Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » The Wit Inn (Closed)

A field settled somewhere in between dimensions, the skies overhead crackled with possibilities, growled with options. The ground beneath her feet just waited to be moulded, changed.
"So this is the place..." The warlock remarked, seeing naught but sheer field, sparse trees, tall grass. She heaved a sigh and gave the task a slow nod. "No one said it would be easy."

With little instruction other than opening an inn that could be accessed by any and all, Nermine raised her arms ahead of herself and focused. As her indigo eyes shone with the power she invoked to undertake the task, the ground suddenly trembled. Shadows gathered and moulded together before rising to become walls, supports, doors and windows. The building's walls took the appearance of dark wood and dark grey stone. The windows looked tinted blue and purple while the roof tiles were a deep purple themselves. The conjuration grew to become a two-story structure the size a typical inn or tavern would be. Similarly, as the upwards motion of her paws finished with forming the chimney and the fine details of the structure, an abrupt gesture downwards shaped the structure's basement with another trembling of the earth. She drew a breath and her eyes resumed their usual colour.
"Jandiel can't complain about dark magic." She murmured to herself as she approached the door elaborately adorned with images of dragons and serpents. The jackal stopped a moment, regarding it a moment or two, then raised a paw towards it and with a few stretching and shrinking gestures of her paw she checked whether the door could grow to admit creatures larger than a grown man. Like, say, a dragon. "It does all he asked it to do. And more. He ought to know I'd use my own resources for it. Had he wanted a tree house, he should've come around and grew it himself." She shrugged, pushing the doors open and entering the structure.

It seemed much larger on the inside, although empty. Shaking her head and sighing, the warlock once again utilized her might to conjure tables, chairs, a bar desk and stools, shelves and casks to hold liquor, actual staircases to lead upstairs the the rooms that would have beds, wardrobes and any other commodity one could imagine within an establishment such as this. As she recalled Jandiel hired a bard for this place, with a flick of her wrist Nermine designated a spot for the woman to perform at, conveniently placed somewhere visible from every table available in the tavern. Glancing around the dark room, she gestured at the tables and the ceiling to conjure chandeliers and candelabras. With a slight grin on her muzzle, she made the flames purple and blue, a personal touch to the whole ordeal. She finished her work by gesturing at the windowsills and various points around the indoors of the inn, causing the shadows there to twist and wrap together before forming varied plants that boasted purple and blue hues. With a happy sigh, the warlock turned and headed outside. She looked around empty field and, with a movement of her paw turned a swathe of dirt into a cobblestone path running by the inn. Another gesture erected a well and a stable awaiting for mounts. She paused there, tapping her lower lip ponderously for a moment, then shrugging.
"I guess Jandiel will just need to look around for a stable boy now as well."

Looking around at her handiwork once more, Nermine finishes it with adding a sign board above the door. A lotus flower opening with "The Wit Inn" arched over it in an elaborate font. She grinned. "Fancy." Next, she placed a plaque next to the entrance. On it's dark obsidian surface, in golden letters was the following inscription;

"Should I add that one last detail?" Nermine mused to herself, sighed, then shrugged and beneath what was already on the plaque, added;

With all that said and done, she clapped her paws together as if to dust them off and glanced afar, as if pondering. "Now to see whoever comes to visit this place." She glanced at the door of the inn and frowned. "I should probably stay a while and make sure the spell is stable. Anyone with a bit of imagination could alter it..." She turned and glanced meaningfully towards you. "Does not mean you should abuse it, whoever you are."
With a sigh, she entered the inn once more, picking out a table and a chair from those available and moved to seat herself down comfortably. There, she frowned again, staring towards one of the plants and wondering whether there was something she has forgotten or whether she managed to get it mostly in place.
"Ah, right. Food and drink itself. Of course."
Standing up with a groan, Nermine went to the basement. The somewhat empty stone basement with nothing within it. Yet. With a smirk and a clap of her hands, in the far end of the basement appeared the CHoMP. A mimic of peculiar capabilities. Granted, he was a hungry and mischievous beast, but this particular one had the marvellous enchantment of creating any kind of food and drink one desired of it. "I'll leave it to the barkeep to figure out how to keep it in high spirits. I'm sure he'll have a good time." She smiled to herself and walked back out of the basement and to her perch within the main room of the inn, leaving the grumbling Chest of Magical Provisions behind.

Having traveled for miles through a relentless blizzard, May glanced up to see a strange purple glow emanating from what looked like windows in the distance. It was an unnatural and magical glow... one she was not sure about travelling towards. Still, windows meant a building and a building meant warmth.
Pulling her fur cloak closer about herself, the strong wind blew her hood off, sweeping her light blonde braided hair about her face. Pulling her hood back up she struggled through the snow towards the building. The closer she got, the less snow there seemed to be, until - to her surprise- she stepped onto a completely snow-free cobblestone pathway.
"What magic is this?!" May exclaimed, glancing around and finding the snow completely gone. Also, she felt warmer. Lowering her hood, she brushed her hair out of her face. Behind her, there was a howling blizzard, she could see it with her own eyes. Yet here, there was no wind, no cold, no snow.
Frowning, she headed towards the purple building, glancing at the sign at the entrance. "An inn... thank the Gods. I could do with a drink. Or twelve." Walking up to the door she pushed it open and walked in.

