Trog's Tavern CLV

[Reinholdt]

[New Beginning]

Reinholdt is sitting at the bar. He's not an infrequent customer, but has been coming around less and less thanks to his personal rum supply. Still, this was the place to meet new people. To ruminate on past mistakes. And in some ways, wait and hope for the Random Encounters of olde. They were fancy Lootboxes before the term had been properly coined. Rein can say-

The handsome fey with pink, pupil-less eyes has his self indulgent thoughts interrupted by a pair of new guests. Rein can't say he recognizes either of them... unless... was that the reindeer the other Rein was warning him about? The beautiful but exceedingly dangerous, clumsy klutz?

It probably wasn't a coincidence. She had the antlers, and she had clearly tripped into the man she was carrying and caused him great injury. Or something. Makes sense to Rein in his tipsy state. Still, that man could probably use the help of someone. Maybe even someone who has a lot of experience patching up his own wounds in the field? Though... given the state of him, he looks like he needs more than a simple patch job.

Nevertheless, Rein's not one to pass up the opportunity to stick his nose in where it doesn't belong to help people he doesn't know. Snatching the first aid kit from behind the bar, he heads over to where Reuma and Maxson are sequestering. "Hey there. Do you need a doctor?" Rein asks, sounding professional in his biker jacket and tight pants. "I play one on tv," he says, holding out the first aid kit in a peace offering for that bad joke that is either ignoring the importance of timing, or wringing it to the death. "I can find one for you if you do."

[bc56]

Dungeon of Doom
"Yuvan?" Orathius hasn't met him. "An alchemist would be useful, but we don't have one. We should concentrate on stopping whoever is making these monsters." Orathius doesn't think anything else in this room is of value. He heads for the secret door they came through and towards the non-secret door in the first room.

[ResidentScribe]

[New beginning]

Even as he tried to wrap his head around the situation around him, Maxson just couldn't quite get there just yet. but what he did understand was the person talking to him, helping him, leading him to the tavern. "Yes, the tavern" He groaned, remembering what other passers by had told him. He felt the strange tingle in his chest, looking down, Maxson saw the person, no, woman's hand on his chest and it was glowing. He couldn't say much about it as his mind was taken completely but the sudden rush of warm air.

He was now effectively being dragged, his own stubborness keeping him on his feet but forward momentum was lost. He slumped a little as he was placed into the corner booth, the gear clipped to his body clattered against the booth seat and the floor. He let out a long grunt as he felt the wound in his stomach, just below his body armour. He blinked lightly as he tried to look around the room he was in and the people in it, moreso at the person helping him. There was something oddly familiar about her, impossibly so. A lot of it was in the eyes, the way she looked at him especially. The mask was different but, the eyes said it all, she knew him, the horns were also very familiar. He reached a hand up to brush some of his wet and wild hair away from his face, trying to get a better look then it hit him. That last person he helped onto the helicopter, it was her, at least he thought it was.

Then came the leather jacket, the bright pink eyes seemed to make Maxson even more convinced he was either dying or the very least, losing his mind. "What in the..." he tried to back up a little but stopped as he felt Reuma grab him to keep him still. I-I'm fine... I should be healing" he added as he tried to steady himself. "Where the hell am I?" He asked as he looked between the two people.

[Aurora Alchemi]

[New Beginning]

Reuma's eyes glitter softly with concern as Maxson tries to protest the help some. "Should be healing is the operative word. Don't strain yourself, there might have been some silver involved when you got hurt." Reuma pulls back the uniform, examining each of Maxson's wounds with her glowing hands. It wasn't bad, but it also wasn't great. She had to find what was lurking about and causing him to stop healing.Then there is that look, of half familiarity from Maxson, and the pronghorn stutters for a moment. No, no... don't think about that, not now. He's not even your Maxson, who knows if he would even like you... Just focus on getting him better.

Rein's interruption doesn't even draw a look from the hazel eyes locked in concentration, though a single ear turns to listen to him somewhat better. Reaching out and taking the medical kit, Reuma starts to open it up and take out different items right away. "I am a doctor, thank you. However if you want to help, I could use it. Please go get me some warm broth, a pair of tongs, and a pint of the highest proof alcohol the tavern has, preferably something that would catch on fire if you put a match to it." The way Reuma addresses the newcomer isn't impolite... but there is a tone of discipline to the way it's presented that all but the haziest drunkards would recognize. It was presented as an ask, but the tone made it clear it was a demand for staying. Although the healer did not outright turn Reinholdt away, perhaps a sign of patience or a lack of wisdom.

