Trog's Tavern CLV

[Earl of Purple]

The wizard just stays put and waves as Sandals and possibly Hazel go and leave. They aren't planning on going on the rescue mission, which is handy as they've already gone.

"Yeah, they really built stuff to last. If it weren't for the fact they powered their cars with miniaturised nuclear reactors that explode if the road's too bumpy, I'd patch one up and drive it around. But there's safer electric vehicles around, ones that don't require a nuclear engineer to fix if they break down." That's a bit of an exaggeration, the cars don't explode if the road is too bumpy. But they do explode if they're jolted too much, for example when hit by another car.

[Recaiden]

"They made 'em explodable? Damn, that's really cutting corners. Or maybe the cars were just really heavy?"

The map is retrieved and put away again.
"So, so, the question is, do any of you want to go back for more treasure? You know the place, after all."

[Earl of Purple]

"Not deliberately explosive, it's just... They've got very volatile fuel and the method used to store it can't be small enough to mount in a personal vehicle and be stable enough to be totally fool proof. Me? No, the tomb we found is empty now. Knowing where it is isn't much of an advantage. And I want to buy a scarab and start up a merchant business, buying and selling stuff in Outside. Still wandering the place, but hopefully far less dangerous." And she knows where to find several communities already, and what they most need that she could supply.
"Also no, I'm gonna be a gunsmith, not a gunmage. Maybe find an apprentice, or a husband, or both." He can buy the tools he needs now, and set up a workshop as well.
"I won't either. I want to experience new things, try skydiving or windsurfing or something." The aetherborn has been an adventurer, and it was fun, but now they're bored of it and want to try something new.

[Recaiden]

"A husband? But-"
The warmly-dressed one lightly whacks the manticore with a mitten, meaning "don't ask dumb questions".

'Oh, well, skydiving is super-fun." they suggests to the aetherborn.
It's not really the same when you can fly, though.

"Anyway,guys, to top off the celebration, we should have a treasure hunt, huh?"
"......fine. See I'm outnumbered."
The elemental grumbles something about new possibilities.

[Earl of Purple]

"You're right, I should have married sooner, but... I wasn't really looking, y'know? Adventure drove me, not romance." The half-orc either misunderstood the manticore's brief confusion, or is deliberately trying to confuse it further.
"Oh? That's good to hear. I shall bump that up my list." The aetherborn nods, and waves as the group leaves- if they're leaving and Earl hasn't misunderstood.

[Ironsmith]

"...and then Lydia says to me, 'Jon, what are you doing? He's on a cliff.'" The man at the table chuckles as his companions let out a collective, anticipatory "oooooooooh" as they can all see where this story is going. "So I look him dead in the eye, sheathe my sword, and yell out-"

"I swear to Absum, Jon, if you guys all yell out 'fus ro dah' and level the table again, I'm dragging you all out of the bar." Kyrie grumbles.

The man shrugs. "Anyway, that's how I handled that challenger."

"What is with those guys? I had one get mad at me because I conjured up a battleaxe to deal with him. Did nobody tell him that Conjuration is still magic?"

"You actually fought him? Pft. This one just talked him down and picked him clean. Then I slipped him a paralytic poison for good measure and left him naked on the mountain. The one with the dragon at the peak and the bears at the base."

"...You're a special kind of bastard, you know that?"

As the table bursts into laughter again, one of the customers- a golden-skinned elf in spiky black armor- pushes his chair back and stands up. "When I heard there was a meeting of Dragonborn at this tavern, I had hoped to find more than a collection of easily-amused thugs. Clearly, I was mistaken." He says in a flat, annoyed tone.

"Ooh, look out fellas, Sauron's mad at us." One of the assembled warriors of legend chuckles.

"For the last time, I am not-"

"Elf who thinks he's better than everyone else."
"Wears black armor to battle."
"Wields a magic, spiked mace."

The elf holds up the mace in question; a squarish club with a series of leering, demonic faces along each of its sides. "The Mace of Molag Bal, and you know it."

"Put an awful lot of investment in Speechcraft, Smithing, Enchantment, and Heavy Armor."
"And has been trying to get us to buy magic rings ever since he got here." The conjurer concludes. "Admit it. You ripped off Sauron."

"I did no such thing!" The elf exclaims, outraged. "I'd never even heard of this... Sauron person before today. How could I possibly have modeled myself after him?"

"I don't know, but ya did."

