Bar Talk
Tenebrae - Sunday, November 18, 2012, 9:36 AM
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* A06: Ox-Strength Tavern *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
The Ox-Strength Ale Tavern is known for being one of the most dangerous dives in the city. Frequented by the worst sailors, mercenaries, thugs and looters, the place is hardly the prettiest nor the tidiest of taverns, though--of late, that has been changing. Locals claim the once foul-tasting food "No longer burns the stomach--as much, anyways." Plates show signs of repair instead of cracks, though the still infamous odor of old beer and stale sweat insists on hanging about the place, and the smell of brine is near-constant.
What used to be bricked-up windows have been somewhat opened. Heavy bars let in a reluctant breeze and prevent the clanging of heads against glass (which seems nearly afraid to exist). Bloodstains adorn both the nearby walls and the bricks themselves from thrown patrons and fists.
The lights are dim, a few oil lamps hung from hooks in the splintered ceiling beams. A smattering of tables, scratched and carved into by many a blade, dot the expanse of the floor. Most of the tables are arranged in a wide circle to give plenty of room in the center of the bar for hasty escapes or the routine bar-brawl or fight. A worn-out steam piped stove sometimes provides warmth to the tavern. Occasionally an aging dog of some mangy breed or another can be seen sleeping near the stove or by the bar itself. Overhead the fireplace is a tribute to Rada, the patron of fishermen and rivermen everywhere.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-- Contents --=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Kaedin Excitable and Charismatic An Lucht Siuils 20s 1h Angrid A red-bearded, muscular dwarf in heavy armor 0s 39m Mikilos Tall male dawn elf, rosey blonde and handsome. 0s 1h
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= Exits -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Usual, one would find a crafty Rogue sitting in a dark corner, looking to plot his next caper. Kaedin is not your average Rogue, and the little Halfling is actualy sitting with his back against the bar, pipe held and a rather happy, friendly smile on his face, easly seen as the hood of his cloak is drawn back. A empty Pint of what used to hold Ale rests behind him, and even though he is sitting, he is hardly still. The Ox may be a tough place, but there are people in the world that don't fear such taverns -- mostly because they're tough customers themselves. Angrid smoothly pushes the door open, the dwarf striding in easily, heavy boots thudding on the floor as he approaches the bar. Closer, he looks downright... well, -scrubbed- is a good phrase for it. His beard and hair are still damp, and his bushy brows are furrowed as he rumbles, "A dram of spirits, friend." Sliding a couple coins across, as the heavyset khazadi sits down on one of the stools, wearily rubbing his face.
Mikilos is not usual by any standard, and certainly not the usual patron of a seedy bar. Then again, the Ox isn't your usual seedy bar, so perhaps it balences out. Regardless, the elf makes his way inside,
pausing a monet by the door for his eyes to adjust before heading for the bar proper, nodding politely to the pair of height-challenged individuals there. "Barkeep; any of that Tooth-Melt chili today?"
Kaedin blinks as he notices the two nercommers. An elf asking for chili, and a clean Dwarf, now his interest is peaked. He nods to the elf, and looks over at the weary Dwarf. "You look tierd Friend, somthing giving you trouble?" he asks with a smile, he knows he should eventualy start looking for work, but he doesnt know if his particular profession would be needed anytime soon.
Angrid receives his dwarf liquor with surprising haste, and turns to regard Kaedin with wry amusement. "Not really, laddie. I've just been through the forge-fires a day or two ago. If someone from the Adventurer's Guild offers ye a job traipsing through the sewers? Turn it down, or at least insist on a lot of money up front. Ye'll need it for the laundry and cleaning expenses." He takes a drink, shaking his head. "Now I know how a sword might feel when ye strip the rust off with potions and wire brushes."
Azog has arrived.
Mikilos tsks in mild disapoint at the lack of chili today, and settles for a cup of fruity wine. "Mmm, good bit of magic can clean you right up. Quick, easy, and doesn't even have to be of a powerful sort."
Kaedin blinks and tilts his head. "Everyone has a price, granted somtimes that price might be far fetched, but you can get anyone to do anything if the price is right.' he says with a smile as he takes a puff on his pipe. "Shineys tend to do the job though."