Carefully tracing her fingers over the belly wound, there is a flicker of red magic, and the pain dulls considerably, though the pronghorn flinches and winces slightly. "That's... A complicated question, and I'm not entirely sure myself. I'm new here too, but.... they call it the Nexus, I believe." Reuma places one hand against Maxson's forehead, as if to feel his temperature, and then begins to use the warm fur coat she had wrapped around him to try and dry Maxson a little. Keep him talking, it will prevent shock... He's warming up some, but it needs to go a bit quicker. Reuma gently grabs his hand, placing it on the hem of his uniform. "Can you hold this for me? Where did you live? I mean, since you are new here too, haha." Avoid talking about the accident, it could cause him too much distress, or make him go into beast form...

[Ironsmith]

[Weird Bathroom]

Sadly,
June doesn't notice that she was supposed to be embarrassed by the cat-features' sudden and embarrassing appearance. So she doesn't even act embarrassed, sadly. "Cool, thanks."

She just thinks the guy decided to add them after she asks.

June examines the additions, tugging on them as if inspecting their quality.
"Just need to put these on, first," she says. And maybe see how else she can push the boundries.

She looks at the clothes, trying to decide if she should just put them on right now or go behind the wardrobe or something. "There somewhere I can change?"

Bedore giving the person time to think about the answer, audibly sighs and says, largely to herself, "I'm sure I would do so much better if my sister were here to cheer for me. Being the Away Team is the worst." Her 'sister' being Venus who is currently hopped up on warlock drugs over in HALO right now.

Anyway, more importantly, regarding putting on the maid outfit. "I presume the weapons are in the pockets, right?"

[Weird Bathroom]

The caped man kneels next to June and points out into the crowd, at a familiar figure out in the crowd. The Venus look-alike is cheering June's name enthusiastically, and waves to her "sister" the moment she sees her. "Does that help?" The man asks with a smile. "If you require privacy, there's a changing room down the stairs."

And of course, if June checks the outfit's pockets, she'll find whatever weapons she'd want in there, ranging from knives to grenades to sci-fi disintegration rays, depending one what she has in mind. She doesn't need to tell the caped man what she wants.

[Reinholdt]

[New Beginning]

Uh-oh. Not one, but two new people? And they were off to a rocky start. Reinholdt has no idea if the Nexus caused Maxson's injuries or not, but he hadn't heard screaming down the street so it was probably one of those science experiments gone wrong. Or falling into a black hole. Or elder thing ritual. Or battlefield portal. Something blasted him here. Probably. Doesn't explain the pronghorn, but honestly, guesses are the best you can get sometimes for Nexus explanations.

"Yes, the Nexus, a multi-dimensional gateway hub with more entrances than exits. I'll answer your questions soon enough. Focus on living first. You're in Trog's, which is safe. But don't sign anything!" That was a lie. Trog's was never 'safe'. It was safer than many places and had a decent bouncer, but unscrupulous types with canny and a subtle touch could do a lot of damage. As could the mutant alligator attacks. Mostly safe!

"Lucky for you, I've personally tested each and every drink in this place for flammability," Reinholdt tells the doctor. Huh, when was the last time he saw an actual doctor living in the Nexus? Nigel, Quinn? They're not common, that's for sure, usually regulated to the haunted hospitals and a dreary life absent of any tavern adventures. Rein gives a hand flourish and a half-bow to suggest he's at Reuma's service as he steps lightly back towards the kitchen to collect the requested items on the doctor's list. He'll return in a moment.

[ResidentScribe]

[New Beginning]

Maxson blinked at the other stranger as they rambled on about something called the nexus. He wasn't sure if they were drunk, crazy or both. Though as he felt the Pronghorn's hands be a little more firm with him, he dedcided to focus back on her once again. Even as they argued over medical credentials, he couldn't help but feel oddly protective of the woman helping him "Yeah, she's a doctor" He said as he leaned back.

He blinked a few times as he stared up at the ceiling. "Home... not really had a home just moved one place to another wherever they needed us" He explained as he took hold of his uniform. With his other hand however, he slowly reached for his side and pulled on a tab activating the quick release for his vest. With little to no effort, it slipped off to the side and onto the floor along with a few other bits of his gear. He put on a bit more of a brave face as he rested back again.

Silver made sense, the darn foxes were clever like that, not that they were the enemy but they were the ones who discovered the weakness. "What... what about you?" He asked as he looked at his helping medic. "You said you were new here, how new?" He asked her as he wondered, if just out of hope, she was who he thought she was.

