Trog's Tavern CLV

[Ironsmith]

[Weird Bathroom]

"...Huh." The woman frowns and sets down the beaker. "Well all right, then."

As they proceed through the door and out into the hallway, June might notice that the door doesn't even have a lock, bar, latch, or anything else that might keep it from opening. It's very possible it never did.

The hallways go on for a while longer, and June will eventually notice that the toilet paper doesn't. If she goes any further, it'll be without a lifeline.

[Zefir]

Spoiler

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Fenric shakes his head

I'm afraid I'm a bit out of touch when it comes to such folk, these days. Zee might know.

Fenric indicates the everpresent bartender.

"To bad" he says. "But yeah I think I ask her then. It might not be most important for the scroll, but it can't hurt to prepare in time. Do you need time to prepare?" Karl will wait for the reply and then head for the bartender called Zee. He did saw her once and she brought the scry bowl.

"Hello. Fenric told me that you can maybe help me. I'm kinda on the hunt for summons, which sounds bad now that i speak it out loud, and I need to prepare. So I was looking for someone who might know more about those things he found or about summons in the Nexus in general. He told me you might know someone? Or maybe you can point me to soemone else?"

Without any informations on other summoners on that, Karl returns to Fenric.

"I guess I try to prepare myself then. Unless you got something we should talk about?"

[Earl of Purple]

A group of adventurers enter the tavern. Like most groups of adventurers, it's a mismatched bunch. First through the door is a muscular, orange-brown orc wearing jeans, chaps, a leather waistcoat and a brown bowler hat. His eyes are bright yellow, and tattoos of serpents and dragons coil across his arms and chest. A belt about their waist carries four large revolvers, and he carries a rifle with two barrels. Behind him is a wizard, a shorter race- goblin, gnome or halfling, perhaps- shrouded in dark purple robes, the hood up and face concealed behind a grotesque zinc mask; they carry a long staff of reddish acacia wood. Behind them is a slender woman wearing motorcycle leathers, her bare head sporting a large mohawk and she has a hooked chainsword hanging at her waist. Behind her is a Protectron robot, waddling along quite awkwardly on rather stubby legs, painted a faded and chipped yellow, with a reinforced metal shield covering its head and marked with hazard stripes. The final member of the party is an aetherborn, with cracked white porcelain-looking flesh leaking blue light and black smoke where the body has cracked so much it's given way, wearing a fine red sleeveless dress, a bandoleer of throwing knives slung over the top.

The adventurers are all carrying heavy-looking sacks and bags, and head towards the nearest table.

[5a Violista]

[Weird Bathroom]

Going down these hallways without a breadcrumb trail is a definite 'no'.

But that's not a problem!
There's still a roll between the bathroom and the chemistry room already. So it's not a problem if she just lets the one she's holding drag behind her as far as possible; all she has to do is count her paces relative to how far they walked to get to the chemistry room; that will let her have as long of a trail as possible. There is a reason, after all, that she grabbed a new roll instead of just following the one she already laid out.

...
If she does end up having to walk farther from the chemistry room than the roll reaches, though, she'll have no choice but to either go back or set it down.

[Ironsmith]

[Weird Bathroom]

Crisis averted!

...Probably.

The hallway still goes on for quite a while, but it'll be a bit before June really has an opportunity to see if the roll will last until her next chance to restock.

"See" being the operative term there, since the lights further ahead appear to be on the fritz, flickering on and off randomly. Whatever is causing that problem seems to be spreading; the lights closer to her are slowly becoming less steady, too. It's not long before the hallway is plunged into darkness.

Which probably wouldn't be so bad if it didn't leave June without any context for that metallic clattering sound in the hall behind her.

[Fenric]

Spoiler

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"To bad" he says. "But yeah I think I ask her then. It might not be most important for the scroll, but it can't hurt to prepare in time. Do you need time to prepare?" Karl will wait for the reply and then head for the bartender called Zee. He did saw her once and she brought the scry bowl.

"Hello. Fenric told me that you can maybe help me. I'm kinda on the hunt for summons, which sounds bad now that i speak it out loud, and I need to prepare. So I was looking for someone who might know more about those things he found or about summons in the Nexus in general. He told me you might know someone? Or maybe you can point me to soemone else?"