Angrid shakes his head at Mikilos. "We started with that, but the stink was still clinging to us. Plus it never quite feels like ye've cleaned properly -- half the time a spell misses the sweat that's sticking to ye." He shrugs. "So, a cake of soap and a lot of elbow grease. At least I don't smell like an outhouse occupied by a dead cow now."
An orc walks into a bar, heads over to his old friend Mikilos. "Good afternoon," Azog says in accented Tradespeak. "A halfling, an elf, and a dwarf sit in a bar. This sound like the beginning of a humorous story." From his tone, he doesn't get the joke. He doesn't get -any- jokes. Though he peers at Angrid and wrinkles his nose. "You don't even smell like dwarf so much as you might." He says this as if it were a welcome change.
Mikilos snorts in mild amusement and grins, raising his glass in greeting to Azog. "Quite admit, being clean and feeling clean are two distinct things. And admit is a bit diffrent when you don't run the spell yourself. But suppose could be worse, could have to live down in the sewers for a few months."
Kaedin blinks a the huge orc and tilts his head. "That did they feed you?" he asks before he takes another puff of his pipe and looks around abit, figiting because he is slowly finding hismelf wanting to do somthing dangerous and fun.
Angrid lifts one bushy eyebrow at Azog. "You know, don't humans have some saying about pots and kettles?" He shakes his head, finishing his drink. "In any case, I can't imagine -living- in there. I think the stink alone would drive me mad." He fishes around in his pockets before removing a larger pipe, starting to fill it with pipeweed. "My point still stands though. Don't let them offer you a small fee for going down there. I honestly thought a couple of my fellow adventurers were going to pass out from the stench."
Azog snorts at Mikilos's comment about being clean, "What you call clean takes away a lot of the ... the things that tell you about another person. The smell of fear, the smell of friendship, the smell of fighting." Kaedin gets a puzzled look. "Not yet." But he pulls over a chair to the table and calls over a server to rectify the situation. He simply orders, 'Food', and takes his chances with what will be brought out. Angrid's comment draws a derisive smirk, and he replies, "Only a human can't tell a dwarf's stink from an ork's." He eyes Mikilos and Kaedin, "Well, probably not just humans, at that." Listening to a bit more of the tale, he guesses, "The guild had you down in the sewers again?" To Mikilos, he says, "At what point will you wizards develop a spell to make the air in an area breathable? That would go a long way towards people not passing out and dying down there." Of course then it'd be occupied by a lot more people.
Mikilos shrugs lightly. "there are such spells. Various ways to go about it. Trouble being most require a fair bit of power and thus a bit of expense. Besides, sewers stink. Is part of what makes them sewers. Without the stink, they'd just be wet tunnels of brick and mortar."
Kaedin chabnges the subject, because talking about stink and sewers isn't very fun. "Anyone know someone who can add modifications to a crossbow?" he says with a smile. "I should learn to snipe with it, would be a neat think to know in a pinch."
Angrid shrugs at Azog. "They keep having problems with blockages. It's rather funny, really -- they think it's cheaper to keep hiring adventurers to clear them out rather than hire on some good architects and engineers to rebuild the damn things. It's a complete mess down there." He shakes his head, beard wagging as he lights his pipe. Looking at Kaedin, he hrms. "I think there's a crossbowyer in the trade mission from Khazad-Duin. Ye might ask there -- but bring your money pouch."
Azog ehs to Mikilos, and says, "Nothing wrong with being wet tunnels of brick and mortar. You say 'the sewers' like it's some famous and wonderful thing. It's just a place to dump the city's crap because dumping it well outside the circle of tents, er, walls would require you to walk 2 hours each way. It'd be good if you did, though, the farmer's would probably be happier." He squints at Kaedin and asks, "Modify? To snipe," and he says 'snipe' with a flat look of disapproval, "you just point it at someone from a long way away when they're not expecting it and shoot them, yes? The rest is skill." He eyes Mikilos. "Or else magic." He nods to Angrid, agreeing completely. "It's not a solution. Though I suppose it provides a steady ongoing challenge for the Explorers' Guild."