[Aurora Alchemi]

[New Beginning]

As Rein leaves to get the requested supplies, Maxson loosens the gear, giving Reuma better access to all of the wounds. "Yeah... I remember what that's like... It's a bit rough not knowing where you are going." The hazel eyes fix on each little cut, the glowing hands softly sorting through the strands of Maxson's weave, feeling and touching to find the problem. And there it was, silver... but not a lot. Of course, it didn't matter if it was a lot, it would knock the ulfen down a peg either way. "Press here please, until I get tongs, I won't be able to get that bit out, ok?" The tender fingers press different, smaller cuts together, focusing on where the flesh could be woven back together without harm. Soft green sparks crackle, the skin flowing back together, and leaving no trace of the injury behind, only a relaxing and warm tingle.

But then Maxson turned the questions back on Reuma, causing a soft crackle of purple, sad sparks. "I-i... A few months, or so. I... remember that there were so many differences between there and here. It's taken a lot to get used to technology, and electric power running everywhere. It's a lot...." The hazel eyes settle onto Maxson's face, seeing that glimmer of hope in his face. The lad never was able to hide his feelings around the pronghorn... Reuma pauses for a moment, then whispers. "Oh... you meant... n-no I'm sorry... I'm not your Reuma... and if your injuries are this bad.... She's probably..." The medic stops herself. "Listen, I... I lost my Maxson when I came too... I...." Reuma pauses, like she wants to say something, the sorrow in her voice cracking slightly. "At least both of us lived through getting here, regardless of where we came f-from." What if my Maxson died when I came too? How would I... For a moment, Reuma just leans forward and hugs the poor soldier.

Then, she breaks away, timed right as Rein returns. "If you wouldn't mind, feed Maxson the broth in small sips. He needs to get his body temperature back up.... And thank you again for helping." The air of professionalism returns, and for a moment Reuma is glad that the mask hides the tears on her face. Reaching out and grabbing the spirits and the tongs, the medic gives a quick flame sterilization. "Alright, Maxson, hold still, please." In a moment, the tongs are used to fish a few shards of what used to be a radio communicator out of the soldier's abdomen... However there isn't a hint of pain, just a mild discomfort. Instead the medic's free hand clenches slightly, crackling with a malevolent red faefire, and the pronghorn mutters a few small oaths under her breath. As the pieces are put to the side, sweat drips from the medic's hands, yet they still work to finish the healing. However, one mystery is solved; the radio used lead free solder on the circuitry, which happens to include silver in the alloy.

[Reinholdt]

[New Beginning]

Reinholdt nods as he hands over the requested materials, except for the broth, though he does raise a little bit of an eyebrow. Feed him now in the middle of a shrapnel extraction? W-well, she's the doctor he supposes. He moves over to beside Maxson's head. "Maxson was it? Well the circumstances are pretty terrible for enjoying Zee's patented bouillon, but it'll go down easy at least." One spoonful makes it to Maxson's lips.

"I'm Reinholdt, Treasure Hunter Extraordinaire." He refrains from his more dramatic flourish, his hands already preoccupied. There's some quiet after that as he focuses upon his task and lets them focus upon their own. But mostly his eyes are scanning them for what he can learn. Little things, nothing exceptional. Maxson was an obvious soldier. He would be looking for the stability of command and leadership most likely. A hard fit in this chaotic world.

Reuma was more than a doctor. She was some kind of spellcaster. One having trouble? New to the healing arts perhaps? Versed in mundane, but utilizing the magical. Yet... it looked like she was struggling with this more than Maxson in some ways. It was strange. They did come in together, so there was the distinct possibility that she was also injured, but adeptly hiding it so as to treat him first. Doctors really were the worst patients. "And your name?" Rein asks the pronghorn.

[ResidentScribe]

[New Beginning]

Maxson slumped back and did as he was told by Reuma, a shaky sigh leaving his lips as he listened. "Not my Reuma..." he repeated back to her as he looked up at the ceiling again. "So the drunk is right... I'm in a multi dimensional gatway... thing". He thumped his fist against the bench seat in frustration. "And... you're not my Reuma... I really did see that happen" He whispered the last bit under his breath as he looked back at the Pronghorn. "Signe would kill me... though if... no, she's gone too isn't she" He added before Reuma hugged him.