The elf gives the table a pointed glare and storms off to a different table, doing his best to shrug off the raucous laughter at his expense from the people behind him. Harrumph. Perhaps his time would be better spent with a person of greater quality.

That one looks like a good candidate.

[Earl of Purple]

The person in question that looks to be 'better quality' is a young woman with pale skin and pink-purple hair. She doesn't look human, though she's humanoid; she's got long, pointed ears and her cheekbones and face is subtly inhuman; she doesn't quite look elvish, either. She's also got blue eyes. She's wearing a pair of jeans, trainers, and a burgundy shirt. She tilts her head at the newcomer to her table, and smiles. "Don't worry, laddie. I don't know who 'Sauron' is, neither. You want a pint?" She waves over a server, and makes an order of her own.

[Ironsmith]

"Laddie". What a strangely familiar way to refer to someone she's just met. The elf regards this woman with a look somewhere between offense and curiosity, but pulls up a chair all the same. "A bottle of Powerlust Pinot, if you please." He begins, producing a handful of Septims from his... pocket? Belt purse? He seems to have that sort of extradimensional storage space common to video game characters. Wherever he's getting them, it should be clear he intends to pay his own way. Divines know he can afford it. "And a plate of brownies, as well." He adds.

"To be perfectly honest, I am more than aware of who my doppelganger is now." The elf resumes, turning his attention back to the woman. "An ambitious warlord from another realm, with a penchant for false gifts, as I understand it. Rest assured that our similarities do not go beyond the superficial, and I have no intention of conquering the known world." He curls the corners of his mouth up into a polite smile. "I am called Yuvan. A pleasure to meet you."

[Earl of Purple]

The woman looks interested in where the coins came from; that's an interesting trick.

"I'm glad to hear it. I happen to live in the known world, and conquering it would not make me happy. My name is Boada. Pleased t' meet you, too." She smiles, and uses a bit of magic to influence him, make him feel a bit more favourable to her- which might make her seem prettier.

"So you're an adventurer, or mercenary? Or are you a purveyor of false gifts?" She tries to look him in the eyes, encouraging the magic further. Of course, it's entirely possible the elf notices it or isn't affected without noticing- her magic isn't that strong.

[Ironsmith]

"Nothing of the sort." Yuvan replies, producing a jewelry box and setting it on the table. "Though I have enjoyed a long, productive career as all three. In the present day, I am a merchant and a craftsman." He pops open the box and turns it so Boada can see; it's lined wall-to-wall with various rings, made from silver and gold, adorned with rubies, diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, and garnets. The top half of the box displays a number of decorative amulets, of similar make and material. "I specialize in enchantments. Everything you see here has magic woven into it, designed to assist adventurers and civilians alike in everyday tasks. If you see something you like, by all means; they're all for sale."

"...Almost all." Yuvon retrieves a plain gold band from the row of rings closest to Boada and tucks it away, giving her an apologetic smile.

[Earl of Purple]

"Oh, now those are pretty." She looks at the jewellery with interested- and experienced- eyes. They follow Yuvon's fingers with the gold ring, trying to see where it goes.

She passes her hand over them, as though she's trying to figure out which one she wants to pick up, but that's deceitful. She's actually checking them, to figure out what they can actually do. Her magic is again quite subtle, and Yuvon might miss it. She's looking for one that can boost stealth or something similar.

[Ironsmith]

There are several potential candidates among Yuval's wares.

RING OF SECRECY
Weight 0.25, Value 1000
Illusions cost 419% less to cast
Sneaking is 419% easier

SLEK'S RING
Weight 0.25, Value 500
Sneaking is 419% easier
Bows and Crossbows do 419% more damage

ASSASSIN'S RING
Weight 0.25, Value 5000
Potions and poisons are 419% better
Pickpocketing is 419% easier

BURGLAR'S RING
Weight 0.25, Value 1000
Locks are 419% easier to pick
Sneaking is 419% easier

Yuvan's other ring, the plain gold band he picked from the box, disappears into his pocket(?) for the time being. Some things are far too precious to sell.

Meanwhile, Yuvan's watching Boada critically, looking for any lingering gazes, subtle twitches of the finger, changes in breathing... anything that might betray an interest in his work. He's a seasoned merchant, and he isn't about to let a potential deal slip by him.

Incidentally, for the same reasons, he's vigilant for and likely to spot any sleight of hand on her part. He hasn't gotten this far in life by letting every thief and pickpocket run off with his valuables.