Mikilos shrugs. "They did rebuild a fair bit of the sewers not too long ago. Was even worse before. And yes, the crap is where the sink comes in." Ponderinga moment he turns focus towards Kaedin. "What exactly did you have in mind? I work more with blades, but might be able to do something with a crossbow."
Kaedin takes out his crossbow, which was sling over his back. it's a heavy crossbow, thoug hsized for his smaler build. "A way to loadf it quicker, though I guess darts that explode would be nice too." he says with a smirk. "Everyone likes stuff being blown up." Though he is thinking he might have to find a gnome or a gobber if he wants to blow stuff up with a weapon.
Angrid hmms thoughtfully. "When I was younger some of the Kingsforge guards used a kind of crossbow that fed bolts from a small box mounted on top or below. You recocked and slotted a new bolt using the same lever. Unfortunately, it takes time to reload once the box is empty."
Azog tries to imagine the sewers being worse and wrinkles his nose. He shakes his head at Kaedin's comments about the crossbow, and turns to the server as his food arrives. A bowl of stew and hunk of bread, and Azog looks pleased with this. He looks over curiously as Angrid describes the strange device, masticating noisily but saying nothing. This is probably just as well.
Mikilos nods thoughfully. "I've seen designs like that, but I'm not overly familiar with their mechanics. I think would need to just get a new bow made for such things, as trying to retro-fit might prove impossible. Special bolts I could do, but really think enhancing the bow itself is the better call in the long term. Ten years from now, the bolts would likely be long gone, but the bow still work just fine."
Kaedin smiles and nods. "Well, some people prefer an actual bow, but when you are in a place where pulling back might be ap roblem, a trigger is much more handy, but six or even eight ready bolts to fire one after the other is better then a single one." he says with a nod as he re holsters his crossbow and moves his cloak to cover it.
Angrid grins at Kaedin. "Precisely my point. Bows are all well and good if you have the elbow room, but in tight quarters, a crossbow is a lot more effective. Slower to load, but easier to learn -- which, of course, annoys armored bandits to no end, since a peasant with a crossbow can hurt them badly." He sighs in mock philosophical sadness. "Ah well, such is life."
Azog eats his stew as Mikilos's discussion goes awaaaaaaay over his head. Kaedin's reply, though, draws a derisive smirk, and he says, "A sword never runs out of ammunition. Mark that." He nods slowly at Angrid's insight, "This is true. If you can afford to arm your farmers with crossbows, they can be an effective fighting force. Until the bandits kill them and take their crossbows."
Mikilos nods. "I favor a good lightning bolt over any of the above, but admit a certain level of bias. In arming farmers, I'd recomend a spear. Cheap and easy to make, effective againt even an armored foe if used properly, espically in number, and the basics of it's use can be learned rather quickly."
Kaedin smiles and taps the sickle, and the shortsword at his belt. "You say that like the bandits are skilled? Most are general thugs, and if they don;t see me, well, it's the last thing they don't see, ever." He says with a smile, agreeing with Angrid about the use of a crossbow. He look to Mikilos and tilts his head. "A spear would be good in an open fight, but again, when you have to stay hidden, it's to long to do that effectivly."
Angrid shakes his head at Azog. "Yer culture is showin' again, laddie. Aye, the sword and axe will fight as long as the arm that swings it has strength. But arrows and bolts can strike ye before ye even get within swinging range. Ye have to plan, and pick your battles carefully -- or ye might as well not have shown up at all."
Azog nods at what Mikilos says, though he adds, "The advantage of a spear is that you can also hunt with it." He smirks at Kaedin, shaking his head. "Hiding with a spear is little different than hiding with a small weapon. You just have to know the way of it." He nods grudgingly to Angrid, "This is true. But I carry a huge shield to deal with those."
Mikilos nods, and shrugs to Kaedin. "Spear or no, I don't think a mottley mob of farmers would do too well hiding from some bandits. But for an adventurer sneaking up on said bandits, yes a spear would likely not be the weapon of choice."
Kaedin smiles. "I remeber one time there was a bandit problem, some hamlet or another, and they had a wizard with them, I got a good pile of gold for sneaking in, taking the wizards stuff, and sneaking out so the local milita could go in and clean house." he says with a smirk. "It's my thing, and I love doing it."