As the drunk returned, Maxson pulled a pillow from the bench to rest his head up on. "Honestly, if its better than the MRE's and scraps I've been having for the last year... I'm fine with it" He gave a little smile before accepting a spoonful. "So... Treasure hunter..." He pondered to himself outloud. "Any luck with that recently?" He asked for having another spoonful. He let out a little gasp of discomfort but it soon dulled at Reuma's magic worked away at him, it was so familiar yet different. He'd seen Reuma work on the injured before, at least his Reuma anyway, the magic was similar but it looked different.

The large Ulfen blinked as he saw the parts being removed from his wounds. "Well... that explains what happed to my radio" He half chuckled before feeling the immediate difference once the silver was being removed. "They really weren't kidding, just the smallest amount of silver is enough" he joked as he made eye contact with the medic. "Thank you" He added before hesitantly patting her arm.

[Aurora Alchemi]

[New Beginning]

"My name is Reuma Almsheir." The reply quiet, with an air of politeness though it was clear that most of Reuma's attention was on the patient. Now that the silver was out of the wounds, the healer begins their work in earnest, weaving magic quickly. Her horns softly glow in green and blue, and the air feels... refreshing somehow? Almost like a relaxing nap. The actual healing was fairly impressive to watch, as fingers drew along cuts, the flesh leaping back together and knitting, tears and bruises fading rapidly. It wasn't like most normal healing magic, instead it had a distinctness that made it clear it was dependent on skill, more like surgery than spell.

And yet, there seemed to be a darker nature that Reuma was tapping into as well. As she worked on the larger belly wounds, there was first a crackle of red that felt distinctly unnerving, and the wounds themselves seemed almost to halfway heal in an instant. Careful observation could reveal the secret of the trick, however, as one of the healer's hands worked on weaving Maxson, while another moved to her own belly, a few seeps of fresh red blood welling into the pronghorn's dress. Yet again, there is hardly more than a finch out of the healer. "At l-least there will be a good meal available when we are done..."

Finishing with the largest and most concerning of the wounds, the medic pauses, pulling down the mask to wipe her brow of sweat. The delicate face, marred with burn and scar, looked over to Maxson, then at Reinholdt. "O-or at least.... I would like something to eat. The... healing can really take it out of me sometimes." It's a brave front, but the slight palid undertone to her complexion hints once more at something a little deeper than ordinary exhaustion. Yet still, after a moment's rest, the healer settles back into work, ears flicking back softly, the mask remaining to the side for now. "Actually, speaking of treasure hunting, c-could you find me some water in a desert too? I'm parched, but a little indisposed of t-trying to get it right now... Maxson, you are doing great. We're almost done, just the little stuff left. Y-you had a pretty bad tear in your intestines that didn't want to heal."

[Reinholdt]

[New Beginning]

Rein smiles to himself, all too familiar with bad food, though perhaps still better than MREs. "A couple thousand gems here and there. Dragon skeleton made of gold. Nothing special really. Haven't died yet. So I guess everything's working out." Reinholdt is definitely exaggerating. Not about the gems or the dragon skeleton. Just because he personally hasn't died, doesn't mean he doesn't remember all those times his past self did! It hasn't sticked at least. That's something.

His attention is drawn away from his spoon feeding job rather quickly by Reuma's injuries. Fresh. Whatever she was doing was clearly hurting herself. It was a wonderment how cleanly Maxson was getting better, though now Rein's got some idea as to why. He stands up and instead of helpfully getting her water, he most unhelpfully goes to physically impose himself between Reuma and Maxson. Apparently personal space is not something he understands.

"Hey. You said he's out of the woods right? Not going to die anytime soon? Then you need to stop. There are other healers and facilities that can take care of the little things. You'd be surprised what people can bounce back from without magical aid." Rein tries to put a reassuring hand on Reuma's shoulder, in an effort to guide her to a seat. "You clearly need help of your own. You're bleeding." He motions at Paige, asking her to bring over some fresh water. An unusual request to hear from Rein so Paige does a brief double take until noting his companions and getting them the requested water at no charge as well as some of their cleanest towels.

[Rebonack]

In regards to the healing going on at one of the private booths, the 'strange barmaid' offered a wave to Reuma but nothing more. They seem to have things well in hand and she isn't one to jump in and help unless her aid is specifically requested. It's better for people to work these things out on their own, in her estimation.

The rest of the servers will certainly provide any supplies needed, though.

Truth be told Zee really doesn't mind people getting pulled into the tavern for healing. Technically, Inari's is right through the mirror portal nearby, but that doesn't see much use these days. A thankful thing; the tavern is far less stabby that it was decades ago. Reuma's technique is a little concerning, though. Giving of yourself to mend another is a practice Zee is well familiar with, but she's got the mass to spare. Reuma, by contrast, is tiny.