Without any informations on other summoners on that, Karl returns to Fenric.

"I guess I try to prepare myself then. Unless you got something we should talk about?"

Fenric shakes his head

Sorry, I was hoping for a bit more information than that. You could try your luck at the Temple - though they're obviously clerical in nature their contacts may be less .. um .. stale, than mine.

[Recaiden]

The group of adventurers gets the attention of a group of ordinary tavern-goers sitting and drinking nearby.
Well, admittedly they're also a mismatched bunch. There's a foxgirl with three black tails, eyes covered up by a visor. Next to her is a lumpy figure, a little bigger than a human maybe, all bundled up in winter clothes: sweaters, scarves, hats, gloves, mittens, you name it, every inch of them is covered in warm fabric except a pair of beady black eyes. Next to her on the other side is a humanoid bundle of solid flame, constantly exploding and sizzling as it moves and talks. And finally, sitting at the same table but a little withdrawn, there's a great cat with the face of a girl and the wings of a bat and a curious spined tail.

"Hey, friends, welcome to Trog's. What've you got all those sacks for?" Croaks the winter-clothes fellow.
"Loads of treasure, obviously." interjects the foxgirl.
The manticore, embarrassed by their friends, looks over at the menu behind the bar.

[Earl of Purple]

The orc laughs at the question. "Yep, plenty o' gold here. And there's probably more, too. An earthquake in the Bone Hills has led to fissures and sinkholes into barrows and tombs, just lying open and waiting for the brave to swoop in and claim as much as they can carry. Barkeep! I'm paying their bill too, aye?" He points at the other mismatched group's table as he speaks.
The biker sighs and rolls her eyes at his boasting, so he turns to her. "Whazzit matter t'you? You were first t' say you're gonna take your share an' settle down. Or, well, uh, not be an adventurer no more. Buy a mechanised wagon and become a merchant, you said."
"And I will, but... they don't seem the sort to go questing, and the Bone Hills are still dangerous. Bandits and restless dead and Road Pirates. Don't want you to give 'em the impression it's just lying around and all they need to do is go out and grab some." The motorcyclist is frowning at the cowboy, who looks ready to interject before the aetherborn interrupts.
"I was under the impression you wished to celebrate, with good food and fine wine. Not arguing, again. Please, just... Enjoy yourselves, and party." The aetherborn won't be partaking, as they don't have a mouth. The robot and the wizard remain silent, the former stoically standing and the latter seeming dismissive, though they've clambered onto a stool and sat down. Their staff, now they've let go, is balancing perfectly upright next to them.

[Recaiden]

"Aye! Three more guilders n' a piña collama."
The manticore looks back with interest. They've always wanted to find a buried treasure, in an idle sort of way.
"Oh, joining us in the traveling merchant trade?" The warm fellow nudges the fire elemental with their insulated glove. "Gonna have us more competition."
"Don't lump us in. Karen 'n I've respectable jobs." says the foxgirl, with a smile that indicates she's not serious.

The manticore muses "Well, I can deal with bandits I bet, and Honeysuckle, you can get rid of any restless dead, right?" "No, no, 'm no adventurer! ... But yes, absolutely could, but no, bad idea." she protests. "You sure? It could be part of our celebration..." A glance to the biker. "What dangers did you guys run into, if you don't mind me asking?"

The elemental gives the wizard an understanding look. Wondering what an aetherborn does to celebrate. Food and drink? No thank you, meat-creatures. You go ahead.

[Earl of Purple]

"Ah, we got lucky. We were in the Hills when the earthquake happened, visiting a little town called Skullhole. There's giant bones, in the Bone Hills. Skullhole is a trade post, built in the cave of a massive skull, access mostly via the eyes and nose. So we were able to find the tombs before anyone else, but word's gotta have travelled quick. We mostly faced skeletons, but there was a Bonelord and a couple of cadaver imps too. All died to bullets and blades, or... mostly died? Does it count as dying if they're already dead?" The cowboy orc turns to the biker, who rolls her eyes.
"Yes, it counts. It might not stay dead, but you did, in fact, kill the Bonelord through excessive violence and loud noises." The aetherborn gives the impression of rolling eyes, which it can't exactly do since its eyes are glowing blue.

