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Whirlplot: Is He Dead Yet

Page history last edited by rgs 14 years, 8 months ago

Is he really?

 

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--<* Ox-Strength Ale 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. Known for its foul tasting food which only its more potent drink can erase the memory of, the rank smell of spilled ale gone stale, among other unpleasant odors, greets visitors as soon as they open the aging wood door.

    What used to be large windows have been bricked up to prevent them from being broken any more by constant fights and bickering. Instead, bloodstains adorn both the nearby walls and the bricks themselves from thrown patrons being brought up short since they can't go through them any longer.

     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, which is maintained by a large man in his early fifties.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-- Contents --=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

 Myrana          A short young woman with soot on her face             13m  2h

 Ravi-Tan        A sly rogue in black.                                 12s  1h

 Kerian          A white-haired grey elf in a greatcoat.               20m  1h

 Gauvain         A tall brown haired armored man.                      8m   1h

 Rowena          A simply dressed young dwarven woman                  0s   7m

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= Exits -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Out <O>                  

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

"Nice to meet you," Myrana says to Ravi-Tan as she slides down into the chair beside Gauvain. Not wanting to interrupt, she rests her head lightly on his good arm with a soft exhale. "Gau...?" She gives the Inn a dubious look. "Are you sure I can't come with you?"

Gesturing wiht his good hand, Gauvain says evenly. "I might. But I won't lie. It's going to be dangerous. Galenthia was once the staging point for the region's defenses. When it ... When I caused it to fall for the Bludgun forces, they probolly fortified it and are using it for the same." He looks to Myrana and is silent for a moment. "I won't stop you. But I'd feel better if I knew you were safe." He grins lightly, "Besides. I know better then to try and tell you what to do."

Someone runs inside the Jailhouse.

He runs through the Jailhouse.

He appears to be dressed in tatters. He runs through, jumps overthe bar and then into the kitchen. He appears muddy and dirty.

Kerian looks up from his dance and blinks at the man who ran through, not pausing in his music. "How odd o/~" the bard sing-songs, leaping from the chair to the table and hopping down shortly after to go investigate.

Ravi-Tan shrugs off the revelation like it didn't even happen, "Pah, Danger is my -middle- name." As though he had a /last/ name. He smirks as Gau talks to his ladylove, "Aren't paladins supposed to be celebate, anyway? Married to Daeus and all?" He opens his mouth as to say something when some guy runs through. Ravi-Tan slowly closes it again, blinking.

Gauvain blinks as the man runs through the INN and into the Kitchen. He pinches his nose and sighs lightly. "I'm not allowed a night off am I Sun and Stars?" he picks up the sheathed Broadsword and looks toward the Kitchen. He then looks to Ravi-Tan. "I've heard of those Paladins. I think we call them guilable." He looks to Myrana and Gestures. "See my Lady? The city is just full of adventure. City living is exciting!"

"Don't you dare! I don't care what you think you're doing running around like that, but it's going to stop right this instant!" A dwarf's harangued voice snaps through the opening to the tavern, and the tavern doors snap open, and a short, female dwarf stomps through them with the determination of an angry, short-legged rhinoceros. "DON'T YOU DARE!" a finger's leveled at the running man by the woman, a thing with bare feet and muddied and calloused toenails, in a simple dress and wild hair. "I don't know HOW YOU WOKE UP but you're going RIGHT BACK TO THE EARTH, RIGHT NOW, mister and when I find you I'm going to see your bloody BRAINS BASHED IN YOU CROOKED LITTLE RAT!"

Myrana stares at the muddy man as he vaults the counter and dissapears.

"What on earth?" she rises, then turns on the dwarf. A prickle goes down her back and she frowns, swallowing. "I miss the country already," she murmurs in response to Gauvain.

Ravi-Tan lifts his eyebrows sloooowly at the outburst. Swallowing hard as though worried the woman might point and shout at him next, he looks from Gau to the dwarf, "Well, get to it, Lawman." He claps his hands lightly, "Chop chop. World needs saving again."

A door can be heard slamming shut. There's a scraping sound from the kitchen, as if someone was moving something heavy in front of the door.