It's a thankful thing that Maph isn't around to spin that into a fat joke.

Thus far the 'no malevolent fae allowed' sign seems to be working.


[Dungeons of Doom]

Meanwhile, in the adventuring dungeon that is inexplicably accessible from the Trog's wine cellar!

"The other Last Dragonborn I encountered. An Altmer. He struck me as a reasonably pleasant person, for a high elf. With enough of a moral fiber to forsake the Thalmor," Fenris recounts. The way Yuvan had described it, the Thalmor honestly don't sound all that different from the Stormcloaks. Xenophobic and fanatically nationalistic. It's no wonder that both groups make Fenris uneasy.

There was only a secret door in the first chamber (aside from the entrance) and only one exit from the room full of foreboding tubes.

Said door opens into a winding hallway that meanders to the south, lined with tables and work benches and alchemy stations heaped with half-finished potions and flawed humunculi. The various potions here are all labeled with that same incomprehensible coded script, which makes guessing to their purpose difficult to say the least. Aside from the sundry alchemical concoctions and reagents there's a conspicuous electrum plated skull with cut emeralds for eyes sitting on one of the tables.

As our heroes near it there's a distinct feeling of being watched.

At the end of the hallway (though one must squeeze around a cabinet to get at it) is another closed door. Wooden, unadorned, with a simple bronze knob and lock that has tarnished green with all the chemicals in the air.

[bc56]

Dungeon of Doom
"Thalmor..." Orathius' voice is razor.edged, but his face is unseen. Clearly there's bad blood there. "None of this is useful to me. I'll go work on the door." He goes to attempt to pick the lock, most likely snapping a couple picks in the process, but eventually getting it.

Meanwhile Upstairs
Selekhael pauses in the process of wiping down the bar and glances over at Zee. Her angelic and barkeeping mentor was gone for a while. Apparently it's something that occasionally happens.

[ResidentScribe]

[New Beginning]

As Reuma explained about only having the little things left to heal, he gently took her hand. He didn't think he need to say anything, but Reinholdt said it anyway. There was that look she gave back to him, the same he'd seen when watching Reuma work in the past, or at least his Reuma. "It's okay... I've got it from here" He gave her a little wink as he slowly dragged himself up to sit a little more upright. All the while his hand stayed on hers. "I... don't want to see you hurt again" He added under his breath as he helped her to sit back in a chair. "Please" He whispered to her specifically.

He cleared his throat a little as he realised the tension in the air, he brushed his hair back away from his face in an attempt to tidy up and make himself more presentable. "I uh... thank you... even you treasure hunter" He gave Reinholdt nod of thanks before reaching to stir his broth. "I know we just settled but, but I take it there's no easy way back where I came from?" He asked the two. Even as he spoke, his smaller cuts and scrapes were already starting to heal on their own.

[Aurora Alchemi]

[New Beginning]

The pronghorn's temper flares slightly, an orange crackle scattering from the magical horns, and her face narrowing into a frustrated, although somewhat cute, pout. "I'm fine really, see? I know what I'm doing!" The healer moves a bit of fabric, revealing her navel. There was a bit of blood, but no trace of injury otherwise... at least, not from this encounter. Several large scars dot here and there, including a wicked tear of a scar in the shape of a crescent moon. While the skin is soft and demure, it's clear that Reuma's seen, and outlasted some things. For a moment the pronghorn's ears flatten and it looks almost like they are going to slap Rein.

But then Maxson gives the small plea, and Reuma's standoffish front melts. Instead, a navy blue aura washes over the healer's horns, and the air feels dimly of sadness. "Listen, I just don't want... to lose you again, you know? I-i know what I'm doing, and I'm fine. Silver doesn't stop my healing." Reuma leans back softly, eyes flicking over to Zee's wave and giving a soft wave back. The medic sulks for a little bit, then sighs. "Let's just get something to eat. Maxson needs food, I've run through a bit of my energy healing... And you need to sober up." There is a mild bit of a mommy nag tone to it, but it's clear that the healer isn't intending to push Rein away from the table, at least not yet.