The warlock peered up from her notes and research stacked on one of the far away tables towards the first guest to visit the Wit Inn. I actually did not expect anybody to have the wits to come by - she thought to herself before raising a paw to greet the traveller and grinned.
Seeing the barkeep and bard failed to arrive yet, she was the only one there to greed the weary woman. Sighing and not really feeling up to being a gracious host, she stood up reluctantly and approached the woman. Nermine's purple and black robes flowed about her and she inclined her head in greeting.
"Welcome, welcome." The next part came through with more difficulty. "How can I be of service."
It was scarcely a question. The warlock clearly did not feel up to being the host here. Where was the barkeep and the bard at!?

May smiled at her, though she found the woman to be slightly intimidating. Lowering her battleaxe to the floor, in an attempt to not look threatening, she opened her cloak to let some warm air into her clothing. "Is this an inn? It seems a little empty... " She glanced around the room, finding no one else there at all! "I had hoped to have a drink. Are you the innkeeper?"

Nermine peered around at the woman's observation and let out a sigh. Looking up at a point in the ceiling she eventually turned and spoke to the guest. "I shouldn't blame folk for now finding this place yet." She smiled. "It's only been about a couple hours since this place even exists." The warlock sighed and looked past the woman towards the door, looking impatient. "Does not change the fact the staff is late. I do not plan to be the host here." She looked at the woman again. "Let alone an innkeeper."
Walking a few paces towards the empty bar, she placed her paws on it's wooden surface and looked towards the staircase leading towards the basement. Then, turning around and looking towards the visitor, she gestured towards the tables and said regardless. "Make yourself comfortable. I could at least try and make you feel welcome while the service Jandiel hired takes it's time to show up."

May sighed in relief, bowing her head in appreciation. "Thank you, I really just needed somewhere out of the cold. I was just travelling through a blizzard... when I suddenly happened upon this haven." She walked towards one of the tables nearby, placing her battleaxe down. Removing her cloak next, she hung it on the back of a chair before pulling her pack off of her back and setting it down as well. She sighed with delight when she sat down. "This place is full of magic, it keeps the cold weather out. It glows purple. It seems to have popped up out of nowhere."

"It isn't that easily reachable. If you happen to think strongly of a safe haven to stop by for a bit of rest, you might just happen about this place." Nermine explained while pouring the woman a brew that she believed would warm and hearten her up after having just arrived from such a cold setting. Walking to her table with the mug of mead, she placed it down and sat down across from her. "So aside from you arriving from a very cold and nasty place. What's your name?" Nermine tried a smile. "And I will take that last remark of yours as a compliment." The warlock winked.
Glancing to the side, noticing an empty spot near the middle of the room and realizing the inn did not really have a hearth or anything the chimney up top was connected to, she focused her gaze and gestured towards the specific spot with her paw. Moments later, a ring of black cobblestone appeared, followed by columns that supported a dome above a bed of coals. Something in the design, or perhaps the magic used in this place, funnelled all the smoke up and out of the building, leaving only warmth to spread in the inn as well as adding the more welcoming orange glow. Frowning and shaking her head slightly, a dismissive gesture from the warlock sprinkled pillows around the elaborate fire-pit before she leaned back in her chair a bit, again looking towards the entrance impatiently.

May watched the warlocks actions with wide eyes. "Where I come from, many believe magic to be evil and that it brings bad luck." She glanced at the brew before sipping at it, feeling warmth spread through her she smiled and relaxed. "It's okay though, right now I am glad for your magic. My name is Majken, though I prefer to go by May." She extended a hand towards Nermine in greeting. "Yourself?"

Nermine turned her attention to May when she introduced herself and nodded in response. She did not offer a handshake though. "After the amount of arcane magic that went through these paws, I would not risk it." The warlock winked, then looked at her paws ponderously. "Particularly when I forgot my gloves." Sighing, she looked up at May after pushing a stray strand of hair from her face. "Nermine. I would say your people do well to believe in what they do. As much as magic can create and benefit, as much or more it can destroy and hinder."
Just then, a knock on the door sounded...
"Could it be my saviours?" She wondered aloud hopefully as she turned to look towards the door.

"This ain't the place. T'wasn't supposed to be all purple'y and magicky like this."
"Of course it's the place. How else would we get here?"
"Oh I dunno all of those magic stuffs of yours. I'm just a mercenary."
"Pah. And that is why we'll never get along well, my friend."

The doors of the inn opened once more to admit two peculiar characters. One slender and graceful, an Arctic vixen by the looks of it, carrying instruments and a travel pack in tow. The other a massive fellow both in height and breadth that just barely fit into the door.
"Damn constructor! Made the door too small!" Navvie grumbled.
"Out to have taken care not to get so big, perhaps!" Rachel snapped back at him.

