interfering with my privacy' involves asking personal questions about my past and current situation? ....We do both think 'privacy' means the same thing, yes? That you do not pry into details of my life I choose not to reveal? I look forward to witnessing your versions of 'obeying personal boundaries' and 'respecting your personal space'. From a great distance. Amusing as such things might prove to be, I think I would be better off not being the target..."

She holds her expression steady for a few moments before, briefly, smiling.

"As it happens, the important parts of the story are matters of public record. It's just not something most people care enough about to learn. I'm a hostage. Humans and Drow exchange hostages as part of our peace treaty. We're usually sent before full maturity because it makes it harder to send trained agents that way. I was of sufficiently noble blood to qualify, as the daughter of a Matron Mother, and of sufficiently low favor that said Mother would not miss me.

But, you know, it's kinda boring sitting in a house full of nuns for a decade. Don't get me wrong, some of them were pretty cute... but I get the feeling they wouldn't have been interested even if I wasn't Drow. And apart from the nuns and the books, there isn't much to do in a cloistered convent. So, I figure I stayed put for a decade. Time I actually took a look around. There has to be more to humanity than small groups of nuns...."

[Vreejack]

Illimir smiled, then, and nodded to himself. While the monks of St. Denis were not exactly cloistered, they spent much of their lives in remote monasteries, far from other people.

[evyldead]

Niomi leans back in her chair and just observes the area of the bar. "Whats the plan here guys and gals?"

[wkwkwkwk1]

Drakeen lowers her eyes, supressing her anger at the Drow. Then again, she had asked a pretty personal question...

She lets the silence settle in for a while...

"A Sun Elf, a Drow and a Moon Elf walk into a bar...

No, this story doesn't end with either of them dead... it ends with them making peace."

She holds her hands out to Alauniira'a and Niomi.

"We all have many days to live, albeit ones more than others. Neither of us has shown open hostility, and I don't think any of us wants it. Let us not spend any of our days in petty, unnecessary conflict, shall we?"


At last, I got a post in! I hope this moves things along. It's pretty much grab Drakeen's hand if you want peace, and don't if you want some more RP

I should be able to post more frequently now, too :smallbiggrin:

[whoiam]

"...."

There's a period of silence as Alauniira'a stares at the offered hand. The smile's back on her face as she looks away again, but makes no attempt to take it.

In a rather more friendly tone, she addresses Illimir. "So, in other news, what's on the menu today? I only came in here to find food..."

[evyldead]

Niomi sees the Sun Elf give a hand for peace, She looks at the sun elf then at the drow, and watches as the drow doesn't take the hand on a sun elf.
Niomi shakes the elf's hand "Don't try anything funny..."
She turns towards the Drow, "Don't be afraid to make friends. Everyone needs them and anyone who doesn't want them doesn't end up that far. I'll be your friend for as long as were traveling. But peace will be on you. We can't force you to make peace if your not ready."

[whoiam]

"Peace and Friendship are very different things, you know. If they were the same, peace between human and drow would involve fewer hostages and more...." Someone who'd never really had a friend before struggled to think of an example of what friends actually did together. "Feasts? Hunting trips? Sleepovers? Something like that, anyway..."

Makes you wonder what kind of books she'd spent the last decade reading, doesn't it?

"Point is, that I don't consider you a friend an entire five minutes after meeting you does not automatically mean that I'm going to insist on fighting. Because I'm not. If I was that bloodthirsty I'd still be in the Underdark, probably training for that sneak attack on the Surface Elves that the Matron Mothers have been promising us will happen any decade now... since long before I was born..."

[Vreejack]

"I have heard tales of the horrors of the dark elves since I was very young, and there are books at home..."

The orc stopped, as if he had suddenly forgotten what he was saying.

"Well, all that was long ago. A different, um, civilization, that gave us stories to frighten children with. Still, I am not quite comfortable with the idea that some people still want to bring that back. I just pray they know their limits."

[wkwkwkwk1]

"I do not necessarily want friendship. Simply... peace. But I will not force peace, either. I just think it is a better way to spend our days."

Her hand is still held up...

[whoiam]

...and Alauniira'a still ignores it. But the smile on her face (and her previous words) suggests she's doing so more to annoy the surface elf than out of a desire to force a confrontation. As she'd said, just because she wasn't going to pick a fight didn't make them friends.

"'Traditional' Drow society has been... how shall we say, in its death throes? for some time. For all Llolth's promises of power and threats of vengeance, following her brought us nothing of real value. We lost our wars, lost our homeland, lost our sky, and all we had to show for it was feminism, bloodshed, and a variety of foul-tasting cave mushrooms and lichens.

You want to know what it took to break her hold on us? Bread. When your elders can still remember having to go decades between proper meals, the Spider Queen can rant all she wants, you're not going to war with the people who sell you your bread.

Of course, 'in its death throes' and 'dead' are not quite the same thing. Travel farther into the Underdark than the human trade caravans do, and you'll encounter the places where the supporters of the old ways and the new ways 'settle their disagreements'. I doubt Llolth's more rabid supporters are going to win our little civil war, but there are still enough of them to put up a fight, anyway.

Shouldn't matter to most of you, though. If the traditionalists do win, it's the Sun Elves that are first on the target list. And I doubt we'll do any better against them the second time."

[wkwkwkwk1]

Her hand drops slowly during the whole story.

When the Drow finishes, Drakeen says,
"So be it. I hope it does not come to that, but if it does, we will be ready. A pity, truly."

[Vreejack]

And oddly enough my beliefs are confirmed. People are much the same everywhere. My first brothers did much the same as these old-fashioned drow you speak of. Eventually they learned the consequences of that: the destruction of their tribe. Not being able to buy bread sounds less dramatic, unless you really, really need to buy bread.

Illimir waves over a girl. "Some of that fresh bread I smell coming out of the oven. And some cheese. For all of us."

[The Bandicoot]

The waitress brings over a plate with fresh sliced bread with a small plate of dipping sauce made from oil and a few herbs. She makes a quick mark on a small piece of slate in her hand and looks up "Can I get any of you something to eat?" she asks "I think the dragon cuts are just about done cooking."

[whoiam]

Illimir's response draws some laughter from the drow. "When you've spent a decade eating Cave Lichen, you really need to buy bread..."

Once the waitress arrives, Alauniira'a reaches into one of the pockets of her cloak and extracts what's left of her money. 4GP. There's a quick glance between the people she's sharing a conversation with and the price list, before she makes her decision. Handing all four coins to the waitress, she replies "The Dragon sounds good to me. What're the rest of you having?"

And while the rest of them are considering their response to that, she makes a grab for her first piece of bread.

Foooooooood.....

[wkwkwkwk1]

Scrounging up her remaining seven silver coins, she sees the Drow is paying, and smiles at her. Another way of making a peace offering...

"I'll try the sea lion, I think."