Reuma pauses for a moment to look over at Maxson, then sips from the water, before standing and brushing herself off a little, and walking over to order some food. "I got some stew for you Maxson, more than just the broth but you need to go easy on your stomach. If you are feeling ok, I'll share some of my lamb pie. I didn't know what to order our treasure hunter friend, but hopefully he'll find something with more substance than mead.... At least if he still wants to stay." The healer sighs tiredly. "A few treasure tales spun by the fire might actually hit the spot and get my.... our minds off of things." Reuma corrects herself, and puts a reassuring hand on Maxson's shoulder.

[Reinholdt]

[New Beginning]

Reinholdt glances between the two. There's clearly a much deeper history here. One that would drive someone to make emotional healing decisions about what they can and can't handle. But that's all fine. He can respect all that. Probably even leave them to it. He can handle a little flash of anger by a cute antlered face and a midriff flash in exchange. The scars told a tale, but it only seemed to enhance the sight. Fortunately Maxson manages to talk some sense into Reuma.

Before thanking even Reinholdt. What. The hell? What does he mean by even him? When you thank a person, you just thank the person! You don't make it sound like you wished you were doing anything else or thanking anyone else, but you gotta so 'thanks'. And if that weren't bad enough, Reuma swings in with the follow up punch, daring, DARING to suggest he needs to sober up. He needs to get drunk first, then maybe he'll consider it! He's helped a fair share of newcomers before but, he's never met a pair that's gotten under his skin like these two.

Narrowed eyes glance back and force with a forced smile. "I only share my treasure stories with friends. Secrets of the trade and all that. You understand, I hope." Reinholdt has never once before turned down an opportunity to regal his stories to anyone who would listen. But he sits down nearby all the same, pointedly pulling out a flask and taking a sip while staring right at Reuma, challenging her. "So to business. If you're asking the question about whether there's an easy way back, the short answer is there's not. Only those who already know how to get back can usually get back. Like discovering your own personal shortcut. Once you do, you can lead anyone through it easily and give them directions. Until a way can be figured out, you're looking a planar maze. I can't speak to what either of you might have left behind, but... well, there are cautionary stories of those who obsess too much about returning for the rest of their lives. I'm sorry," Reinholdt tells them with genuine empathy for their losses, while also motioning for the fish meal he had been working on to be brought over.

It smells.

[Morty]

The door to Trog's opens and in strides a figure whose presence seems to precede it by a step or two. A tall, towering man draped in a green cloak held by a bright steel clasp, with a hood covering his face. Throwing back the hood, he reveals a weather-worn face with dark grey hair streaked with silver, green eyes and a silvery tattoo that encircles his left eye in a concentrated pattern. He has a long beard, tied into a neat braid. In his right hand is a spear of thick greyish white wood, tipped with silvery metal that glistens in a different color from every angle. The man surveys the room silently before heading for a table, his steps resonating throughout the building.

[Rebonack]

[Dungeon of Doom]

"I know what you mean," Fenris sighs. "I spent a number of years in Cyrodiil. I had the opportunity to witness first hand the destruction the Thalmor had caused. I don't believe many of my countrymen really understand just how terrible the war was."

Pretty darn terrible.

"Still, former Thalmor. He witnessed first hand their atrocities and it gave him pause."

That, Fenris believes, is certainly worth something.

So!

Door.

The door creaks open before long, revealing a long, wide chamber with a beam of light filtering down through the ceiling and illuminating a rather complex looking mechanical contraction. Something designed to... focus it. Split it, maybe? The walls are covered in astronomical charts and diagrams. On the opposite side of the room is another door. A door with a cleverly hidden mechanism that will trigger some kind of trap if it is opened improperly

Fenris isn't paying any attention to that, though.

She's looking at-

"This is all astrological equipment," she says, moving to examine the device that takes up most of the room in closer detail.

At the locus, the point at which the light is all focused, sits a glass sphere with an inert chunk of ghostly blue crystal in it.

[bc56]

Dungeon of Doom
"Reminds me of that machine in the tower of Mzark," Orathius comments. Fenris probably knows the one, it was a puzzle lock meant to store an Elder Scroll. "Much smaller though." He looks around, silently crossing the room to the door. Clever mechanisms are his bread and butter. "Door's trapped, but let's get this figured out before we deal with it."

[ResidentScribe]

[New beginning]

Maxson's eyes widened at Reuma flashing her Navel, there was a flash of colour across his face as stray memories of lost nights played in his mind. He casually looked away hoping she didn't recognise that look on him. As she mentioned grabbing food he slowly swung his legs down off the booth seat and let his feet slowly rest on the ground. After picking up his vest and other discarded pieces of gear, he sat back and checked every piece over. His rifle was filthy but otherwise seemed functional, same for his side arm. The Optic on top was smashed however, at least his two axes were still intact.