Gauvain stands and retraps his sword onto his hip and picks up his shield. "We'll be back in the Country again one day My Lady. And we'll have a nice house, and land. And it will be Quiet." He walks to the door and raps on it a few times. "Hi." he states rather plainly to the door. "I'm Gauvain Tarris. I'd like to know what that was about. What with the threatening and mentioning of murder and all." He gestures to the holy symbol and raises an eyebrow. "Paladin of Deaus. Upholding the Law. All that good stuff."

Ravi-Tan leans over to whisper to Myrana, "And probably only a handful of the restless dead to roam the fields at night." He nods solemnly before leaning back over.

Restless dead? Myrana pales considerably (and comically) at this thought.

"There are... there are many? Of them? In the city?" Myrana asks, trying not to sound frightened at that thought and utterly failing.

Kerian raises an eyebrow at this. "...h~uh." He offers politely, listening to the full conversation. "No, I don't think there are a lot of restless dead in the city. I'd say that's probably just him toying with a gullible lady's mind."

The short, dwarven woman spins on calloused feet and glares. Glares at the door, her eyes narrow and angry, oh so angry and she lurches sideways to pull out, holy shit, is that an axe?--it's wielded in the rhino's hand like a miniature juggernaut, and she clomps down the stairs with it and towards where the grubby man had gone.

Maritial dispute?

The ragged woman's face twists, and she stops just short of the group, then stomps forward, apparently--apparently nothing short of the fires of hell might stop her from her goal. She has that look to her, and slap-slap-THUD go the bare and mud-covered feet. "Vardaman priestess," she says curtly to Gauvain. And then raises her voice again, "YOU FLEA-RIDDEN CORPSE!" to the paladin, "He smells like he hasn't had a bath in weeks," and from this, the voice of the ragged woman is almost gentle. "Be careful if you go in there--you never know what you might catch from one of these, but if you have something that would bash his head in, that would be ever-so nice."    

Myrana's mouth falls open.

Ravi-Tan grins at the Bard, "In the city? Why no. But the good officer was talking about moving to the countryside, and exposing this poor woman to the ravenous hordes of the Bludgunners, the dead, infernalists, cultists, demons and beasts the size of airships." He shakes his head, "Frankly, I'm surprised people live outside the city at all." He pauses for a few beats before looking to Myrana, "But I'm sure it's perfectly safe. I mean, I'm sure that goblin nobody just got off a -lucky shot- with that rifle, and Gauvain wouldn't be devoured horribly before your eyes by the corpses of the evil dead..." He thumbs over his shoulder, "Like the one that just barricaded itself in the kitchen."

Gauvain quickly has is broadsword out. and gestures in as non threatening a manner as he can. "WHOA. No need for Axes. I just got my shoulder patched up." He gestures to Myrana. "You know what? I haven't seen my wife in a Month and you're telling me this is going to happen NOW? Oh hell no. Put down the Axe." He looks to the door, "Ad YOU, open the Bloody Flaming Door and let's talk this crap out or so help me I'm gonna kick the CRAP out of this door and drag you out by your ears!"

"You're a very angry man, aren't you?" Kerian observes.

"...keep back! I swear to gods, I'll set this place on fire! Stay back!" A voice calls from beyond the kitchen doors. There's a scream from inside. Someone is very scared in there! It sounds like a woman!

"You keep back too! THat woman is CRAZY! She put me in a box of DEAD BODIES"!

Myrana trembles, stepping back... then draws a steadying breath, and straightens. Without another word, she goes back to reach into the tooled, hard leather bandoleer on the table, rooting around in it hurriedly. After some noisy searching, she pulls out a wrench that's easily as long as her forearm and grips it hard in one hand, then turns round to face the door. "Can't have that," she says, hefting the wrench readily. "Its too ridiculous."

Ravi-Tan *kck*s his cheek at Myrana with a wink as he stands and unshoulders his bow. Nocking an arrow casually without putting any tension on it, he smirks and faces the rhino and the bull, not moving from the actual table just yet.

"Hold on!" Kerian calls to everyone, holding up his hands, "This is insane! Are you just going to shoot her?"

The dwarven priestess frowns at the door and this shouting, frowns as if irritated--very irritated, and from there her short, plump hands go on her round, plump hips, the axe sticking out to the side like as how a fancier woman would hold a chahuahua, "And that's where you belong!" she snaps, "Now, you calm down in there and you are going IN THAT BOX, sir, and I'm going to nail it shut! ...He's dead," she says, firmly then to Gauvain, this mad woman who'd just busted in from the street. "I found him on one of our patrols. Now, would you stand back? This is going to be rather messy, and I'd rather you not get splinters. They're just painful, and that young lady over there looks as though she'd wrap you in swaddling." She reaches down to smooth ragged skirts, and steps back, and pulls a number of small objects from her belt pouch.

