Inside the inn, a warm fire roars. An older man and his teenage daughter are that is needed to run this place. A small group of adventurers are the only customers this night. They talk of past adventures and heroic tales.
Outside is cold and foggy. A full moon gives the fog an eerie feel. A superstitious peasant would likely call this a bad omen. This far on the edge of civilization it could mean anything.
(Once you have a character account, use this thread to meet and talk in character until the game officially starts.)
A young, Elvin woman sits by the warm fire, lost in thoughts of the events that drew her to this inn. A mane of coppery red hair that frames her soft, pale, white, skin of her lovely face, looks like wispy embers in the firelight. Her piercing green eyes that almost shimmer with a light from within, stare deep into the flames, as if she was attempting to portent what's to come...
Ah, a lovely elven lass. Madigan thinks to himself as he riffles and weaves a deck of gaming cards in his hands. He loved the sound of rapid snapping and clanking as he shuffled them, never knowing which card he would draw. He sat alone with a cheap drink of ale wearing dark brown leather armor and a thick long coat, a short sword slung in his belt and a hidden knife in his boot. He wore his long dark hair so that it covered his ears and could freely be blown in the wind if there was one. Picking up his drink and cards he saunters on over to the elven woman sitting by the fire. "Mind if I join you? I was hoping to play a game of cards with someone. Ever heard of 'Go Fish'?"
A dark skinned man in heavily gilt plate armour enters the common room and stands in the doorway a long moment looking around. Seeing the man playing with a deck of gambling cards, he gives a derisive snort, but then his eyes alight on the elven woman and his demeanour instantly changes. If she glances his way he gives a deep bow in greeting, before walking over to the innkeep to make arrangements for the stabling of his mount, a room for the night and a warm meal.
An elven bard sits next to the fire with bare feet up on the hearth. Her chair rocks precariously on its back legs as she throws back the remains of her ale. The music she was playing stops while she holds her mug out. A serving girl runs out quickly with a fresh mug. Tinarawen takes a sip and returns to her song. Her fingers expertly dance across the strings of her instrument as her voice sings a tale of star-crossed lovers. She rocks her chair back and forth in time with the music. Between verses, she quickly snatches up her mug for another gulp without missing a chord.
Alynorae allowed the music and the flames to lull herself into a kind of light trance called Elvin Reverie where she recalled past memories. She was completely aware of her surroundings so she was not startled when the young man asked to join her and then invited her to a game of cards. She turns her head to regard the stranger with luminescent green eyes. After studying him for a few moments she nods and glances at a chair nearby.
After the stranger sits she replies, "I'm afraid I have never played a game of cards. But on extremely rare occasions I have gone fishing.
I'm typically vegan but I do partake in fish in lean times." When she speaks her Elvin accent is very thick and has an almost rhythmic quality.
The temperature in the in drops when the door to the inn opens. Alynorae glances toward the doorway to see the heavily armored, dark skinned man step over the threshold and into the common room. She nods politely when he gives a deep bow and watches the stranger out of the corner of her eye while returning her attention back to the stranger shuffling the paper rectangles.
The last note is still fading as she appears suddenly seated at the table, stacking her coins. "Deal me in, boss. What's the ante? Any wildcards?" She eyeballs each stack of coins to ensure they were all equal.
[OoC: I checked out the Racial Preferences table and apparently all elves treat Valley Elves with Antipathy while Valley Elves treat other elves neutrally. ]
Alynorae looks at the new comer and her friendly smile fades to a neutral expression. The Sylvan elf was a little different in her kin. A bit more worldly. She even covered herself in plates of metal rather than the leather more commonly preferred by her kind. The new comer's features were much like a Grey Elf's which Sylvan Elves held with goodwill but there was something different with her body language that was difficult to place a finger upon.
~Mára sinye. Ni'm Alynorae Eilnathna. Mana brings tye ana sina Inn on sina drearime ló,~ she asks in elvin. Aly hoped to gain some information from the Elvin woman by hearing her accent.
[Good evening. I'm Alynorae Eilnathna. What brings you to this Inn on this dreary night?]
Hearing the elven tongue spoken in a human inn surprises Sumayl, who considers elves as naturally of noble standing.
After his business with the innkeeper is concluded he walks over to the table where the two elven ladies and the half-elven man are seated.
He looks slightly distatsefully at the gambling, he enjoyed games of strategy, but gambling he frowned on. Nevertheless he bows low to the noble ladies.
"Amin essa naa Sumayl, Lotesse amin yanwa lle?"
["My name is Sumayl, may I join you?"]
His speech is heavily accented, but he speaks slowly and deliberately, so that he is understood. He is fluent in elvish, but obviously it is a learned language, taught to him by scholars rather than learned naturally in conversation.
Alynorae nods yes to the cavalier while adding in common, "Of course. Have a seat anywhere you feel comfortable." Once he does so she says, "You speak very well -- though heavily accented -- for a human. Where did you learn to speak Elvin?"