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Post by Helion on Jan 15, 2017 3:42:58 GMT
The fool wandered the bustling streets of Ashdell. He was to make an appearance at none other than Fish Stank Inn. Where the girls were cheaper than the meals. Or, at least so the jester had heard. It wasn't the highest point in his career, but still they would give him board in exchange for his performance. So, he bounced and bumbled his way through the streets until finally he found his desired location. He entered the inn with a jingle of his bells and a tip of his puppet.
“G’day my lady!” The puppet said to the greeting wench in his shrill voice. The whore simply giggled and shooed the fool through the door. He entered the dimly lit bar and several different smells burned his nostrils. Not a one of them pleasant. As he stepped across the floor he felt a hundred different stains stick to his boots. The fool suspected the floor was one ingredient away from gaining sentience. Still, he had a job to do.
He stepped atop the stage and bowed to the crowd.
“Get on with it!” someone jeered at the fool.
“How rude! I’m trying to look at things from your point of view, but I can't get my head that far up my ass you gob knobber!” The fool cried out and was met with a symphony of laughter. He bowed again and smiled beneath his fauxian mask. Mid bow his puppet spoke. “I beg to differ! You and the lot of this room live up your arse’s!” Helion quickly righted himself and covered the pupets mouth. “Quiet you!” He whispered and the puppet bit him in turn. “Owe!”
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Post by Tanomas Graf on Jan 15, 2017 23:46:05 GMT
With the trot of his horse, the aged knight made his way down the road towards Ashdell. Along it he observed several carts moving in and out of the town, each of their owners giving a look of disgust at the old man. He knew exactly what it was, he was a reminder of the Empire that had been felled, the one that had oppressed and destroyed so many other cultures. It was a wonder that he wasn't hunted down and killed after the peasant uprising. Graf let his thoughts trail once he approached the local inn, according to the sign hanging over the entrance it was called the 'Fish Stank Inn'. The old man hoped that the name wasn't literal.
Tanomas dismounted his horse and tethered him in a nearby stable, knowing that he would be able to fend off thieving rogues with a simple kick to their torso, as he had done during the battles so long ago. The knight's chainmail clanked together while he entered the inn, unfortunately subjected to the hundreds of interesting smells withing. According to the loud laughter and some idiot dressed up as a jester, someone was doing a showing.
Ordering a mug of beer, he sat and watched while he drank.
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Post by Helion on Jan 16, 2017 1:50:05 GMT
Helion ripped his finger free from the blasted puppet and stuck it in his mouth. The crowd erupted in laughter once more and the jester simply smiled. But, to the puppet he whispered vehemently “Fuckstockings you little twat, you’re lucky I don't throw you in the fire,” The puppet merely smiled with the face he was carved.
“Tell another joke!” A man jeered from the crowd.
“A smoke? Why I know many smoke tricks!” The fool said as he withdrew his pipe. He loaded it full of cheap tabacc and with the snap of a thumb it lit itself. He inhaled deeply and when he finally exhaled a dancing lady took up the stage. The crowd applauded the fools trick, but the puppet said otherwise. “He said joke you nincompoop, sometimes I wonder who's the dummy. Me or you,” It finished in its shrill voice. This gained a few chuckles much to the joker's irritation.
Then the trickster spotted an old knight sitting by the bar. The perfect answer to his problems. He made a grand bow and dismounted from the stage. He made his way through the now smoke filled room and approached the bar. “An ale for me and the old fucker over there!” The jester cried out to the serving wench. The jester wrapped an arm around the old man then spoke again.
“My liege I believe I may be in need of your services,”
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Post by Mirielle Merlon on Jan 18, 2017 19:30:51 GMT
Helion Tanomas Graf Breenhin MhaoilanProstitution was more or less legal in Ashdell; slavery was not; and the two often tended to blur into each other. Ashdell had learned that lesson the hard way a good eight or nine years back, in the aftermath of the Mapheri Dynasty's fall. Some regions had suffered, others had suffered less and profited, and a steady flow of the coerced had connected the former to the latter. The flows had ebbed since then, but you still got de facto slave traders coming through, bringing girls who might have come along of their own accord, or might not have known what they were in for, or might have fallen anywhere on a spectrum of willing versus unwilling participation. The average layman john couldn't tell the difference and often didn't care. But every now and again, a girl would take her life in her hands and slip a note to the right person. Like, for example, a guard who had no problem soliciting affection. A guard who didn't think too highly of the idea that he might have been visiting the unconsenting without his knowledge. BAM went the hooves of an adult male centaur on the door, and the latch burst irreparably. Human and halfling guards stormed inside, wielding flexible truncheons and canes. They saved their strikes for the proprietors, unruly patrons, and so forth. The girls themselves, some of whom might be victims in this situation, were left largely alone, though the guards aimed to corral them in one corner of the inn's main room. Naturally, the inn-slash-brothel descended into cacophony.
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Post by Breenhin Mhaoilan on Jan 18, 2017 21:15:49 GMT
Helion Mirielle Merlon Tanomas GrafThe rising tide of corruption continued to break upon the eastern shores of the Spiritwood, but for the time being, things were calm. Still, it was clear to all involved that the time for isolationism was at an end - that didn't mean he was here to enter into treaties, or establish alliances. But someone should know what lay in the forest, finally, to set an end to the centuries old rumors and myths. The white and scarlet knight strode down a dirt path towards what appeared to be a sizable town, a pair of Grove Wardens at his back. It was quite clear they were more heavily armed and armored than your usual passers-by, and his peculiar ensemble elicited more than a few wayward glances. Their response was always a sharp glare that sent wandering eyes straight to the dirt, as hurried feet made to get moving. He look and smelled like trouble, though if he actually was, it remained to be seen. Ahead, an armed group of individuals used a centaur's hooves to batter down a door, and he raised a brow before striding down the thoroughfare to the front of the... whatever the place was, actually. Nothing like this existed in the Spiritwood, and it was quite clear immediately from the state of undress among the womenfolk they'd been participating in some distinctly lewd activities. Some equally disheveled men said they'd been the other carousing party in whatever had been going on. It was then he was struck by something, something that he hoped wasn't true. With his pair of Wardens at his pack, and his peculiar armor, he looked every bit the justicar bringing the Law into a haven of Criminals, seeing as they were all now presently blocking the door. So he didn't say anything to draw attention to himself, and just tried to puzzle out what sort of place this was.
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