[Earl of Purple]

Boada isn't great at this sort of thing. She'll reach down and tap the Burglar's Ring; the others aren't entirely her forte, which might mean she's able to get ahead in areas she's not great in, or it might just mean she's spent a pot of money on an enchantment she just won't use.

"What's this one do, and how much?" Her magic doesn't give her any information on value; that's far too subjective, and Earl doesn't work in solid figures much anyway so she probably doesn't know the exact figures from her divination. Her other hand reaches into a pocket, pulling out a bag. Presumably, money or other valuables.

[Ironsmith]

Yuvan smiles. "That ring was designed for fine craftsman who can not meet the volume demands of their customers. It allows the wearer the fine manual dexterity to produce delicate hand motions quickly and precisely." He half-lies, omitting any mention of its stealth-enhancing features. "Ordinarily, I would not part with it for less than two thousand Septims... but I will make an exception for you. I offer it at half price."

[Earl of Purple]

Boada grimaces at the price. "Alas, I cannot afford so much, and I am no craftswoman. This is all I have to spare." She opens the bag, revealing about five hundred gold coins, each with seven sides and stamped on one side with a horseshoe and on the other with an oak leaf. "What could this get me?" The coins, if Yuvan takes one, are real gold to all senses, exceptionally pure real gold too. They also, however, seem to have an enchantment on them, which the elf might be able to notice.

[Ironsmith]

Yuvan idly runs one of the coin over his fingers, getting a feel for its weight distribution and composition, rubbing his thumb against it to determine the potency of magic. "...Hm." He mutters. "For five hundred of these, I suppose I can part with this ring." He smiles. "A pleasure doing business with you. And please, tell your friends. It never hurts to network."

[Earl of Purple]

The magic is quite potent, though it's being fed by a passive draw from Baoda's own system. The magic won't last long unless Yuvan can figure out how to maintain the system- about five minutes.

"Oh, I'm not sure ye'll want my friends custom." Baoda smiles and hands the bag over, taking the ring- so long as Yuvan gives it up. Then she'll glance up at the clock over the bar. "Oh, my. Is that the time? Lovely t' meet you, but I really should be goin' now. Good luck with your business, Yuvan." She smiles and will attempt to stand up to leave. The draw from her magic ended the moment she handed the bag over, though she might be able to reconnect it before the existing magic has worn off.

[Ironsmith]

Yuvan tilts his head and smiles genially. "Of course. Until next time." He says, waving her off.

Of course, her timing strikes him as extremely suspicious and he's going to follow as soon as he can.

When her back is turned, Yuvan reaches into the jewelry box and slips on one of the rings Boada was looking at. Thus equipped, he waits for her to leave, then raises his hands and knits together a pair of spells; one which muffles his footsteps, the other which will render him temporarily invisible.

ILLUSION INCREASED TO 19
[====]------------] 44

With that, the elf follows her out, careful not to bump into anyone or anything that might give away his presence.

[Vahnavoi]

After his little detour through Skyside and Vigil's skybase, a certain swordsman finally arrives back at the tavern, to do what he originally meant: rent a room and have a good night's sleep free of all the madness.

Only to notice, at the last moment, that his money pouch has gone missing.

Star of Hope checks folds of his clothes, then does it again. Oh no. His shirt got destroyed when fighting with Magtok Prime's acidic blood rained on it, didn't it? Did all his cash get wrecked in the same go.

He looks around, to see if the tavern has been fixed since. Maybe, if he's lucky, his money just got dropped somewhere? He looks around for some idle staff member, clear his throat and goes to ask. "Excuse me. I was here some time ago, when a cyborg centipede caused a scene. I... think I may have dropped all my money here when it happened. Small glass spheres, with gem chips embedded inside, inside a small pouch. Has anyone seen anything like that?"

[bc56]

Behind the bar right now is the apprentice barkeeper who Star of Hope may remember as joining in the cyborg centipede fight by spilling beer which turned into a rampaging mold monster on it. Her name tag reads "Selekhael," which is not a normal human name at all, but other than that she seems to be a normal human around 17 or 18, with black hair in a ponytail and wearing a long blue dress under a Trog's apron.
The tavern has since been repaired, of course.
"Uh, glass spheres with gems, you say? Something like this?" She goes to the register and retrieves one such sphere.

[Vahnavoi]

Selekhael's name doesn't stick out to Star of Hope all that much - he doesn't have a good idea which names are or aren't common in these parts. Her appearance doesn't stick out to him either - last time they met, she may or may not have been a lion-eagle-bug-thing.