Ravi-Tan grins at Kerian, "Hey, threats of death, threats of fire...do you expect me to just sit around? I like this place."

"He didn't look dead," Myrana says, her soft voice sounding rather, well, intimidated, but -just- ballsy enough to say -something-. "Just dirty." She looks at the Dwarf uncertainly.

"Oh for the Love of..." Gauvain says with a sigh. "She won't put you in a box. Becuase I won't let HER. Now step out from behind the door. Pretty Please. I want to return to my Wiiiiii - WHAT?!" he says to the Dwarf. "Dead? As in bereft of breath and beating heart /Dead/?" He looks to the door and tries to ponder. "He looked kinda alive to me.... Who did you say you were a priestedd of?"

"I'm not dead!" That's the voice from the other side of the door! "I'm NOT! See? She's gonna KILL me!" He sounds terrified.

Myrana steps forward some to stand a little to the side of the door, holding her wrench in one hand, and her skirts up just a bit for mobility's sake with the other. Like a housewife ready to brain someone with a frying pan.

The woman glares at Gauvain, and changes direction of the fishing. A dark, gray symbol's produced, and she all but flings it at the paladin's--head. "Oooh! Look at that if you've a lick of sense left in you. Triangles? Holy symbols? Are you a paladin or aren't you?" she snaps, eyes flashing, and smoothes her skirts again before turning towards the door. "Sir, you are DEAD. And I would take it very kindly if you would stop frightening that woman in there and just possibly, possibly giving her a disease. I can count nearly three and twenty from the top of my head, and Blessed knows you're liable to have every one of them!"

"He sounds frightened," Myrana says more loudly, starting to bristle. "Terrified. I won't lie, mistress, but you scare me too, carrying that axe. Does a... a walking corpse cry about bodies?"

Ravi-Tan whispers to Myrana, leaning in, "You tell her! Don't let that dwarf hurt this poor innocent man!" He leans up and smirks, giving the dwarf woman a friendly (if sly) smile despite his words of instigation to Myrana.

Gauvain curses lightly and spins toward the door. "You don't need to be a bitch about it." He then plants his foot in the door in an attempt to kick it down. "I think I'm dman near done with this." He looks to the Dwarf. "Swaddling clothes? Really?"

"A walking corpse doesn't know what it's about," the dwarven woman snaps, hands on her hips as she half-turns to look at Myara, and after a longer moment, the look softens again. "Now, I know I look sort of frightening, but I assure you, it's for everyone's benefit. That--creature!" a short, thick finger's jabbed at the doorway, "up and ran when we were putting him in the cart. He's dead, honey. He's diseased, and right now, he is off his rocker and possibly infecting that poor woman in there and isn't even aware of it." She sniffs a little and turns back around and scowls at the door again. And to Gauvain, "I'm a little worked up right now." Oh, really?

Once the door is moved just a little, Gauvain peers in. "Come on out Sir. We'll handle this politely. She won't take you unless I know she's telling the truth." He gestures as he rears back is prepared to go at the door again. "Please. Before I have to break this door."

The man is still in there, trying to force the rest of his rags around himself and pulling back. "Do you promise? You can't let her hurt me. She's *nuts*," he points a finger at the dwarf. A finger covered in dirt and soot.

Ravi-Tan calls out, "Hey mate, we won't let the crazy priestess take you. For a nominal fee, I might even be able to negotiate in your defense! My services come highly recommended! Especially seeing as how you're about to die if you decline sponsorship!" He flashes a winning smile, if the guy can see it.

"Let me past, Gau," Myrana murmurs to her husband, then steps up to the door. "Master, you should let me touch your wrist," she says in a gentle voice. "Just your wrist." She holds out her hand invitingly. A soft, short woman like her, hardly more than five feet tall and half-elven, she doesn't exactly cut an imposing figure. "Pull the things back enough, and I'll come in and feel for your pulse. We'll get you a bath, and some clothes."