As Reuma was away getting food, he looked at Rein "Suppose it was pretty stupid of me... thinking I was dead" He said aloud before checking the edge of one of his axe blades. "No way I'd be fortunate enough to end up in the same place as her" He chuckled before clipping the axe back into its holster. "No going back though... suppose there's nothing really left there for me anyway, she's gone... Signe... might as well make the most of this place" He seemed to accept what was going on but there was clearly a guilt or something eating away at him.

[Rebonack]

Oh hey a newcomer!

Zee approaches the table of the tall dire looking guy.

Are dire humans a thing?

Like how there are dire wolves and dire bears and dire elk?

This guy definitely looks pretty dire.

"Well howdy! Welcome to Trog's Tavern!" the completely normal human female (you suspect nothing) says, all smiles and sunshine.

If there are dire humans Zee is definitely the opposite of that. What's the opposite of dire, anyway? Unalarming? Bright and sunshine-y? Zee's those things, certainly. All smiles and pleasantness. That air of vivacious kindness and hospitality she exudes is almost contagious, though whether it'll have an impact on that slab of a dude remains to be seen.

"I'm Zee and I'll be taking your order. Would you like to hear about our special meal of the day?"


[Dungeons of Doom]

Meanwhile, in the inexplicable dungeon in the tavern's wine-cellar!

Strictly speaking the mechanism in the tower wasn't meant to lock away the scroll. The focusing mechanism also served other arcane purposes.

But that's neither here nor there.

"Well, there's no elder scroll at its focus. I believe that's a good thing," Fenris observes as she eyes the inert crystal at the machine's heart. "The focusing mechanism appears to be disengaged for the time being. And I suspect its effect may depend on precisely where in aetherius is gathers its light from. But all these blasted notes-"

She picks up one of the books in disgust and to her surprise finds the text comprehensible this time.

"Oh. Hmm. This one isn't in a cypher. It appears to be an experimental log? The astrologer has discovered a way to rapidly charge sky shards in a fashion not unlike welkynd stones," Fenris says as she flips through the pages. "He apparently discovered that some starlight is aware and has strongly transmutive properties."

Spooky.

[bc56]

Dungeons of Doom
"Well then. Let's make sure this astrologer doesn't get to continue his research." Orathius conjures up a battleaxe and swings it at the mechanisms, once, twice, three times. His goal is to break it enough to be nonfunctional, so he'll keep swinging until the device looks thoroughly destroyed.

[Rebonack]

[Dungeons of Doom]

Oh.

Oh that hurts to watch.

Fenris does her best not to wince in pain as the no doubt extremely expensive astrological equipment is utterly ruined. Whatever experiment it was being used to carry out it'll likely never be able to do again. She's trying really hard not to think about how this equipment might be irreplaceable and the knowledge it could have gained lost forever.

As Orathius is wholloping on the machine there's a clicking sound from the door nearby moments before someone comes through.

Or, rather, something.

Some sort of horrible flesh golem.

"No break!" it bellows before trying to clobber Orathius with one of its club-like arms. "No break!"

[bc56]

Dungeons of Doom
That's how you can tell Orathius is a thief and Fenris is a wizard. He has no regard for the intellectual value of things or other people's property.
"You seem more likely to cause damage than I do," he quips, raising his unusual Dwemer shield. A shimmering field of magic springs up in front of it, but naturally the blows pass right through to hit the surface of the shield, which looks too fragile to withstand the attack the way it does.

[Morty]

Oh hey a newcomer!

Zee approaches the table of the tall dire looking guy.

Are dire humans a thing?

Like how there are dire wolves and dire bears and dire elk?

This guy definitely looks pretty dire.

"Well howdy! Welcome to Trog's Tavern!" the completely normal human female (you suspect nothing) says, all smiles and sunshine.

If there are dire humans Zee is definitely the opposite of that. What's the opposite of dire, anyway? Unalarming? Bright and sunshine-y? Zee's those things, certainly. All smiles and pleasantness. That air of vivacious kindness and hospitality she exudes is almost contagious, though whether it'll have an impact on that slab of a dude remains to be seen.

"I'm Zee and I'll be taking your order. Would you like to hear about our special meal of the day?"

Zee might get the distinct impression that this man sees more of her than she lets on. But he nods politely.

"I believe I would. It's not a custom I am familiar with."

[Rebonack]

Seeing more of her?

Well.

That's an unusual skill.