May glanced up as more people entered, unable to hide a smile at their playful banter towards each other. She hoped that the barkeeper had arrived, though she liked Nermine's brew she could really do with a mead.
She watched at the large man squeezed in through the door, worried that something was going to break when he did. He was huge and he seemed human. The female was quite pretty though, a white vixen. May was just thinking that her fur looked the colour of snow when she realised that someone had spoken. She focused on the conversation and realised that they were talking to Nermine.

"Showed up at last, I see. Good. Means I can take my leave." The warlock turned to look towards May and nodded slightly. "I realise what I've prepared for you was nowhere close to actual mead, but I am sure the barkeep over there will get you the thing you truly want." She smiled at the woman, then stood and moved towards the door of the inn. "Just so you two know." This was addressed to the freshly arriving staff. "There's rooms upstairs you can use. And with that, fare-thee-well." Nermine grinned, slipping out of the door.

Nermine departs from the Wit Inn.

"Why's it so dim in 'ere!?"
"Want me to light you some more candles?" The vixen offered with a shrug of her shoulders as she moved towards the hearth and sat herself down on one of the pillows. Resting her back against the warm stones, she proceeded to tune her instrument.
"Nah, I'm fine without yer bloody candles. Oy, you there! Can I get ya anythin'?" This was directed more towards May than towards the vixen.
Rachel seemed all too happy to let the other two talk while she tuned her instrument, a guitar, and began strumming on it ponderously.

May blinked in surprise, obviously the warlock could read minds as well.
"Y-yes please," she replied, coming back to the present. "A mead. Also, do you offer guest rooms? A room for the night would be amazing." She dug into her pack, searching for her coinpurse.

"An aye to both." The large man replied, proceeding to go about fulfilling the order. "Now where did that warlock put... ah right! The cellar!" He exclaimed and went downstairs to get the mead.
Meanwhile, the vixen stood and gracefully approached the bar, peeking behind it and nimbly plucking out one of the available keys for herself, and then another one. Walking back to May's table, she placed the key on her table and winked. Number 12. "I'm sorry if that's not your lucky number, hun. But I figured you could at least get a key before that lout figures out where all the supplies are stashed."
"Give 'em up you bloody box o' teeth!" A yell reached their ears from downstairs, following by loud rumbling.
Rachel shook her head. "Or maybe her did already." She sighed and walked over to her pillow again and back to her strumming.

May frowned at the ruckus coming from downstairs and looked up at the vixen. "Do you think we should help him? He sounds like he is having a bit of trouble..."
She placed a gold coin on the table. "I don't suppose you know how much a room will be? Will a gold pay for it?"

"I suppose it will. And I don't think he does need help. It's Navvie after all." The vixen shrugged, coming up to her table and collecting the coin to take it to the desk just as the large man returned from his venture downstairs, carrying a barrel of some liquid on his shoulder. He indeed had only one arm. The other being a fearsome-looking cannon.
The barkeep, also known as Navvie, hammered a nozzle onto the barrel and then operated it in order to pour mead into a fairly large mug. He scowled at the gold coin on the bar, then turned back to his task.
"Glad for ye generosity, lady. That beast downstairs is really hungry fer coin."
"It feeds on money?" Rachel asked, resuming her strumming.
"Aye it does. And damn ravenous it is, too." He finished pouring the mead and settled the mug on the bar desk. Seeing it, Rachel sighed and stood up to do the round as waitress.
"Here you go hun."

"Thank you." May took her mead then smiled. "I think I am going to take it upstairs with me, if that's okay. I am knackered and could do with a nap." She bent to put on her pack, carrying her cloak and battleaxe with one arm and her mead in the other. "Room 12 here I come." She walked upstairs to sleep for a while, trying not to spill any mead on the floor as she went.

May departs to get some rest.

"Y'know what. I deserve a bit o' rest after all this hassle coming 'ere to begin with too!" Navvie snatched a key from the panel behind the bar then picked up a self-standing note to place on top of it that said; Most of the standard choices were present, together with the fresh barrel of mead. Muttering under his nose, Navvy went upstairs a little while after May did. Wanting some sleep as well.

Navvie leaves the bar up for self-service while he reclines for rest.

Rachel sighed and shook her head.
"And in this room so strange,
With no one in eye's range,
Sits the lonely bard,
A strumming little ward."

The halfling stared at the sign in confusion.

"The Wit Inn? Certainly don't sound like The Sorrow Song to me. Maybe the wizards got the name wrong. The names are kinda simmilar. Sorta. Maybe. Lil' bit." He then looked over to the building it was advertising. People were already drinking and laughing.

"Well, time to see if any recognise the greatest theif in the universe!" He then pulled up his belt, combed his spikey hair to the left, drew his swortshort, and marched to the door. Once he reached the doorway, and recieved some strange looks from a few on the way there, he burst open the door and exclaimed, with his sword held in a heroic pose;

"Hello fair people! For it is, as you are all aware, I! Alton Vexilerius! Guild master of the Riverdowne Theives Guild, and all-round adventurer! Hold your appalause."

Everyone inside the inn turned to see a midget shouting at the top of his lungs, and once his bambling nonsense had finished, they returned to their conversations.

Alton sighed, and walked for an empty bar stool directly ahead of him, and slumped down, ordered a strong ale and muttered to himself on how he could of made his entrance better.