The wizard isn't the aetherborn; the aetherborn looks more rogue-like. And they celebrate by throwing parties, as they are mild empaths who feel the emotions of those around them.

[Vahnavoi]

There's a roar from outside the tavern - that of a motorbike approaching very fast, then stopping to idle right before the tavern, before having its engine turned off.

A few seconds later, a semi-recurring patron walks in - a man with his face covered by white linen bandaged, dressed in a black leather biker jacket and camo pants. He looks around for an empty table, stops to stare at the eclectic mix of adventurers, shakes his head, sighs, then goes to order some cheap Sandels beer. He pays for his drink with a currency called "spheres" from who-knows-where - glass orbs with gem chips embedded inside them. He may or may not have pickpocketed this particular bunch from a certain swordsman who left with him last time the two were here.

On the back of his jacket, visible from the door since his back is towards the entrance, is a rather prominent image of a serpent-dragon-thing gnawing its own tail.

[Recaiden]

I don't recall cowboy being one of the standard adventuring roles...
At least everyone here is jovial enough, the aetherborn should do fine.

"Probably crawlin' with treasure hunters by now." Honeysuckle says, by way of agreement. The adventurers are right.

"A Bonelord? What are those?" the manticore asks. Although moments later, she's distracted by the new arrival. Oh, he looks so cool! The bandages, the jacket with its ouroboros design, the aloof attitude~

"Ah, don't worry, human. We'll keep them from doing anything too foolish."

[Ironsmith]

There's a roar from outside the tavern - that of a motorbike approaching very fast, then stopping to idle right before the tavern, before having its engine turned off.

A few seconds later, a semi-recurring patron walks in - a man with his face covered by white linen bandaged, dressed in a black leather biker jacket and camo pants. He looks around for an empty table, stops to stare at the eclectic mix of adventurers, shakes his head, sighs, then goes to order some cheap Sandels beer. He pays for his drink with a currency called "spheres" from who-knows-where - glass orbs with gem chips embedded inside them. He may or may not have pickpocketed this particular bunch from a certain swordsman who left with him last time the two were here.

On the back of his jacket, visible from the door since his back is towards the entrance, is a rather prominent image of a serpent-dragon-thing gnawing its own tail.

Hazel walks into the tavern, not even bothering with opening the door (she can't, anyway). After the day she's had, she could really go for a drink. Maybe a pina colada? She and Hana used to split them....it'd be a minor comfort if she could get her hands on one.

Though sadly, she can't, for all the reasons.

She steps out into the room and looks around, trying to find some place she could just hang out for the night. Maybe this place had an upstairs?

Yep. There it is.

She takes a step towards the stairs, but stops when she almost walks through a customer. "Hey! Watch whehe yous goin', y-"

And that's when she sees the symbol on his jacket, and remembers the description Bunny gave her. Was this the guy who could see ghosts?

[Earl of Purple]

Neither is 'post-apocalyptic punk motorcyclist', or 'robot'. Yet this group has all of them.

"Four-armed skeletal monster, made to protect graves from desecrators and looters. Not pleasant to fight, and nearly impossible to kill without preparation. Magic or silver, nothing else works." The orc's guns are either enchanted or he happened to be carrying silver bullets.
"I am glad we only saw the one. Another would have been... really hard to deal with." The biker has a chainsword, but doesn't seem to carry guns; unless her weapon is magic, she might not have been able to hurt it.

[Vahnavoi]

After receiving his drink, the bandaged man turns to look at the other patrons again. He notices the winged cat-scorpion-girl-thing giving him a look. Why is it looking at him like that? Does he look delicious to it or something?

He doesn't get tot think about it for long before Hazel floats into his field of vision. He turns his head and looks straight at her. As with "Bunny", she can see some kind of fire burning inside his eyes - bright enough that she can't even tell if that's their normal color, they look like two red hot embers.

