Snippet #2776793

located in The Spicy Jackal, a part of The Valleys of War, one of the many universes on RPG.

The Spicy Jackal

One of the finest Taverns in all of Ebozon! Grab a bit to eat, a swig of beer, and pass out in a cosy candle lit room lined with wooden floor boards.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lich Character Portrait: Kerpheres Character Portrait: Gaveth Character Portrait: Bellemere Character Portrait: Hilda Vaulke
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Bellemere couldn’t help but grin at the misconception of “kitchen work”. Perhaps she misjudged and this old veteran look was nothing more than a facade. Although the way this man carried himself, weaponry and all? Didn’t seem like the type to play games with expectations. Honest to a fault and so Bellemere shook her head at the man’s remark, jutting a finger at the bandit job hanging just above the menial task mentioned earlier.

As she was about to mention the job to the rest of the group, making sure to tear the note down after the soldier had read it, a piercing scream filled the tavern; alerting not just the small band of adventurers, but the tavern as a whole. All manner of patrons looked up from their casual drinking, some holding their ears to dampen the noise cutting through the room, others looking up in shock or frustration (likely the latter were too drunk to take much note if it anyway). The flamboyant mage who had earlier given a staredown to several people nearly fell to the ground, clutching with a limp hand in something not unlike desperation for something.

Bellemere looked towards her companion for a moment, although didn’t think Hilda was capable of causing this. She didn’t know the exact extent of the spellsword’s abilities, but surely this was beyond her. Eyes calmly traced a path from the outstretched hand to the masked woman standing beside the giant, the pair hadn’t caught her attention much. There wasn’t much to be said besides the obvious, although she had to make a mental note that the purple mage probably wasn’t the only spellcaster. Judging was a moot point, however, and with an agreeable nod towards the masked woman Bellemere resumed her own order of business.

With a brisk pace she approached Hilda again, handing the piece of paper over with perhaps a little more force than she thought was necessary; thoughts swaying between opting to take the lead, or just leave these people to their own devices. She gave a quick sign, both hands pointing forward with index- and middle finger, waving them up and down in quick succession. She wanted Hilda to make it snappy. Not that she wasn’t keen to work with a larger group, but so far first impressions hadn’t exactly taken to positive results. The northerner she was familiar with, the others she could take or leave. Maybe bring along the soldier and his silent entourage, but the others were noted with increasing boredom.