Angrid chortles at Kaedin's tale. "Ah, now that's usin' ye noggin," he grins, puffing on his pipe. "There's all sorts of ways ye can spike someone's wheels and make them easier pickings. It's why kobolds are such a damn nuisance; traps and nasty tricks are second nature to the little bastards, and what should be easy work turns into a nightmare as ye wind up having to check three times to make sure they're not going to sucker you."
Azog smirks about farmers hiding with spear, and says, "We're mixing up two or three different ideas, I think." Kaedin gets a shake of the head and he says, "I suppose we each have our ways of dealing with problems." He nods gravely to Angrid about kobolds. "They have no honor," he says with a frown. "But that does not mean they are not a challenge."
Mikilos frowns thoughtfully. "Kobolds have honor. A particular sort which bears little to the honor of others, but they do have it. As a collective whole I mean, one individual kobold can do whatever the
heck he or she cares, regardless of the general trend."
Kaedin giggles evily. "Thats why you move their traps on them, a few re rigs, sabotaging a lock so the key doesnt work anymore, and a smoke pellet or three and you and a group of people willing to clear out the little pests and they are short work, you just have to make sure you are a step ahead and can think quick enough."
Angrid hehs. "Once we had an influx of the little buggers in Dun-Mordren. They'd broken into some unused lower galleries, and it was going to be a pain to push them out. But they'd come in near one of our deep cisterns, one we weren't using at the time, so we flushed them out -- literally -- by flooding those corridors." His beard twitches. "A little unfair, but we HAD offered them parley -- and they responded with poisoned darts. Maybe next time they'll learn the value of being polite."
Azog laughs derisively at Mikilos. "That is like saying that they have a /height/ that bears no resemblance to the height of others. Because they can stand on each others' shoulders or somesuch. That," he says, "is not 'honor' of any kind. Determination, effort, industriousness, these are all good qualities, but they are not the same as honor." Kaedin's comments get a puzzled frown. "That may work for you. For me, I walk in, avoid the spears, step around the traps, walk through the smoke, and cut them in half where they stand." He nods slowly at Angrid's story. "They're buggers for poison and that's a fact. Well flushed."
Mikilos nods to Angrid. "Long while back was with a party beset by kobold bandits. We tried to parly. They shot darts. The Dran of the group turned the kobold leader into a pink spray. the other kobolds suddenly became very diplomatic."
Angrid tsks. "Sometimes they learn, sometimes they don't." He blows a smoke ring. "In the meantime, I've an appointment with a tailor. I had to burn my undergarments after that little foray in the sewers, and I'm going to need some new ones to wear under my armor. Until again, lads." He slips off his stool, and ambles out.
Angrid has disconnected.
Kaedin waves the Angrid and moves to stand as well. "I got a few things to take care of myself, if anyone inquires about a sneak, send them my way eh? names kaedin." he says as he tosses some coin on the countertop and makes his way out.
Azog agrees with Mikilos. "They understand when they are beset and can sometimes be coerced by force. But they generally do not keep their word beyond your sight." He winces sympathetically to Angrid. "I've learned you need to wear proper clothing under your armor or you wind up worse for wearing it than going without." He nods to Kaedin, "Azog, of the Lightning Maul tribe."
Mikilos grins, and twists one hand into a fist, arcane power crackeling between his fingertips as his eyes glow with magical light. "Wizard. My sight is wherever I wish it to be, so they dare not betray." a spark, a flicker, and the magic fades out with a frown of mild disapointment. "Or so I try to convince them. Scrying is actaully a bit of work."
Kaedin has disconnected.
Azog shakes his head wryly at the show of power, then the admission of its limits. "My power is as far as I can swing my sword, but it sounds like yours does not extend so much farther after all. How many of those who have surrendered to you, do you keep tabs on? Do you spend all your time scrying on their actions? Do you follow up on your treaties and agreements?" He shrugs. "This is why I prefer to only accept surrender from those who I believe will honor the terms."
Mikilos waves vaugely. "By force I do not forge treaties intended to last for long. Usually just long enough to assure the party can get back to the relitive safety of a town or inn and recover. The reach of my power is a little further, a little more versitle. But I admit is not as efficant."