But, the man doesn't focus on her for long. A human ghost is not particularly remarkable compared to the adventurers and the curious folks talking to them. Besides, he's on a break. As long as Hazel doesn't start a rampage like that Maggot Prime guy, he can finish a beer or two before sending her to her afterlife.

[Ironsmith]

He can see her.

Hazel nods to herself as she looks him over, satisfied he met Bunny's description. "Hey, jackass!" She snaps, standing in the table in front of him. "Oneaya huckstehs stole my body! I want it back, an' I want it back pronto, capiche?" She makes an attempt at pounding her fist on the table for intimidation, but since her hand passes right through, the effect is underwhelming.

[Vahnavoi]

The red embers fix on Hazel's ghost again. The man furrows his brow, which is only barely visible through his bandaging. "Who are you and why are you getting on my face?", he murmurs. To people who can't see ghosts, it looks like he's talking to himself. Or perhaps like he's making some comment about the manticore's appearance.

[Ironsmith]

"Like you don' know." Hazel scowls, drifting out of the table. "I'm the gil your frien' Bunny stole a body from. An' you are the guy tha's gonna help me geddit back." She crosses her arms, one of the few "tough" things she can still do, and glares at him. "Does dat answer yor question?"

[Vahnavoi]

"I really don't", the man replies to the idea of him knowing. As Hazel elaborates, the rusty gears inside his head begin slowly turning. "Ah. "Bunny". Okay. Hmmm. So, that kind of a thing happened. Still doesn't tell me who you are. Or where you got the idea that I'm at all involved. So, ah, a little more detail, please?"

[Ironsmith]

"Don't you go and play dumb wit' me!" Hazel snaps. "She woiks for you! Thehe's no way you..." She trails off, suddenly second-guessing herself. The only word she had that these two were associated was Bunny's own, and she rather provably couldn't be trusted. Bandage man here might not be involved after all.

[Vahnavoi]

The bandaged man manages to finish his beer while Hazel second-guesses herself. "See, that's the face of someone realizing they've been had",, he notes, gesturing towards Hazel with his empty glass. Once again, the action will look rather odd to people without spooky vision. "So, take a deep breath... not that it's air you're breathing, but... okay, make it three deep breaths, then start at the beginning."

[Ironsmith]

Hazel sighs, nods, and fills him in on the whole story; Bunny's appearance in Glass Lake, the offer she'd made to Hazel, her reasons for accepting, the most insultingly bad French kiss she's ever had, and her subsequent realization of what Bunny had done. "She told me ta come an' find you afta I found my wife, but I haven' seen her." She pauses, then, a little more meekly, adds, "Can ya help me?"

[Recaiden]

Obviously the motorcyclist is a ranger and the robot is her animal companion.

As for the bandaged guy, he would be delicious, wouldn't he? Imagine biting into-
No, no, bad idea, eating bar patrons is a bad line of thought. Imagine, instead, drinking this weird coconut drink that your friends have gotten for you.

"Ooh, yeah, I couldn't hurt one at all then. How scary." But of course, that's just why you need a magic-user on the team.

"He talking to us? 's nobody else a his table."
The elemental shakes their head, noticing the ghost, but doesn't elaborate.

"...and it would be foolish, my little friend, to go tomb raiding for more stock without a clear idea of financing."
"You're littler than me!"
"Be foolish to go at all! No 'ffense, you obviously competent adventurers 'n all."

The elemental asks, in a probably magically translated voice of hissing and crackling, what the rest of them plan to do with their share of the treasure.

[Vahnavoi]

The bandaged man puts his glass down and taps his fingertips together, scheming. "You mean, help find your wife, or help find your way back to prison?", he asks. " 'Cause I can do either, or both, but the order of things is sort of important. I'd say, if nothing dramatic happens at the other end, you have, hmmm, six days or so before you need to be back behind bars. Me, I'm not in a hurry... well, not, unless a sorcerous cyborg overlord decides to take over the world or a zombie apocalypse happens. Or something. You never know."

[Ironsmith]

"Dat's... oddly specific." Hazel notes. "Ideally, I'd like ta get my body out of prison, too. Hana an' I have some impohtant stuff ta do dat I can't be behind bars for." She sighs and crosses her arms. "...But if dat's not workable, I'll seddle for knowin' she's safe an' goin' back ta da slammeh." It'd be a terrible experience, but better than the alternatives.