Gauvain gives Ravi-Tan a dark look before looking back inside. "Look. I'll check and see if you're dead. If you arn't, as you claim, then I'll keep you safe." he doesn't state what he'll do if he IS dead. "Please good Master. I really jsut want to spend some time wiht my Wife. I haven't seen her in a month, and the sooner we settle this, the better."

Gauvain gets out of teh way.

Ravi-Tan nods, "Aye, we all want to spend time with Gau's wife, and this axe-priestess is getting in the way of things!"

Ravi-Tan idly takes a few extra steps from Gau, just in case.

"You should think about things before you do something like coming back from the dead," Rowena snaps from outside the door. The axe sits askew on her plump hips, and the ragged dress is tinged with dirt and gray, though this close, the triangles can be seen, faint, sewn-in things that line the edges in a simple, beyond-simple pattern and hang just modest inches above the dwarf's bare feet. "It's hardly a /polite/ thing to do," glare at poor Gauvain, poor poor Gauvain before stepping back and looking worriedly at Myrana. Like she expects ghosts to snatch her away at any minute. "...you keep a watch on your wife."

"I wasn't dead!" The man wails, but Myrana does seem to be particularly non threatening and he, slowly, unbars things out and shambles outside. He's definitely a wreck. He's covered in dirt and mud and at least a little of the brownish stains of dried blood. "You have to believe me! I'm *not* dead!'

Myrana can't help but be moved by the man's plight. She gives him an encouraging look and takes his dirty wrist gently in her hand. "Well, I hope you're not dead," she says with a wry smile. "Or I will feel very, very silly." Pressing her thumb in, she checks for a pulse, looking down at his hand as she does so and trusting Gauvain to watch for violent motion.

He seems quite frightened and flinches when Myarana touches his wrist.

The young woman is very quiet for a moment, her downcast eyes thoughtful.

Ravi-Tan waits with anxious eyes.

Myrana licks her lips. "What is your name?" she asks, looking up at the man. "<His pulse is very slow>" she adds quietly in Celestial. "<But it is there. Maybe he was drugged. A paralasys draught. Sometimes, people are buried alive this way.>"

Ravi-Tan gahs, "The suspense is terrible! Is he alive or not?!"

Taking a breath, Gauvain looks to the Dwarf and states plainly "My Wife says the man has a pulse. It's faint, but present. I think somebody made a mistake."

Ravi-Tan throws up his hands and cries, "Hallelujah! Praise be to Daeus, it's a miracle ressurection!" He shoulders his bow and tucks away his arrow, sliiiiding over to the Axe Priestess, "Dame Holywoman, let us dance for joy!" He whirls about in a cyclone of black cloak and bows, offering a hand as though to sweep Rowena into a festive dance.

"Do you see?!" He says, giving Rowena panicy look. "I was just SCARED. Wouldn't you be if you woke up surrounded by *dead people?!*"

"..." Kerian stares at Ravi-Tan. "...my, your blasphemy is...shocking." He slides his violin behind his head. "...truly, truly shocking."

"A pulse?" the voice rises in pitch, and the axe goes on the hip again, and drops into the belt. The priestess frowns at Gauvain, expressing doubt, and then looks to the corpse, thoughtfully tugging at one of her braids, and using the other to push Ravi-Tan out of the way. "Let me take a look at him," she says firmly, and then turns words into action and bustles forward. The axe away, she grabs his wrist.

Ravi-Tan stumbles as he's pushed and rises with a grin. Thumbing his chest, he looks to Kerian, "Blasphemy is my *other* middle name." He leans his head to the side in mid-sentence, flashing his Best Smile.

Rowena all but rips her hand away, rips it, and then glares at the corpse-man, glares at him. And then--short though she may be, the dwarven woman gives a hop! and snatches his ear, "This had better not fall off," she says, voice as severe as some old matron's, and begins a stumping, waddle-walk towards one of the chairs in her ratted dress and bare feet. "Now, then, we're going to have a long talk about your health. And we're going to talk about how you take care of yourself, and if this EAR FALLS OFF," and here, the voice rises, shrill, proving she is NOT calm! "I am going to see to it that you're put into a coffin, if you haven't already put yourself in one! Do you hear me??" Did you hear me about the curfew, young fellow?