Azog nods slowly. "Perhaps that is wise. It is hard to stop fighting once it has started. And some, on seeing an advantage, are quick to break the terms if they think they can pull victory out of it."
Mikilos nods, and ponders a moment. "There's something to both sides of it. Terms made in good faith should be kept. But terms reached underduress are something diffrent."
Azog ehs? "/All/ terms are reached under duress. If you kill a kobold's leader in a spray of blood, it is not good faith which the other kobolds treat with you. If terms are forced on you because you are not strong enough to have your own say, then honor demands that you obey the terms that are forced on you, or challenge whoever set the terms if you think you can win back your freedom. But ignoring something you agreed to," he shakes his head slowly, a distasteful expression on his lips. "That is honorless."
Mikilos frowns a moment, and shakes his head. "Perhaps we're not using the word the same way. I could, in example, reach terms with the local bakers, keeping his stove lit with mystic fire in exchange for a daily loaf of bread. Terms are reached in full accord, with no duress upon either party."
Azog looks puzzled for a moment, then rolls his eyes. "We had been talking about forcing terms of surrender on kobolds and others without honor," he says. "And you had said that terms made in good faith should be kept. And then about terms in a war, where both parties agree to the terms because otherwise, one side will kill the other. Now we are talking about bakers?" He takes a bite of stew. chews thoughtfully. "Or are you in a war with bakers?"
Mikilos shrugs. "If I am, it's news to me. The example was fictitious and extreem. Two sides of a war may be equally weary and not wish to continue bloodshed. Both are now willing to enter diplomatic parlay, with neither the stronger over the other. It's also possible for one side to clearly be the stornger, but wish only peace, and thus place the weaker side under no duress as terms are reached. I'm not saying these are normal cases, only possible ones."
Azog rubs his scalp with his hands, but nods slowly. "These are all possible cases. But it is equally possible that an Explorers' Guild party is fighting kobolds and the kobolds beg to parlay because they don't want to die. How then is their agreement less binding than one between bakers and farmers?"
Mikilos shrugs. "Because farmers and bakers are not fearing for their lives when making their agreements. I think the point we're both trying to make here is that the average kobold has no honor. I just wish to be clear that not all kobolds are average."
Azog shakes his head. "I never said everyone of any sort was average, or that all kobolds never act in good faith. Though I haven't seen it myself, I will not claim it can't happen. It sounds like you are saying, though, that a truce made on the field of battle is not binding on both sides."
Mikilos says, "Depends on the battle, and on the sides. Met a kobold paladin of Deus once. Smallest little broadsword I ever saw."
Azog looks surprised, but not displeased. "That's a ray of hope for kobolds. And good on him for rising above his brethren to do good." But then he sours. "But how can you say that only some agreements are binding? Who gets to decide if terms are binding? Can I decide that I was defeated in a battle, and therefore what I agreed to is not binding? I would forfeit honor."
Mikilos nods. "And in doing so the agreement would not bind you. They would just be so many words of meaningless air. If one side does not have honor, the terms are only an illusion. One under duress does not have honor, only fear."
Azog scowls fiercely, and shakes his head, thumping his fist on the table enough to make his bowl of stew jump. "Bah, I should know better than to discuss honor with an elf. You can never /take my honor/, even should you defeat me," he growls, "even if you hold me in duress. You do not understand at all, if you think that to lose is to lose all honor. But if I agree to terms, then I have agreed. If the result of not accepting terms is death, then I can accept the terms with honor, or I accept death with honor. But if I have accepted them, then they are binding."
Mikilos nods, taking no insult. "YOU accept them. YOU have honor. Another may not, and thus would not be bound by the terms. Breaking the terms brings a loss of honor,but they have no honor to loose, and thus break terms as it suits them."
Azog looks puzzled now, as Mikilos explains his reasoning, and he realizes belatedly that no insult was meant to him. He cools a bit, now striving to understand. "How does lack of honor absolve you from an agreement entered into? You may as well say that your baker can choose to have no honor, and no longer give you bread in exchange for your gift of magic."