[Vahnavoi]

The man taps his head. "Think about it: you don't want to do your whole time. Why'd "Bunny"? She'll look for someone 'bout to be released and do a freaky friday shuffle with them, then walk out."

"On the plus side, it means you getting your body back is just a matter of time. On the minus side, if you dawdle, you might have to fetch your body from a hospital, or a morgue. A body without a spirit won't be good for long. So, ideally, when "Bunny" hops to the next one, you ought to be there to hop back."

[Ironsmith]

"I guess dat makes sense. But how would she fi-" Hazel stops suddenly as the realization hits her. "Jackie."

She didn't have much time at all.

"Dat liddle..." Hazel lets out a rather colorful string of descriptors for Bunny, questioning her parentage, associating her with various animals and bits of anatomy, and involving gratuitous amounts of excrement. It's fortunate Sandels is the only one to hear this.

[Vahnavoi]

Hazel's tirade is long enough for the man to fetch another beer. "Don't know who this "Jackie" is, but I think you've identified "Bunny's next victim", he mumbles. "Some friendly advice: don't spend too much time hating on people. As a ghost, your emotional state has direct impact on your plasmic state. Lingering resentments are a great way to turn into a heartless evil spirit."

"So. Back to matter at hand. To get back into your body, your best bet is to return to Glass Lake and haunt this "Jackie". I can't think of any easy way to get your body out from behind bars, but maybe you could do a freaky friday shuffle with "Jackie" yourself. Borrow her body, do that thing with your wife, whatever it is, then get back. I can help you find your wife, if you can tell me where you last saw her, how she looks, so on and so forth."

[Earl of Purple]

"Really? Huh. I thought manticore teeth were naturally magic." And even if not, there's a fire elemental right there- they'd be able to do something, probably. "I'm gonna set meself up as a gunsmith, probably in Riverside. Inside's got too much competition. Maybe join the dating scene, see if I can find someone, y'know. Settle down." He's not fully planned it through, it's been a dream for long enough now he can achieve it he's not sure how.
"I will buy a house, host a massive party, and invest. Make more money, so I can throw larger parties, and then when I disperse I'll throw a Goodbye Party and donate anything left over to whatever charity I think most deserve it." Aetherborn have short lives, and know when they end- they've got a sense for it.
"I shall acquire maintenance. I shall find others. Acquire maintenance for them. I shall build a community for the others. I shall be a god." That's... not really how gods work, but everyone else ignore the construction bot's plan, so either they think it'd work or they've given up on explaining how it won't work.

The wizard in the robes steeples their fingers and doesn't say anything, but they have at least managed to order a cup of steaming red tea.

[Ironsmith]

Hazel's tirade is long enough for the man to fetch another beer. "Don't know who this "Jackie" is, but I think you've identified "Bunny's next victim", he mumbles. "Some friendly advice: don't spend too much time hating on people. As a ghost, your emotional state has direct impact on your plasmic state. Lingering resentments are a great way to turn into a heartless evil spirit."

"So. Back to matter at hand. To get back into your body, your best bet is to return to Glass Lake and haunt this "Jackie". I can't think of any easy way to get your body out from behind bars, but maybe you could do a freaky friday shuffle with "Jackie" yourself. Borrow her body, do that thing with your wife, whatever it is, then get back. I can help you find your wife, if you can tell me where you last saw her, how she looks, so on and so forth."

Hazel's face goes pale(r) as Sandels describes the consequences of dwelling on her resentments too long. That was just perfect, wasn't it? Letting stuff go isn't exactly her strong suit, and now her sanity depended on it. Wonderful.

"...Awright." Hazel sighs. "Hana's... she's about yea tall, black haiyr, gorgeous ambeh eyes, an' she's built like..." Hazel traces out an outline with her fingers, a small smile working its way onto her face. "An' she has da sweetest liddle voice... like a chipmunk, but sexieh..." She blinks her way out of that nostalgic haze and back to reality. "...Dat's what she looks like. Think ya can remembeh dat?"