He does recognize the sphere. "Yes, that looks familiar. These... aren't common currency, are they? I mean, do a lot of people use these to pay? Because I got one exactly like this from a bank earlier."

[bc56]

She was a human earlier in the fight, but not trying to be noticed. Then she was indeed a lion-eagle-coral-ring thing, not at all human.
"No, they're not common, but, uh, lots of uncommon things, uh, happen here. A man, uh, wrapped in bandages used these to buy a drink the other day. I, uh, didn't think anything of it."

[Vahnavoi]

"A man wrapped in bandages? Did he also wear a jacket of black leather?" The swordsman's fairly sure of what the answer's going to be even as he asks. Whatever other reasons that shady "Sandels" character had for vanishing after their fight with Magtok Prime, apparently he can add pickpocketing him to the list.

[5a Violista]

[Weird Bathroom]

Ugh, this again. Too powerful that it overwhelms her natural resistance, and there's not enough going on that she can't just distract herself from the psychic stuff. Kinda figured after helping whats-his-face, she'd get followed but...doesn't this seem a little too much?

June frequently overthinks past confrontations and interactions...and usually it doesn't matter, but she's never been more thankful for doing that than right now. If she could redo that Centipede Prime encounter, she would have gotten better at chi-blocking, would react and do something faster, and, most importantly, she would say a wicked one-liner.
Also she'd probably accept the reward instead of turning it down out of some dumb sense of pride.
And!
Luckily,
since then she's had plenty of time to think of a one-liner.

June breathes in, and out, and makes sure she has her breathing under control. She starts channeling chi to act as a cushion between her and the psychic presence (honestly, that's really the only thing she knows how to do with chi). And she quickly prays in her mind.

"Since you seem to think you're my god," June starts saying, as she finishes her mental preparations for what she's about to do...
June starts running towards the creature, twice as fast as a normal person could run. She raises a hand and gets ready for a cartwheel.
Once close enough, June falls into a broken cartwheel, and then turns that into an L-kick aimed at the imitation's head - twice as fast and twice as hard as a human should be capable of. With her free hand (the one not used in the cartwheel), June reaches out at one of the creature's centipedal legs, to grab at it. "I'll let you rest in peace," she says, finishing her line.

Nailed it, she thinks. 10/10 one-liner.

[Ironsmith]

[Weird Bathroom]

The effect is something like crushing an actual centipede underfoot; the Prime replica's head explodes into a mess of viscera and grey matter, the shock wave traveling down its robotic exoskeleton and rattling its limbs out of their sockets. Within seconds, what originally looked to be the third coming of the infamous psychic overlord is reduced to a pathetic pile of electronic components and organic-looking slurry; a much shoddier imitation of the real thing than it at first appeared to be.

The hollow woman stares at June in disbelief. "What the hell was... how the hell did you... what?!"

That one-liner probably did all the work. Ten out of ten job there.

[bc56]

"Uh, I think he did," Selekhael replies, "Why? Do you know him?" She's starting to seem a little concerned. She doesn't want to be giving the one stranger information that would let him murder the other.

[Vahnavoi]

The swordsman does look like one to murder someone, doesn't he? "Not exactly... he helped me track down Magtok Prime's ghost. He vanished afterwards, and now I think he took all my money with him", Star of Hope replies dryly. "Does he happen to be regular customer? I might want to exchange a few... words with him."

[bc56]

"He's been here a couple times, uh, I don't know if I'd call him a regular." Selekhael thinks she's seen him here two, maybe three times? Not enough to know who he is.

[Vahnavoi]

Not a regular, then. The swordsman shakes his head in disappointment. "I suppose I won't catch him by hanging around here, then", he remarks. "If you chance to see him, tell him he owes me money. But until then, uh... your tavern wouldn't happen to accept credit? I really need to sleep somewhere that isn't my home for a night."

[bc56]

"Uh..." What was the policy on credit again? "Hold on, uh, let me get the book out." Selekhael rummages under the bar and retrieves a dictionary-sized book. She opens somewhere near the front and starts reading. "Uh, let's see... Eggs... No. Dwarven ale... Droids... What do you mean we don't serve their kind here and they have to wait outside?" Sekhmet looks over at a table where a pair of droids are oiling their joints. "Oh, whatever. It's, uh, not like anyone, uh, follows most of these rules. I'm not even sure they're supposed to be there. I can, uh, open a tab for you." She sets the book heavily back underneath the bar.