Mikilos nods. "They could choose. Most would not, I can't say I've ever met an evil baker. Well, not knowingly anway. But a typical kobold, one without honor, could, and would, break whatever terms might be set the moment it suits him to do so. This does not absolve him from the agreement, indeed the act stains him, and in time his entire race, with a poor reputation. The consiquences of lacking honor."
Azog considers bakers, and says, "A few are not particular about baking weevils into bread, but I do not think that is done out of evil, no." He nods vehemently as Mikilos explains, and says finally, "So you agree with me. I did not think that you did, by your words before. It is not that they're not bound to honor agreements, but that you do not expect them to honor agreements." He nods gravely about the consequences, though he says, "Goblins have found enough honor to live among humans, it may be that some wise kobolds like the one you mention will lead a similar trend among their people."
Mikilos nods. "Or perhaps just some of the people, and in time the two groups will become distinct and sperate peoples. Far too early to say, but one can hope."
Azog considers, but says, "It is the same among my people: Adom led some to the path of honor, and those who do not accept his way are not of our people any longer. Or we are not of theirs."
Mikilos ponders. "In that particular case I think is more accurate to say you are no longer of their ways. Intresting how many races have two factions, to some degree. Hrmmm, I wonder if all do, and in some the split is simply better hidden?"
Azog shrugs dismissively, "Either way, we are different peoples. And I think all groups have separate factions among them. There are too many people in the world to think that all of any people are alike. I'm sure among earthworms, there are some that are different than others. I do know that rats in the north have much thicker fur, but a cleaner taste, than the rats down here."
Mikilos nods, and makes a vauge wave. "I know of at least four types of earthworm. But I was meaning a split into two even halves. But I suppose it isn't quite so neat and organized. Meh, trouble with learing of great and spanning patterns in the universe, you try to see them everywhere."
Azog nods gravely at the mention of four types of earthworm. "I am not surprised. Nor am I surprised that you know." He shrugs at the rest, agreeing, "Not so neat, I think, anywhere. And I think that no split in anything is into even halves, unless you are cutting a loaf of bread. And even then you have to be quite precise."
Mikilos nods. "Witnessed a few foes split in battle, but cannot say the halves were equal. I never took the time to measure. Though now that I think on it I suppose thirds better suit the cosmic array. Black on one side, white the other, with grey between. Or wahtever colors seem best suited to describe the divine."
Azog shrugs again, armored shoulders scraping a bit. "I have cut foes before, it is never pretty. As far as good and evil and in-between, I think that is broadly true of everyone."
Mikilos nods. "A broad pattern laid over the world, but not a... 'sharp' one. The lines and edges are blurry."
Azog says, "Sometimes the edges are blurry. But you know when someone has crossed a line."
Mikilos ponders and nods. "Not all lines, but the important ones, yes."
Azog agrees, "The important ones." He finishes his stew, and settles back in his chair. "So what else is new in the city? More in the sewers, and the Explorers keep busy, I suppose? I have been out hunting and living off the land, but I came back to see how things are."
Mikilos nods, and shrugs. "Things change, as they always do. Seems there are more undead in the sewers than there once were, but i don't know the details of that. Rumors persist of pirates in the local waters, but vary on what degree."
Azog rubs his chin, nods slowly about the sewers, then hrms at pirates. "Fighting on ships, I think would be hard. If I fell into the water, it would go badly." He taps the heavy steel plate of his armor. "Is anyone looking for them?"
Mikilos nods. "There have been efforts, but I'm not privy to the results. I'm not sure if this is an organized effort by a singular group, or several independant factions all influenced to do the same sort of thing."
Azog's empty bowl is taken away by the server. He grunts about the results, and says, "I suppose I can go to the Explorers' Guild and see if someone is paying to have pirates attacked. Surely someone who's lost a ship will pay to have it recovered."
Mikilos nods. "Or at least some degree of revenge. I've been kept busy with my studies, and am not so up to date on events as perhaps I might be."
Azog mmmns, "Seems we are both out of touch. Well, we shall see what happens, I suppose."
Mikilos nods, and stretches, peering towards the windows. "Perhaps we'll both find something of intrest. Or not. Either way, I'd best be going."
Azog sits back, himself. "Have a good day. It was interesting to talk to you.
Mikilos nods, and waves, heading towards the exit.