Myrana bristles, drawing herself up to her full, unimpressive hieght as the poor man's ear is thusly tugged on. "If it comes off because you -yank- on it so--!" she starts to say, pale cheeks flushing in anger--

Gauvain Calmly puts a hand over Myrana's mouth to quiet her. "Now's not hte time my Sun and Stars." he states evenly. And then leans agains the wall, his hand still firmly clapped to his Wife's mouth. "Let's just call this a victory and move on huh? Like... I still need a bath." He grinst o ehr and then winks. With the barbed wire tattoo's on his face it almost looks like a threat.

"I was on my way home and then I just... I don't remember muc- OW!" He's yanked around by Rowena. "I'd just left dinner with Maxwell and.. why am I in these rags, anyways?!" He sounds pretty annoyed about all of this. And in pain. "I'm not dead!"

Ravi-Tan flips the bartender a coin for the drink he bought Gauvain earlier like throwing a dagger, "Keep the change, mate." He then straightens up with a serious expression, as though he himself were a paladin, "My duty here...is done." And with that he strides very seriously towards the exit.

Perhaps fortunately, the rest of Myrana's rant is quite neatly pruned. She gives a muffled complaint and shoots Gauvain a dirty look, and mumbles something completely unintelligible under the paladin's hand, simmering down.

"Well, perhaps you might volunteer to make him some better meals," Rowena says ham-fists on ham-hips again as she frowns at the corpse-man. "His heart's out of place and he looks like he needs someone to look after him, he's done so much to himself. I'm not sure who this Maxwell is, but he was probably a thiefish lout of some kind, for letting his friend get this way," sniff. "Or...well, put him this way, I suppose."

Myrana reaches up and gingerly pulls Gauvain's hand off of her mouth, clearing her throat delicately. "Right. Bath." That said, she twines her fingers in his and pulls him toward the stairs. As she goes, she tosses her boss the Inn owner a coin for the frightened man's bath and new clothes.

Gauvain shrugs idly, and is dragged away. Witha sigh he smiles and shrugs his injured shoulder. "A knight's duty is never done... I hope you don't need any help with anything..." He bows his head to Rowana, "Nice to meet you Priestess. Have a better evening."

"..okay," says the man, holding his hands up, "okay okay. Since I know *you* aren't trying to kill me again *now*.." He clears his throat. "..uhm.. I think I need to rest." And then he faints.

He's not dead, though!

Kerian relaxes a bit, a smile crossing his face at the priestess. "That was rather nice of you. Not to kill him, I mean."

Sniff. The Vardaman's cheeks are red, too red, and her hands go more slowly to the rounded dwarf-hips. And doesn't...well. Say too much for a heartbeat or two. "I think his friend poisoned him," she says, firmly, meeting Kerian's eyes. "And I think it would be /very nice/ if that friend of his got a talking-to. You tell that paladin friend of yours, if he wants to go knock down that little bastard's door, he should give me a call. We'll go knocking down doors," sniff, and she brushes her braid out of the way, and starts to tuck away her things.

Kerian's lips part in a bit of a grin. "He's not exactly my friend, but then, I suppose everyone is a paladin's friend. I'll leave the message for him." Kerian sits down and smiles at the woman. "I'm Kerian, by the by. Nice to meet you." The elf holds out his hand, his huge greatcoat looking almost comedic on his thin frame.

"He doesn't remember wearing those, and I'll tell you something," Rowena wags her finger at poor Kerian as she tucks things away that she'd gotten out. "Our patrols for the dead are pretty regular. You could draw lines across the city, if you wanted to. Set your clock by it." She slides the last away, then sniffs, wiping at her nose with one hand and jutting the other hand forward. "Rowena, Patience's Servant, and it's good to see someone here has some sense."

"I have sense? Hmm, I should work on that," the elf teases, squeezing her hand tight in a handshake. "Bards aren't supposed to have common sense, we're supposed to play music and do silly, stupid things."

The guy is totally unconscious. He's just DONE.

(But not dead!)

Rowena frowns at him briefly, and then presses her palms together when she pulls them back. "Well, someone needs to keep track of history. But maybe you could ask around a bit, find out who that Maxwell was. I think maybe he'd like his clothes back," she glances at the poor man, and, worrying her lip again, kneels quickly to drop a set of fingers at his neck.

(Is he dead yet?)

 

Comments (1)

rgs said

at 3:17 am on Aug 3, 2009

Editing mode seems to be broken just right now, so I really do apologize for the sloppy log. I'll try to go back and fix it later. :)

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