And given that the newcomer isn't responding to these visions with terror and awe, Zee can guess at why. There aren't many people equipped to gaze on other and emerge unscathed. Especially not such people who also like wearing nice shiny silver tattoos.

Zee suspects she knows what this newcomer might be, but she isn't certain.

As for the glimpse?

Something like a dragon coiled in on itself. Something like a deer, antlers branching like the boughs of a great tree. Something like a great canopy of wings? leaves? branches? feathers? Something full of eyes around and within, deep black of stellar darkness. Something that shines like polished glass and burns like a star. Something that endures, that strengthens, that withstands. Something that devours hopes and dreams and fills them with itself until naught else remains. A gesture. A word. A warning. Do not gaze too closely; I wear flesh for a reason, the vision says. I am not safe to behold.

"I'll try to resist the urge to make up more customs on the spot," Zee replies with a laugh. "Today's special is a personal pan pizza! Which, you probably don't know what that is, huh? It's like this round flatbread with sauce and toppings and stuff on it. They're really good! Especially since there's a portal to the paraelemental plane of cheese in our mini-fridge. Good cheese is probably the most important part of a good pizza."


[Dungeons of Doom]

Fenris regards the value of equipment for gaining new knowledge quite a bit.

That poor, poor wizard.

"No break!" the golem repeats again, smashing its limbs over and over again into the shield until-!

Fenris casts telekinesis with both hands, seizing the golem and pinning it against the ceiling.

"I must say I do not particularly approve of the creatures this astrologer employs."

[bc56]

Dungeon of Doom
"Strange choices for sure. Why not some nice, quiet shades? That's much more traditional." Not that it really matters. "I doubt that thing could disarm the trap on the door, so our mysterious adversary must have let it in. We must be close."

[Morty]

Seeing more of her?

Well.

That's an unusual skill.

And given that the newcomer isn't responding to these visions with terror and awe, Zee can guess at why. There aren't many people equipped to gaze on other and emerge unscathed. Especially not such people who also like wearing nice shiny silver tattoos.

Zee suspects she knows what this newcomer might be, but she isn't certain.

As for the glimpse?

Something like a dragon coiled in on itself. Something like a deer, antlers branching like the boughs of a great tree. Something like a great canopy of wings? leaves? branches? feathers? Something full of eyes around and within, deep black of stellar darkness. Something that shines like polished glass and burns like a star. Something that endures, that strengthens, that withstands. Something that devours hopes and dreams and fills them with itself until naught else remains. A gesture. A word. A warning. Do not gaze too closely; I wear flesh for a reason, the vision says. I am not safe to behold.

"I'll try to resist the urge to make up more customs on the spot," Zee replies with a laugh. "Today's special is a personal pan pizza! Which, you probably don't know what that is, huh? It's like this round flatbread with sauce and toppings and stuff on it. They're really good! Especially since there's a portal to the paraelemental plane of cheese in our mini-fridge. Good cheese is probably the most important part of a good pizza."

The man's eyes narrow and he almost takes a step back. What in the gods' names... he's never seen anything remotely like this. Instead he gives a short, courteous bow.

"I have indeed not heard of this dish before. But I will gladly try it. My name is Askeladd. A newcomer to this land, as you have already guessed."

Upon closer inspection, Zee will notice one more thing: this man's shadow doesn't quite match him. For one thing, it has antlers. Secondly, it's much more lanky and thin than he is.

[Rebonack]

Yeah.

That's more or less the reaction Zee is accustomed to.

There's a reason why the opening phrase is 'Do not be afraid'.

Which is why the meat pajamas are so important! That way she can chat with people without having to make proclamations. Most never even notice.

So!

Hm hm hm! A shadow with antlers, huh? That's more evidence piling up to support her suspicion.

"Sure thing, I'll get it started for you. Now, the important thing about a pizza are the toppings. The cheese and the sauce are basically a given. But for everything else? Sky's the limit! Meats are pretty common. Vegetables, too. And some absolute anarchists even like garnishing their pizza with fruit. So! What would you prefer? You want to pick your own toppings or should I surprise you?"

Are surprises from such a being really a wise thing to receive?


[Dungeon of Doom]

"There are some advanced alterations for holding portals that can be keyed to respond to specific individuals. Though whether the astrologer here is using such magics is neither here nor there," Fenris replies as she whollops the flesh golem into the ground forcefully, stunning it in the process.

With the creature dazed Orathius could probably finish it off without too much trouble.

Or they could just hurry through the door and Fenris could seal it behind them.